If you’ve followed me for a long time, you’ll remember Battle of the Sexes. It’s a novella that I wrote for a Kindle World before Amazon pulled that program. For years now, Battle of the Sexes has sat on my computer doing nothing.

Battle of the Sexes is currently FREE on my website! Enjoy a bite of Amity & Carver and then go grab your copy!

“For the record,” he says, his voice a low, honeyed rumble, “you would never have to beg me for anything.”

“Just dare you, right?”

His eyes darken, his lips twist into a thin, irritated line. “Amity, don’t.”

The words are nearly a growl, his gaze a penetrating shot straight to my core. My stomach twists, pulling tight as he takes a determined step towards me.

“I know you know I think you’re sexy as fuck,” he says. “But I want you to know something else.”

“What’s that?” I whisper.

“You’re the most attractive, most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Even though I’m certain he’s just saying that, I can’t help the heat in my cheeks. “Are you trying to get me to dare you, Mr. Jones?”


“Of course not.”

“I’m really not.” He approaches me, a hand tentatively reaching for the side of my face. He cups my jaw, stroking my chin with his thumb. “Don’t get me wrong—I’d love to fuck you right here, right now.”

My thighs press together, the ache in my core so strong my knees go weak.

“But here’s the thing,” he continues. “I almost think I’m better off to play it another way.”

“What way is that?” I whimper, hoping it’s a quicker route to the end zone. The burn between my legs is growing wildly out of control.

“To go slow. Do all the little things first. Seduce you.”

“That sounds like a very long process,” I say, my chest rising and falling.

“If you’re hard to seduce, it might be.” He leans in, his breath warm against my skin. “Then again, I get the feeling you may bail if I showed up with flowers or pressed a kiss to the back of your neck while you’re working.”

My heart twists, affected by his stupid choice of words and the confident swagger he’s owning right now.

“Yeah, not my thing,” I lie.

He grins. “I agree. It would probably take you a good six months to get there.”

“In six months, that will be considered against company policy,” I wink.

“That’s right. The CEO can’t make out with the President on company time. What was I thinking?”

“I tell you what,” I say, my body beginning to arch towards his. “Once I’m CEO, I’ll consider amending the handbook.”

“That’s great,” he grins. He releases my chin, his hand brushing down the side of my neck, over my clavicle, and across the top of my breast. I shiver at his touch, my body craving more. Wanting more. Needing more.

“Send me a copy and I’ll see about implementing it at Jones + Gallum.”

“You’re an ass,” I laugh, raising my hand to smack him, but he catches it mid-air. He holds it in place, our bodies finally make contact.

Struggling to breathe, I know if I push this any further, there will be no going back.

He smirks.

Screw it.


“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I think that process is too long, too drawn out to really be effective.”

“Do you have an alternative suggestion, Ms. Gallum?” he breathes.

“I think so.”

My breathing is haggard, my blood pressure soaring to unsafe levels as he runs the back of his hand down my side. “And what’s that?”

“I want you to fuck me right here, right now.”

His hand stills at my hip, his eyes glued to mine.

I smile. “I dare you.”