Grumpy sunshine, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, angst and Christmas all in one sexy package

Title: Done With You
Series: A Young Sisters Novel
Author: Whitley Cox
Genre: Close Proximity, Cop, Enemies to Lovers, Christmas, Broken Hero
Release Date: 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.

 

 

“What can you say about the book you’ve been waiting for to come out but WOWZERS! This is the last Young sister we’ve seen her in past books but wow is Oona amazing. She and Aiden meet unexpectedly and have a fun sexy night together. However the next day everything goes down hill and keeps on rolling. Will they figure it out?” ~Mrs Taz (Amazon Review)

“My favourite scene in the story is when all of the sisters are able to get together and really work through just how hurtful their upbringing was. But then they realized that finding strength in the struggle to become the women they turned out to be: top of their game in their chosen professions, loved by friends and family, desired by the men who stood up for their love really made their chosen family theirs.” ~AngelaC (Amazon Review)

 

“I can smell you,” he growled, trailing his fingers delicately up her inner thigh, gathering some of her arousal that coated her inner lips, and pressing the pad of his thumb against her clit. “Smell how bad you want me. How bad you want my cock in your tight little cunt.”

Normally, a man smelling her arousal would be something that would embarrass her. Yet, with Aiden, she was turned on by it. She didn’t care. Didn’t give a damn that he knew how hot she was for him. How much she wanted him. He clearly wanted her, too, otherwise, he wouldn’t have attacked her with his mouth and undressed her. 

Her body was open and ready for him. Ready to welcome the enemy. 

They could keep things drama free for Rayma and Jordan’s sake, but right now, they had things they needed to clear up. Closure sex. 

Yeah, that’s what this was. 

Angry, hateful, closure sex. 

That was a thing, right?

Like a bookend to a bad story. They had sex as strangers. Albeit strangers who seemed to like each other and get along. Then things turned ugly. And now, they were at the end of the book, and although it wasn’t a happy ending, they were attempting to wrap things up with a hate fuck of closure. 

That made very little sense to her, but whatever. That was what it was. 

Reaching between them, she wrapped her fingers around his cock and stroked him, pulling a bear-like growl from deep within his chest. “Why?” he breathed, dropping his mouth next to her ear. 

She had no answers. She couldn’t push a word from her tight throat if she tried. 

“I hate you,” he said, his mouth next to her temple. 

Yeah, and she wasn’t overly fond of him, either. 

“But I … I can’t resist. No fucking self-control.”

Whoa! Her pussy spasmed and she nearly came from that tortured confession.

With her free hand, she shoved her fingers into his hair and wrenched his head back, only to take his mouth with force, wedging her tongue between his lips. He bit her lip and growled again, taking control of their kiss, and forcing her to tilt her head the other way. 

She ripped her mouth away, pulling in air like she’d just resurfaced from a record-breaking free dive. She needed to keep hold of at least some of her wits. To keep her desire for this man, whom she definitely shouldn’t want, from completely drowning her. To remind him that he hated her, and this was a terrible idea. 

But still, no words formed on her tongue. The ability to put vowels and consonants together to form words eluded her.

And it wasn’t just because she didn’t want to be the one to break, it was because even though she knew this was a terrible idea, a colossally disastrous idea, she couldn’t stop.

She didn’t want to.

Then, he pushed one finger, and another into her channel and pumped. Their cheeks were glued together, sweat forming between their pressed-together skin, as they both panted, his cock throbbing hotly in her palm while she stroked him. He curled his fingers inside of her and she ground down onto his palm, biting her lip and tipping her head back. But he wasn’t having any of that, apparently, and pulled his fingers free of her almost fast enough to give her pussy whiplash. 

Then she was off the counter and bent over the arm of the couch, ass in the air. She didn’t remember leaving her purse in the living room last night, but there it was, right on the floor beside his big, bare feet. He bent down and rifled through it until he found a condom. The sound of the wrapper being ripped open was deafening, and the anticipation of what was to come, agonizing and glorious. 

Her legs shook and her pussy pulsed, causing another trickle of arousal to run down her inner thigh.

 

 

A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
 
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
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“OMG while on holiday I finished in one day it was that good!” Not Over You is OUT! Closet Dom, brat heroine, cop, Thanksgiving Rom-Com

 

Title: Not Over You
Author: Whitley Cox
Release: October 1, 2022
Genre: second-chance, closet Dom, brat heroine, cop romance, romantic comedy, thanksgiving comedy, heroine with PTSD

She’s thankful for many things this year, but her ex moving back to town isn’t one of them.
Four years ago, Officer Jordan Lassiter swept Rayma Young off her feet, making the twenty-year-old finally feel safe and loved. His quiet, calm, take-charge attitude made it easy for her to trust him with all of her secrets—even the dark ones.
Eager to prove himself as a rookie cop, Jordan accepted a transfer too far away for their relationship to work. Heartbroken, they broke up but remained friends. Or at least that’s what she thought …
Three years later, Jordan’s back and thinks they can just pick up right where they left off.
Not happening.
Hurt and angry for ghosting her, Rayma has slammed her walls back up and not even Jordan and his patient control will convince her to give him back her heart.
But when they wind up at the same Thanksgiving dinner, it’s all Rayma can do to remain strong as happy memories begin to crack the protective shell she’s forged around her heart, while Jordan does everything he can to win her back.
Except give her the one thing she needs.
His trust.

 

 

“It’s date number six, Jordan …” Rayma said, exasperated, horny, and looking hotter than she’d ever looked—in her opinion. “Can you at least kiss me for fuck’s sake?”

Jordan’s mouth twisted as he tried to hide his smile. “You really don’t care who can hear you, do you?”

Rayma rolled her eyes. “Sure fucking don’t. This is all just a game to you, isn’t it?”

“Couldn’t be further from a game, Rayma,” Jordan said, ushering them forward as they waited in line for a busy new restaurant that had just opened up downtown. Rayma had been trying to get a reservation for ages since everyone in her classes was just raving about the place, but so far, she hadn’t had any luck. Jordan, however, appeared to have pulled some strings and they had a reservation for eight o’clock. 

She’d changed her outfit four times that night before finally deciding on an adorable but also ridiculously sexy long-sleeved black dress that hit her on her upper thigh and showed off what little cleavage she had in a lace-trimmed sweetheart neckline. Her black boots with the four-inch heels hit her knees, and the black leather jacket that she was also permanently borrowing from Pasha’s closet tied it all together perfectly. She kept her hair down in thick waves and wore tear-drop cubic zirconia earrings, because, well, she was a starving student, she ain’t got the scratch for diamonds. 

Even with Jordan’s reservations, the restaurant was still packed and people were forced to wait outside in the cold as the staff hurried to clear and re-set tables. 

She shivered where she stood, questioning her choice of attire since her entire thighs were exposed to the elements and a sharp breeze from the harbor was tickling her ass cheeks.

“Here.” He tugged her in front of him, wrapped his arms around her front and plastered her back to his chest. He pulled the sides of his open peacoat around her, enveloping her in his heat and decadent scent. “Better?” 

“Infinitely,” she said. She pushed her ass back against his crotch and was pleased with the slight hitch to his breath. At least he wasn’t immune to her advances and friend-zoning her, which was what she thought was happening after date number two and he still didn’t even kiss her. 

By date four she thought maybe she had bad breath or stunk. But after a thorough pit sniff and a lot of mouthwash, she determined that wasn’t the case, either. 

Date five had her ready to end things right then and there, but then when he said he made reservations at Ellapora since the owner was a friend of a friend, she decided she’d at least see how date seven went before she decided to cut the hot, celibate cop loose. 

She did another little hip shimmy and smiled to herself when he groaned and his cock jerked in his dress pants against the crease of her ass. “Careful,” he warned.

 

 

 

A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
 
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.

 

 

 

 

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