done with you
Oona and Aiden’s Story
Young Sisters, Book 5
Coming October 14, 2023
She already knows all of his secrets, and that’s what terrifies him the most.
Looking for one night to forget her problems, Oona Young uses an alias and follows a handsome stranger back to his hotel room. Their time together is brief but passionate, and she leaves in the morning, believing she’ll never see him again. Only when her newest patient is the same man who’s seen all of her tattoos, do things get awkward. She’s read his file and knows what he’s dealing with. Ethically, she must refuse to treat him.
Forced into therapy before he can return to active duty as a police officer, Aiden Lassiter has been on the waitlist to see Dr. Young for months. So imagine his frustration and shock when the woman, who hasn’t left his thoughts since that wild night he used a fake name, is sitting in the therapist’s chair and refuses to treat him.
Things can’t get any worse, right?
Oh, but they can and certainly do when he finally works up the courage to visit his estranged brother and Oona ends up beside him on the plane. Little do either of them know they’re in for one interesting Christmas.
You’d think they were drunk based on how they burst into the hotel room all gropey hands and sloppy kisses. But they were both stone-cold sober. They were just really horny.
He’d unhooked her bra in the elevator, and she had to keep herself from unzipping his jeans in there, too, when what lurked beneath that denim prodded her in the hip as he ground against her and his lips found her neck.
Thankfully, their room was only two doors down from the elevator and the key card worked.
Then they were in the room and clothes were flying everywhere as hands roamed and lips found new patches of bare skin to explore.
Her calves hit the end of the bed and he pulled his lips away from her shoulder, then with a grin, pushed her backward so she fell to the bed with a bounce. She smiled at him when he reached for the ankles of her jeans and tugged them off.
He was shirtless and the realistic and intense expression of an owl tattoo on his left shoulder and part of his bicep made her insides hum. The eyes of the owl were vivid and sort of glaring at her. But she wasn’t scared by the intimidating expression that regarded her as prey, she was intrigued and excited by it. She wanted him to devour her.
He’d relieved her of her shirt and bra just moments after the bedroom door closed. She wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed of her body, so to tumble back to the bed topless while still in her jeans didn’t faze.
But now she was just down to her panties.
His eyes lasered in on the V of her legs where she was positive he could see the damp patch she’d created on her cornflower blue cotton underwear. If she knew she’d be having sexy-time with a man, she would have put on something a little less practical with maybe some lace or satin. But whatever. He’d already seen her all glammed up in a corset and with six-inch plastic heels. Now he could see her how she was the other ninety-percent of her life. Practical and in a breathable fabric.
“I like your tattoo,” he said, which came out more like the purr of some wild jungle cat. He stepped between her spread legs which dangled over the edge of the bed, and traced the fine-line tattoo of a lily on the bottom of her left ribs. “You also have one on your shoulder blade and,” he pointed to her right tricep where the compass done in pointillism was, “and this one, here. Anything else?”
She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip and nodded.
His brows lifted, but then his gaze slid across her body, leaving a warm glowing heat on her skin where ever his eyes touched, until he focused on her belly button and the waistband of her underwear. “I have to finish unwrapping, if I want to see them all?”