Foster Kavanaugh, former Navy SEAL, knows what it’s like to be the top dog, the man in charge, the one calling the shots. Now that he’s running his own security consulting firm, not much has changed.
Except the curvy blonde he hired as his office manager.
Noelle Davis has been through the damn ringer. Swearing off men after escaping a toxic relationship, she’s grateful for a fresh start—new job included. Of course, her job isn’t tranquil and calm. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Because her boss is the most infuriating man on the planet.
And, not to mention, sexy as hell.
Foster has limits. Rules. No attachments allowed because he doesn’t do love—and Noelle Davis foiled that plan and took a red pen to his list of rules. With her smart mouth and quick witted banter, he found the woman beginning to creep past his defenses.
When circumstances put Noelle in a perilous position, the first person to come to her rescue is none other than Foster Kavanaugh. She gets to see the man in action—not as her aggravating boss, but the man who will stop at nothing to ensure her safety.
The same man who makes her want to reconsider her self-imposed embargo of men.
The man she wants to get to know now that she’s seen another side of him.
The man who makes her want…more.
But is more possible when you're OUT OF LOVE
**Out of Love is a full-length, standalone novel that does NOT need to be read in conjunction with any other book. **
His voice is gravelly, eyes—that never before appeared quite so golden—heavy-lidded. He pulls himself from my grasp. “If you don’t want this, you need to speak up. Now.” Swallowing hard, as though nervous at the prospect of me backing out, his voice deepens. “Otherwise, I plan on fucking you good.” Lowering his face to mine, he whispers, “I plan on my cock being so far deep inside your pussy, making you come so hard you won’t ever want me to slide out.” He pauses, his eyes searching. “But you need to tell me you want this.”
I flush at his words, my tongue darting out to wet my bottom lip before I answer. “I want this.”
One of his hands moves down my body in between my legs, sliding inside of me with ease. “Tell me you want my cock inside your pussy, pushing deep. Tell me you want me to make you come hard.” His gaze is still locked with mine while my chest rises and falls, my nipples puckered against his chest.
“I want your cock deep inside my pussy.” My voice is husky and I reach to drag the hand he still has threaded through my hair across my cheek over my lips. When I slide my lips down over his index finger, tasting myself from earlier, I suck hard, hollowing out my cheeks, making him groan.
With a pop, I slide his index finger from my mouth and lick the tip of his middle finger. “I want you to push deep, to make me come harder than I ever have.” Just when I’m about to take that finger in my mouth, he stops me, dragging his two damp fingers down over my nipple, plucking gently at it.
“Lie back on the bed.” Relinquishing his hold on me, he steps back, reaching for a condom in the nightstand drawer. Scrambling to lie back on the bed, I watch him as he quickly rips the packet open, carefully sliding the condom over his length. Climbing onto the bed, the muscles in his arms strain, bracing his weight above me, his hard body pressing against mine. His cock is prodding me, right where I want him the most, where I’m aching and soaking wet for him.
“I…” I falter with my words, unsure of how to say what I need.
Those eyes of his, the heat subsides in them ever so slightly, concern evident. “What is it?”
Pressing my lips together, I finally decide to blurt it out. “I need you to be gentle because it’s been a while.” Lowering my eyes, I focus on his firm, right pectoral muscle. Which is ridiculous, by the way. No one should have such perfect pectorals. They’re freaking hot.
Wait. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m so far gone I’m gawking and swooning over pectorals?
Kill. Me. Now.
“Noelle.” Startled, my eyes fly up to his. He rarely calls me by my first name. I could probably count on one hand how many times he’s done so. “I’ll be gentle with you.” His lips curve up a fraction, and he dips his head to mine, whispering against my lips, “Until you decide you don’t want me to be gentle anymore.”
I hear a whimper and… Damn it. Another freaking whimper. Because of Foster Kavanaugh. What was the deal with this guy? It was like he had superpowers. Like he was the Vagina Whisperer or something.
RC Boldt is the wife of Mr. Boldt, a retired Navy Chief, mother of Little Miss Boldt, and former teacher of many students. She currently lives on the southeastern coast of North Carolina, enjoys long walks on the beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you're in the mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can't recall the lyrics to a particular 80's song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost anything for a laugh, she's your girl.