Passion Play: Lush, #2

By Sasha White

Mia 
Why does crap always happen to me? 
I know better than to trust someone who is 'family' to do right by me. But that's okay. They can look down on me all they want. I'm smart, determined, and very focussed on building my business....even the sexy dude with the magic lips that I fell on top of in the park isn't going to distract me. 

Dominick
My new boss is an opportunist asshole and life as the ultimate bachelor isn't so fun anymore. It's time to shake things up.

Quitting my job is a good start, but when a hot redhead runs over me in the park, kisses me blind, then sashays away with hips swinging I'm hooked.

Mia 
Wouldn't you know it? When I'm blowing off some steam on the dance-floor, the sexy guy from the park is suddenly there again. It's a sign from the universe, right? Life is meant to be fun, and all work no play makes Mia a very dull girl. 

Only he soon wants more than a little fun, and what began as a sensual battle of wills turns into more than passion play. How can I trust him not to hurt me, when I can't even trust my family?
 

"Sasha White's stories are molten lava all wrapped up in spun silk."- NYT Bestselling author Cathryn Fox

"Ms. White writes sexy stories that are both exciting and entertaining; following couples from sensual play to their happily-ever-afters." -Jen Twimom from That's What I'm Taking About

NOTE: This is a Second Edition of a previously published novella. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: White Hot Books
• Release date: Mar 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781928115243

Sasha White

Sassy women and sexy men are what Canadian author Sasha White's stories are all about. Gifted with a salacious imagination, and a voice that is called “distinctive and delicious” by The Romance Studio, Sasha has more than a dozen erotic stories published in such sub-genres as contemporary, paranormal, suspense, and science fiction. A full-time writer and part-time bartender, she lives in Northern Alberta, and loves to hear from readers. She can be found on her websites’s blog most afternoons.

Book preview

Chapter One

Mia

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Iwas in hell.

Okay, it wasn't literally hell- it was a coffee shop on Jasper Avenue in downtown Edmonton, but it felt like Hell. And the icy blond across from me was the devil.

What do you mean you're done? I rubbed the silver snake ring on my middle left finger with my thumb. The smooth cool metal was solid and comforting.

Your stuff isn't moving, Mia, and as much as I like you, this is my business. I have to make smart decisions.

"You like me? Sharon, you're my cousin! You came to me with the idea of marketing and selling my jewelry. I quit my job to build an inventory because you told me we could do this. You told me you could sell ice to an Eskimo. That's what you said. Ice to an Eskimo."

I'm sorry, Mia. I've tried, but no one is interested in your stuff. It’s just too… unusual.

I folded my arms across my chest to stop from grabbing the bitch and shaking her. You said that's why it would sell. Because it's unique!

The ice queen raised a slim penciled in eyebrow and shrugged delicately. I'm sorry, but I've tapped all my sources and no one is interested.

So you were wrong. Pressure built inside my head. I wasn’t pissed so much about her not being able to sell my stuff, as much as at the way she acted. Like none of it was her idea, her fault. Nothing was ever her fault.

Her thin lips pursed tight. The timing is wrong.

I stared at her and counted to ten in my head, breathing long deep breaths. It didn’t help.

Leaning forward, I spoke softly, my words all the more forceful in their quietness. You selfish little bitch. You can't even admit you were wrong. It's pathetic.

I clenched my jaw, holding the rest back. Sharon wasn’t worth it. She was just a brittle bottle blonde that didn’t care about anyone but herself. I should really feel sorry for her. With a shake of my head I turned and stalked out of the shop.

So much for family.

Not that I’d ever truly felt a part of the Jones clan.

The Jones family. Can you get any duller than that? Sadly, my extended family lived up to the name, or should I say down to it?

Either way, they were boring. I was not. With made me the black sheep among them.

Even before I got my first piercing, my aunt and uncle didn’t have a clue how to handle me. My parents had always encouraged me to be my own person. They’d encouraged me to never let other people’s misconceptions keep me from doing anything. So, when I was four and had wanted to shave my hair off to look like Dad, they took me to the barbershop and had it done.

At seven years old, I’d wanted to play baseball in a town where there was no girl’s team and Mom and Dad had fought the town council to let me play on the boy’s team.

Two years later they died in a car accident and I went to live with my aunt and uncle, my mom’s sister and her husband. They were blood, but they never really accepted me as family. I was alone.

None of them had ever been risk-takers; none of them had ever really understood me. According to them, I was too much of a smart-mouth with an attitude. They’d never even tried to see below the surface.

That, of course, had made me want to make the surface just a bit more outrageous. I admit it. But what started out as rebellion helped me find my way to what I loved best: silver crafting unique and edgy jewelry. I’d been content to work as a receptionist at a construction company until Sharon had come up with the brilliant plan of making my hobby into a business.

I should’ve known better than to trust her, cousin or not.

Chapter Two

Dominick

---

Iglared at the pages in my hand so hard, they blurred into a sea of red. I wished for laser eyesight so they’d burn up from the heat. Hell, if I had laser eyesight it wouldn’t be the pages I’d be using it on, but the individual who’d fucked them up.

"What’s wrong, Nick? You forget how to spell misogynistic? Oh, wait! That’s one word you’ll never forget, right?"

I ignored the bitter brunette and she walked away in a huff. Wanda Brooks would never forgive me for not wanting to go past date one with her, let alone being a vocal supporter of the right to stay single.

Not that it really mattered to me, the Society/Arts’ columnist was good-looking, even charming when she wanted to be, but she’d been interested in Nick, the quasi-celebrity, not Dominick, the person. And I was past the point of just wanting to get laid so I had notches on my belt.

Nick at Night is my column The City, an old fashioned weekly free periodical. A column that talks to men about what’s happening in the city, where’s a good place to take a date, and often, what warning signs to watch for in a female determined to get to the altar. Full of sports analogies that are easy to understand, it’s a ‘man about town’ sort of thing that has wide appeal for the men in Edmonton.

It had made me popular with men, not always so popular with women.

Judging by all the red the new editor had inserted into my latest offering, Wanda wasn’t the only one trying to change things. Slapping the pages against my thigh as I walked, I headed for the editor’s office. I tried to calm the anger simmering in my gut.

I