I’m working on edits for book #2 in the Moving Series and thought I’d post a teaser from Book #1
Dean’s POV
There’s a note on the fridge when I get to my flat overlooking La Lucia’s famous white sand beach.
We need to talk. I will come over for dinner tonight.
Love,
Mom
My mother is shameless when it comes to breaking into my apartment. Every second of my day has to accounted for. My parents need to cut me some slack. People change—they’re always reminding me, so why the fuck does my mother keep looking for clues to suggest I might’ve slipped up?
I wonder what she and the old man have up come up with after reading the shit Ugly Betty posted. More charity work? No. It has to be something more serious.
My blood runs cold for a moment. I’ve always been perceptive when it comes to my parents, and this time I sense they’ve outdone themselves. Mom is particularly sensitive to what society thinks. She will go to any lengths to keep her reputation intact, and her ideas usually border on unreasonable.
Why does anyone have to take anything Ugly Betty says seriously? Sure, she’s amazingly popular in blogging circles in South Africa. But why the fuck do people pay any attention to the shit she posts? She’d had over a thousand comments the last time I checked her post. It’s like she posted pics of my hard, thick cock the way people were reading her blog.
I’ll find out soon enough.
The traffic’s eased up by the time I head out of La Lucia for the heart of the North Coast. Kwa-Zulu Natal is definitely the most laid back, beautiful place I’ve lived in. I love the anonymity of living here and being able to surf the waves before heading to campus every morning. The best part is the sunshine. Winter is almost nonexistent on the Kwa-Zulu Natal North Coast. People here don’t really care if you’re a celebrity or just a regular person minding your own business. They just let you be.
Unless they’re Lace Higgins.
“Arriving at destination,” my GPS says, cutting into my mental rehearsals of me shaking sense into Lace Higgins. I’ve pictured her with braces, unkempt, mud-colored hair, and garish makeup.
Lace lives in a pretty decent apartment complex near the only shopping center in Salt Rock. The beach isn’t too far off. In fact the complex is near enough for fine sea spray to drizzle on me when I get out my van. It’s a one-street town guaranteed to help anyone blend into obscurity. I bet her acid fingertips are the reason she has to live in a place where people give a shit about who she is and what she does for a living.
Lucky for me, security is pretty lax. I race up the stairs and pause outside her door. A split second before my knuckles can connect to door number eleven to knock, it swings open.
“Alison…dammit, you forgot…” The leggy blonde pauses after realizing I’m not Alison.
Her mouth drops open, and so does her satin robe.
Fuck. She’s as naked as the day she was born beneath the butter-yellow fabric. My cock hardens in seconds. She shivers slightly, and her nipples harden, and…I look down before she pulls the robe together… Her muff is shaved and so smooth I almost reach out and stroke her. Damn. There’s not an ounce of fat on her. Her tummy’s flat, her breasts full and ready to be tasted, and her skin’s a creamy white I could lick and bite until every inch of her was covered in little red marks.
“Show’s over, punk. Can I help you?” Green eyes flash blue murder at me while she knots the belt of her robe securely in place.
The acid in her voice is enough to soften my cock. “Maybe.” I can do acid too. “I’m looking for Lace Higgins.”
She gasps like I’ve proposed sex on the cold, hard floor. Her loose bun falls out of place, covering her face in fine, golden strands. She pushes the hair off her face and then looks me in the eye. “Why?”
“None of your business. This is between Lace and me.”
Sheritha Singh 