"There's a fine line between reality and fantasy and all it takes is the right amount of desire to cross that line." ~ Coco, owner of the Silk Stocking Inn
An erotic confection from bestselling authors Tess Oliver & Anna Hart.
Jessi has it all, success, money and a corner office with a view. The only thing she doesn't have is the right man. But when a wrong turn lands her at the welcome mat of the Silk Stocking Inn, and in the arms of hot handyman, Grayson, Jessi's well-planned life is turned upside down . . . both in and out of bed.
Jessi is about to get a tasty sample of love, erotic fantasies and red velvet cupcakes.
Red Velvet is a standalone book and the first installation of the sexy Silk Stocking Inn series.
I stepped into the water. Teeny, opalescent bubbles floated up as my body sank down into the lavender scented water. I put the blindfold over my head and pulled it down over my eyes. My elbow hit the bar of soap resting on the edge of the tub. It thudded on the floor. I was too cozy in my bubble quilt to reach for it.
The tub was designed perfectly for reclining. I relaxed back with a long sigh.
A rush of cool air ushered inside the bathroom and footsteps plodded over the tile floor. Coco returning with the towels, I decided.
“Coco, I think I just invented a new type of sigh. It’s one that goes perfectly with the act of melting one’s body into a splendid tub of warm water.” I repeated the sound, and it swished around the room like a lost whisper. “Thank you so much for this. If you don’t see me in the morning, you’ll find me still sitting beneath the bubbles. You can just leave the towels. If it’s not too much trouble, could you retrieve the bar of soap? I knocked it off the edge.”
Footsteps tapped the tile as Coco neared the bath. I was growing drowsy behind the blindfold as I lazily lifted my hand above the bubbles. Surprisingly callused fingertips grazed my palm as the soap landed on my hand.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” The deep voice echoed off the walls and sent me upright.
I yanked off the blindfold and was staring at a faded pair of jeans. The bulge in front assured me of what my terror-filled mind had already surmised. Coco wasn’t the second person in the room.
I peered up at the impossibly tall man. His broad shoulders cast a giant shadow over the tub. His dark blue eyes stared down at me, more specifically at my breasts, which I’d now revealed by sitting straight up out of my bubble cloak.
I sank back down into the water. “I don’t know how you got in here, but—”
“Came in through the door, and I heartily approve of the new type of sigh. Works well in this context.” He stooped down next to the tub with a crooked smile that could only be described as a knee wobbler, a term Cara and I had come up with for a man whose smile caused a woman’s knees to turn to jelly. The rest of his face went well with the smile.
His hand curled around the edge of the bath. I scooted away, which was comical considering I could only move about two inches before coming up against the far side of the tub.
“Coco sent me up here with the towels.” He inclined his head toward the vanity where he’d placed the towels. He made no attempt at hiding the fact that he was staring down into the bubbles.
“Thank you for the towels. Now please get out.”
He didn’t move. His smile pushed a nice crease alongside his mouth that only added to its appeal. His eyes were a dark blue, framed by thick black lashes. Dark brown hair was just messy and long enough to make me take a long, steadying breath. The hair curled up nicely on the collar of his flannel shirt. For a brief, scandalous moment, I imagined running my hand through his thick head of hair.
My uninvited bath guest rested his chin on the edge of the tub, bringing his face even with mine. One foot closer and our mouths would be pushed together.
“Are you always this uptight when you’re soaking in a bubble bath?” he asked.
“Only when I have a big, intimidating stranger hanging on the edge of the tub.”
“I can’t do anything about the big, or intimidating”—he raised a brow about that assessment—“but—” He stuck out his hand. It was huge and looked as if it could wield a hammer as well as it could finger me into a raging orgasm. Whoa, where the heck did that erotic thought come from? Must have been the sugar high and the heady scent of lavender. The gorgeous man staring at me didn’t hurt either.
“I’m Grayson.”
The tub was designed perfectly for reclining. I relaxed back with a long sigh.
A rush of cool air ushered inside the bathroom and footsteps plodded over the tile floor. Coco returning with the towels, I decided.
“Coco, I think I just invented a new type of sigh. It’s one that goes perfectly with the act of melting one’s body into a splendid tub of warm water.” I repeated the sound, and it swished around the room like a lost whisper. “Thank you so much for this. If you don’t see me in the morning, you’ll find me still sitting beneath the bubbles. You can just leave the towels. If it’s not too much trouble, could you retrieve the bar of soap? I knocked it off the edge.”
Footsteps tapped the tile as Coco neared the bath. I was growing drowsy behind the blindfold as I lazily lifted my hand above the bubbles. Surprisingly callused fingertips grazed my palm as the soap landed on my hand.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” The deep voice echoed off the walls and sent me upright.
I yanked off the blindfold and was staring at a faded pair of jeans. The bulge in front assured me of what my terror-filled mind had already surmised. Coco wasn’t the second person in the room.
I peered up at the impossibly tall man. His broad shoulders cast a giant shadow over the tub. His dark blue eyes stared down at me, more specifically at my breasts, which I’d now revealed by sitting straight up out of my bubble cloak.
I sank back down into the water. “I don’t know how you got in here, but—”
“Came in through the door, and I heartily approve of the new type of sigh. Works well in this context.” He stooped down next to the tub with a crooked smile that could only be described as a knee wobbler, a term Cara and I had come up with for a man whose smile caused a woman’s knees to turn to jelly. The rest of his face went well with the smile.
His hand curled around the edge of the bath. I scooted away, which was comical considering I could only move about two inches before coming up against the far side of the tub.
“Coco sent me up here with the towels.” He inclined his head toward the vanity where he’d placed the towels. He made no attempt at hiding the fact that he was staring down into the bubbles.
“Thank you for the towels. Now please get out.”
He didn’t move. His smile pushed a nice crease alongside his mouth that only added to its appeal. His eyes were a dark blue, framed by thick black lashes. Dark brown hair was just messy and long enough to make me take a long, steadying breath. The hair curled up nicely on the collar of his flannel shirt. For a brief, scandalous moment, I imagined running my hand through his thick head of hair.
My uninvited bath guest rested his chin on the edge of the tub, bringing his face even with mine. One foot closer and our mouths would be pushed together.
“Are you always this uptight when you’re soaking in a bubble bath?” he asked.
“Only when I have a big, intimidating stranger hanging on the edge of the tub.”
“I can’t do anything about the big, or intimidating”—he raised a brow about that assessment—“but—” He stuck out his hand. It was huge and looked as if it could wield a hammer as well as it could finger me into a raging orgasm. Whoa, where the heck did that erotic thought come from? Must have been the sugar high and the heady scent of lavender. The gorgeous man staring at me didn’t hurt either.
“I’m Grayson.”
Tess Oliver
Tess Oliver is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of Freefall.
She is a former teacher, who now dedicates her morning caffeine rush to writing romance instead of teaching math and reading. Tess lives in California, the land of perpetual sunshine and traffic, with her husband, kids and five dogs. She is a longtime romance junkie, who likes her hero to be an alpha with a twist of compassion and if he has long hair and rides a horse or a motorcycle all the better. She writes young adult, new adult and adult romance in both contemporary and historical settings. When she’s not reading or writing romance, she can be found hiking, vacuuming up dog hair or baking goodies for her family.
Anna Hart
Anna Hart is the author of the sexy new romance series, Stepbrother Cowboy and Stepbrother Fighter. She writes edgy romances that are filled with bad boys, alpha males and plenty of steam.
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