Here is a very sexy excerpt from Lara Adrian’s new book, For 100 Nights. Warning: Sexually Explicit
FOR 100 DAYS is the first novel in a passionate new contemporary romance trilogy from New York Times and #1 international bestselling author Lara Adrian.
For 100 Nights: Book #2
Avery Ross is living a dream. After struggling all of her life to make ends meet, a chance meeting with a powerful, darkly handsome man has catapulted her into a dazzling new world of penthouse luxury, elegant parties and a wild, consuming passion with her billionaire lover, Dominic Baine. Nothing is out of his reach in business or in pleasure, yet the only woman he wants is her. Nick sweeps her to sensual heights she has never dared to explore, commanding her body the same way he command her heart. Yet Avery knows the fantasy she’s living cannot last.
With dark secrets and a dangerous enemy haunting her past, Avery must find a way to trust Nick with the truth before it destroys everything they share. But Nick is harboring secrets of his own as well. And when they come to light, Avery will be forced to decide if the love she feels for Nick is strong enough to endure a betrayal she may never be able to forgive.
Excerpt from For A 100 Nights
The warm summer weather is so nice when I leave Vendange, I decide to walk instead of hailing a taxi or riding the subway back to the Upper East Side. Hundreds of other people apparently have the same idea. Rather than fall in line with the corporate types and other Manhattanites who rush past me on Madison Avenue, I take my time, strolling along the broad sidewalk with the crowds of meandering tourists and window shoppers.
Up and down this bustling stretch of asphalt, concrete, and towering steel, exclusive boutiques stand side-by-side with national brands of all kinds, as well as upscale designer stores, and financial institutions. I’m not in the market for anything specific, but as I approach a luxe lingerie shop, I can’t help myself from pausing at the brass-framed windows to admire all of the lacy, satiny things secreted inside.
It isn’t hard to imagine how hot Nick’s gaze would smolder if he saw me in one of those sexy undergarments . . . or how quickly his strong hands would work to peel it off me in his need to get inside me.
My nipples tighten at the thought. A flush of heat races through me, warmth I feel most intensely between my bare thighs, which now tremble a bit beneath my light linen skirt.
Curiosity, and the desire to drive Nick even a fraction as crazy as he makes me, finally gets the better of me. With a smile curving my lips, I open the glass doors and step inside.
Soft classical music and delicate perfume drift on the comfortably cool air of the boutique. I nod in greeting to one of the half-dozen elegantly outfitted saleswomen who are all busy with other customers. Glad for the privacy to browse on my own, I head toward the section in the back of the shop where the prettiest items are on display in mirrored glass alcoves and stacked glass drawers.
I’m immediately drawn to one of the bra and panty sets I saw in the window. Both comprised of delicate champagne lace and see-through mesh, each piece is embroidered with burgundy satin roses and dainty ribbon trim. The effect is sweetly innocent, yet decadently sexy.
“Lovely, isn’t it?”
I turn to find one of the sales attendants approaching. The pretty black woman who smiled at me when I came in. She walks toward me with the fluid grace of a runway model, her stylish, slender figure, high cheekbones, and arresting light green eyes completing the effect.
I nod as she comes to stand beside me at the display. “It’s perfect.”
“Would you like to try them on? I’m Evelyn. I’ll be happy to help you find your sizes and show you to a fitting room.”
I tell her what I wear, then, after retrieving my sizes from within a pair of locked drawers, she brings me into a serene private dressing area that’s practically the size of my old studio apartment in Brooklyn.
Evelyn carefully places the bra and panties on a glass vanity table. Next to it is a taupe velvet upholstered bench seat sitting atop a soft rug woven in a feminine pattern of soothing neutrals. Large mirrors and soft, boudoir lighting ensure every angle is presented in the most complimentary fashion.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Evelyn says.
I sit down on the cushioned bench and skate my fingers over the barely-there translucent lace cups of the bra, shivering at the thought of Nick doing the same while I’m wearing it. He’ll love this, I’m sure. And I’m excited at the idea of watching him unwrap me later tonight and discovering my surprise.
Excited, that is, until I see the price.
Nearly a thousand dollars for the two pieces.
If Evelyn catches my disappointed look, her expression never falters. “You have excellent taste. This set is part of our signature collection. It’s a classic that will look beautiful on you for years to come.” When I only nod in response, she smiles kindly and gestures toward the front of the boutique. “If you don’t feel this one suits you, we have something similar in our everyday collection that you might like too. Just let me know if you’d like to take a look.”
“Thank you.” At that same moment, my phone chimes with an incoming call. Nick’s ringtone. I reach into my purse to retrieve it. “Sorry.”
“Take your time,” Evelyn says. She gestures to a brass hand bell sitting on the vanity. “If you need anything, just ring for me.”
She walks away, closing the dressing room door behind her as I swipe the screen on my phone and answer Nick’s call. “Hi.”
“I’ve been thinking about you all morning.”
Just the sound of his deep, raspy voice makes my pulse kick into a faster tempo. I glance at the decadent lacy underthings in front of me and smile wistfully. “I’m thinking about you too.”
He makes a low, approving noise in the back of his throat. “Tell me more. Are you touching yourself while you’re thinking of me?”
I laugh softly, a flush warming my cheeks. “Not at the moment. I don’t think it would be appropriate.”
“You know how I feel about being appropriate,” he murmurs, and I can picture the wry twist of his mouth as he speaks. “Where are you?”
“On my way back from Vendange. I popped in on Tasha for a little while.”
“I hear music in the background.”
“I’m in a boutique on Madison.”
“Nice,” he says after a brief pause. “Find anything you like?”
I try to ignore the fact that he seems so readily familiar with the store. I know he’s had a sex life before me, but the idea of him buying any of these things for another woman puts a pang of jealousy in my breast.
“You said you’re shopping for lingerie and thinking of me. Christ, I’m already hard just picturing that.” His voice lowers to that silken tone that always leaves me weak in the knees. “Indulge me before I have to head into another damn meeting. What sexy little things are you looking at? Better yet, try something on for me and let me see you in it. We can switch to video chat and see where things go.”
Now the heat that had flushed my face travels down my neck and straight to my core. “I can’t do that,” I whisper, squirming a bit on the velvet bench seat. “Someone might see.”
“The dressing rooms are completely private,” he says with more certainty than I care to acknowledge. “Get into one, Avery.”
“I already am.”
“Then we’re halfway there.” He chuckles, but there’s more heat than humor in his voice. “Are you already undressed too?”
“No. I brought in a bra and panties to try on, but I’ve changed my mind about them. I was going to put them back before you called.”
I shrug, and even though he can’t see me, he seems to home in on my discomfiture.
“Put them on for me. I’ll call you back on video in two minutes.”
He ends the call on that demand, and I exhale a sigh as I glance at the beautiful lingerie I have no business pretending I can afford. But I know Nick was serious that he expects me to show him what I selected, and there is a part of me that’s hungry for his reaction. Hungry to see his desire for me, especially when he’s busy with work, yet making time to play naughty games with me.
Stepping out of my sandals, I take off my silk tank top and linen skirt, then slip out of my pastel peach department store bra. The first wisp of expensive champagne lace and burgundy satin against my bare breasts feels like a caress. I fasten the front closure and adjust the delicate ribbon straps, then scoop my breasts so they’re sitting high and plump in the pretty balconette cups.
Because I won’t be buying the lingerie, I leave the three-hundred-dollar panties on the vanity table and walk over to the mirrors to see how I look before Nick calls. I thought my lace-edged peach thong had been cute enough when I left the penthouse, but seeing it next to the stunning bra makes it look as mundane as a pair of cotton briefs. On a frustrated huff, I reach down to take it off, just as my phone chimes with Nick’s incoming call.
As promised, he’s calling from a video app. His handsome face fills the screen, making my breath catch even though I’ve had the privilege of seeing those dark-lashed cerulean eyes and brutally sensual features practically every day and night for the past four months.
“That wasn’t two minutes.”
He smirks. “I didn’t have the patience to wait that long.”
He’s not at his desk, but seated on the pale gray leather sofa in the conversation area of his large office. Behind him, a broad wall of gleaming silver granite soars easily fifteen feet from the floor to the ceiling. The wall serves as a backdrop for a single work of art—a Jackson Pollock original painted in black enamel. The tangle of chaotic lines and bold splashes are a stark contrast to the steady, in-control titan of business seated in front of the masterwork.
Settled back against the clean lines of the sofa, Nick grips his phone in one hand as he loosens his tie with the other. His mouth quirks at one corner as he holds my gaze from inside his corporate headquarters across town. “Let me see you, baby.”
I slowly extend my arm, giving him a view of the gorgeous bra. His low exhalation and thickly uttered curse tells me he approves.
“More,” he commands over the lowered volume of the speaker. “Let me see all of you.”
“I’m not wearing the panties.”
I shake my head. “I’d have to try them on over my own underwear unless I intend to buy them.”
Nick doesn’t seem to care about my explanation. His eyes are blazing hot on me. He leans forward as if he wants to crawl through the phone. “Let me see your pussy, baby.”
Pressing my lips together, I angle the camera so he can see all of me.
“Holy fuck.” There is a fevered edge to his voice, a raw current of need that ignites the same in me. “You’re so damn beautiful. You get me hot just thinking about you. I’m hard as fucking steel over here.”
My body responds to his carnal praise as if he’s here in the room with me, looking at me . . . caressing me. Wanting me.
“Touch yourself. I want to see you stroke that pretty little clit.”
“Nick,” I whisper, worried that we’ll get interrupted, yet astonished that it doesn’t stop me from obeying him.
With my free hand, I slide my fingers down over the trimmed patch of curls between my legs, then into the wet cleft of my body. I’m drenched already, my sex aching for him. I can’t hold back my moan.
His breath leaves him on a deep groan. “Jesus Christ, what you do to me.”
I angle the phone so I can see him too. His jaw is clenched, his brows lowered over the intensity of his stare. I see him shift on the sofa, the camera’s focus jostling with his movements. I hear the soft metallic jangle of his belt buckle, followed by the quiet rasp of the zipper on his suit pants.
The thought of him taking his cock in hand while I stroke myself several blocks away is almost too much to take. I want him so badly, I can hardly stand it. I bite down on my bottom lip to keep the cry from spilling off my tongue.
Nick hisses a sharp curse. “Fuck this. I’ve got a better idea.”
“What?” My voice is thick, my blood roaring in my ears as I draw my fingers away from my throbbing flesh.
“I’m going to send Patrick to pick you up. I want you in my office. Right now.”
“But your meeting—”
“Can wait,” he says. “I, however, cannot. Look for the car in ten minutes. Bring the bra and panties with you.”
Phew! Cold shower anyone? Don’t miss the bestselling first book in the series, FOR 100 DAYS – available now. Bonus: You can purchase For 100 Days for only $0.99 on Amazon on day 2 of the tour! (02/07/2017)
About the Author
LARA ADRIAN is a New York Times and 1 internationally best-selling author, with nearly 4 million books in print worldwide and translations licensed to more than 20 countries. Her books regularly appear in the top spots of all the major bestseller lists including the New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, Indiebound, Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, etc. Reviewers have called Lara’s books “addictively readable” (Chicago Tribune), “extraordinary” (Fresh Fiction), and “one of the best on the market” (Romantic Times).
Writing as Tina St. John, her historical romances have won numerous awards including the National Readers Choice; Romantic Times Magazine Reviewer’s Choice; Booksellers Best and many others. She was twice named a finalist in Romance Writers of America’s RITA Awards for Best Historical Romance (White Lion’s Lady) and Best Paranormal Romance (Heart of the Hunter). More recently, the German translations of Heart of a Hunter debuted on Der Spiegel bestseller list.
With her ancestry stretching back to the Mayflower and the court of King Henry VIII, the author lives with her husband in New England.
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