Today we have the Blog Tour for Field-Tripped by Nicole Archer. Check it out and buy your copy today!
I was done with games. But playing with her is so much fun.Ten years ago, I was all set to compete in the winter Olympics. Then I lost everything—my career, my best friend, and my girlfriend.
After that, I stopped playing games for good. I swore never to go back to Colorado. Too many bad memories. Plus, she’s still there.
Now I live a simple life as a creative director at Shimura Advertising in New York. All is good, until my boss cons me and my coworkers into spending two weeks in Colorado at Proton Sports’ sleep-away camp for adults, pitching their business. Turns out Proton’s idea of a pitch is making the agencies battle each other in a bunch of ridiculous winter games.
Guess who owns the rival company? Her. And she’s out to get me. I might just let her win.
*Field-Tripped is Book 3 in the in the Ad Agency Series and can be read as a standalone.
I stalk my prey during dinner. I watch her smell each bite of food before she eats it. I watch her twirl a lock of hair around her finger. I watch her sneak glances at me and touch her neck.
The flush in her cheeks is feverish, and wanton lust glistens in her gaze.
A flirty laugh floats out. It’s like love birds singing.
Our brows lift in unison. Our lips part at the same time. Our chairs scrape the wood floor in concert.
We take our plates to the kitchen. Her dish clatters in the sink. Mine crashes on top of it.
I stand behind her, my breath blowing the silken threads of her hair. I scoop her ponytail out of the way and kiss the back of her shoulder.
Her neck stretches like a swan.
Then I grab her and yank her into the pantry, barring the door with a mop.
It’s dark, and all I hear is panting. I feel around and pull the light cord.
“It’s too bright,” she says.
“The better for me to see you, my dear. Mwahahaha.”
She swooshes her mouth to the side.
For a moment, we stand there, not moving.
She jams her hands on her hips. “Well?”
“You going to fuck me, or what?”
And we crash together, tearing at each other’s zippers, ripping our shirts over our heads, gnashing our teeth together.