My readers are LOVING the Mason family in Restraint!
Did you know that Restraint was originally a short story in the back of Cross? I wrote it for a Men in Power collection and, once that was over, I put it in the back of Cross as a treat for my readers. Well, emails poured in consistently with readers demanding a full story for Blaire Gibson and Holt Mason.
So, I wrote it.
And it was SO MUCH FUN!
If you haven’t “met” these two yet OR if you read the short story and didn’t know this was the expanded version (a full-length novel that includes the short story so no worrie there!), let me give you a taste.
I lift my briefcase and step so that my back is against the wall, giving her more room. “So … dinner?”
She considers this. “I don’t typically go to dinner with nameless men.”
“That’s an easy fix.” I grin. “I’m Holton Mason. My friends call me Holt. All three of them.”
She laughs, her long lashes fluttering. I fight from reaching out and brushing the stray strand of hair off her cheek.
A hundred people might be swarming around us, but it may as well just be her in front of me. A circus could be clamoring down the hall, complete with elephants and man-eating tigers, and I wouldn’t notice.
“I’m not sure what my plans are, actually,” she says finally.
“Well, let’s meet up, and I’ll help you make them.”
She smiles. “I bet you would, Holt.”
“Ah, you used the nickname. That’s a good sign.”
“I just feel sorry that only three people like you.”
“Does that mean you’ll give me your number?”
Digging in her bag and pulling out a small notepad, she rips off the bottom of a sheet in a crisp line. She offers it to me along with a pen. “No, but you can give me yours.”
“I could text it to you.”
A single, perfectly arched brow rises farther. “And I could exit those doors and get into my rental car. Your call.”
My fingers wrap around the scrap of paper, glancing at her delicate fingers in the process. Visions of them gripping my cock pop immediately to mind, and I have to shake them away.
“I can’t say I’ve had a woman refuse to give me her number before,” I say, the words mixed with a chuckle.
A part of me wants to refuse, just to see if she’ll bend. But when I look at her standing there, the resolution in her eyes means she’s not bluffing. So while that’s frustrating in a plethora of ways, it’s also really kind of hot.
“But there’s a first time for everything, right?” I scratch out my digits and hand the paper back to her.
She presses her lips together and drops the pen and paper into her bag without even looking at it. “Thanks.”
“I look forward to seeing you again,” I say as she turns toward the doors.
“Nice to meet you,” she replies with no indication that I will see her again. In a split second, she disappears.
Like a damn fool, I don’t move. I just stand and watch her, breathing in the remaining notes of her perfume. It’s a second too late before I realize I don’t even know her name.