A Bit of Rough by Lucy Felthouse
Authors: Lucy Felthouse
Tags: Erótica, Contemporary, fling, contemporary erotica, Noble Romance Publishing, LLC, Lucy Felthouse, male/female
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Noble Romance Publishing, LLC
A Bit of Rough
ISBN 978-1-60592-302-4
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
A Bit of Rough Copyright 2011 Lucy Felthouse
Cover Art by Fiona Jayde
Edited by Kerry Manzo
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any existing means without written permission from the publisher. Contact Noble Romance Publishing, LLC at PO Box 467423, Atlanta, GA 31146.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.
Blurb
When Alison meets Andrew ("call me Drew"), she instantly pegs him as a moron.
He's a total bad boy and does nothing but chain smoke and brag about his stream of past conquests. Yet, much to her confusion, Alison still finds herself attracted to him.
She's not had sex in a while, so Alison figures there's no harm in going home with him to get herself a bit of rough.
A Bit of Rough
By Lucy Felthouse
When I met Andrew through friends of friends, I instantly pegged him as a bit of a moron. We were in a pub, and he was telling anybody that would listen about the many mishaps in his love life. Turns out he was quite the ladies' man and had many close calls. The one he was regaling the room with when I arrived was an incident where he'd blown off a woman for the evening, only for her to turn up at his house and see him getting hot and heavy with someone else. Despite the fact he was mocking himself, it sounded like he was desperate for the people listening to know just how many women had been in his life, for however brief an interlude. He was one of those guys you love to hate. And yet, I still fancied him rotten. It was totally bizarre. He was not my type at all.
He was just a little taller than me, slim and lightly tattooed. His facial hair was somewhere between stubble and beard, his hair had no discernable style, and he smoked. I like my men tall, muscular, and clean-shaven. And I hate smoking.
Therefore, it took me a while to put my finger on the reason—or reasons—for my odd attraction to the guy. When I finally worked it out, it was like a light bulb clicked on in my head.
He was—or at least he thought he was—a bad boy. What many would call "a bit of rough." He was the guy you never introduced to your friends and certainly not to your parents. You kept him completely under wraps—preferably between the sheets—and enjoyed.
I got the vibe from his oozing self-confidence and the way he recounted his colorful sex life, that he was probably good in bed. I resolved to find out. I didn't need to make a move; his arrogance assured him he was irresistible to all women, and he came on to me, knowing I wouldn't refuse.
I almost did, just to take him down a peg or two. But he was hot, and I was horny, so I didn't mind him picking me up. After all, I had no intention of becoming one of his amusing anecdotes. I wasn't going to stick around long enough for that. I was simply in it for my "bit of rough"—then I was a goner.
We decided to go back to his place. I wouldn't have been bothered either way, but it was clear he felt more comfortable in familiar surroundings. Plus, the more I thought about it, the more I realized going to his place was the more sensible option.
I could scoot home whenever I wanted, and he'd never know where to find me. Not that I thought for a moment he was the type to stand below my bedroom window, declaring undying love, but I wasn't about to take that chance.
As Andrew and I left the bar, my friend Jodi grabbed me for a "quick word." I excused myself and went with her to the Ladies' for our chat.
"What's the matter?" I asked her, eager now to hit the road with my conquest.
Or was I his?
"What are you doing?" Jodi asked. "You know he's a total man-whore, don't you?"
I grinned. "Of course. That's why I'm going home with him. I'm horny, he's gorgeous, and I reckon he'll be a great lay. Don't worry;
A Bit of Rough
ISBN 978-1-60592-302-4
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
A Bit of Rough Copyright 2011 Lucy Felthouse
Cover Art by Fiona Jayde
Edited by Kerry Manzo
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any existing means without written permission from the publisher. Contact Noble Romance Publishing, LLC at PO Box 467423, Atlanta, GA 31146.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.
Blurb
When Alison meets Andrew ("call me Drew"), she instantly pegs him as a moron.
He's a total bad boy and does nothing but chain smoke and brag about his stream of past conquests. Yet, much to her confusion, Alison still finds herself attracted to him.
She's not had sex in a while, so Alison figures there's no harm in going home with him to get herself a bit of rough.
A Bit of Rough
By Lucy Felthouse
When I met Andrew through friends of friends, I instantly pegged him as a bit of a moron. We were in a pub, and he was telling anybody that would listen about the many mishaps in his love life. Turns out he was quite the ladies' man and had many close calls. The one he was regaling the room with when I arrived was an incident where he'd blown off a woman for the evening, only for her to turn up at his house and see him getting hot and heavy with someone else. Despite the fact he was mocking himself, it sounded like he was desperate for the people listening to know just how many women had been in his life, for however brief an interlude. He was one of those guys you love to hate. And yet, I still fancied him rotten. It was totally bizarre. He was not my type at all.
He was just a little taller than me, slim and lightly tattooed. His facial hair was somewhere between stubble and beard, his hair had no discernable style, and he smoked. I like my men tall, muscular, and clean-shaven. And I hate smoking.
Therefore, it took me a while to put my finger on the reason—or reasons—for my odd attraction to the guy. When I finally worked it out, it was like a light bulb clicked on in my head.
He was—or at least he thought he was—a bad boy. What many would call "a bit of rough." He was the guy you never introduced to your friends and certainly not to your parents. You kept him completely under wraps—preferably between the sheets—and enjoyed.
I got the vibe from his oozing self-confidence and the way he recounted his colorful sex life, that he was probably good in bed. I resolved to find out. I didn't need to make a move; his arrogance assured him he was irresistible to all women, and he came on to me, knowing I wouldn't refuse.
I almost did, just to take him down a peg or two. But he was hot, and I was horny, so I didn't mind him picking me up. After all, I had no intention of becoming one of his amusing anecdotes. I wasn't going to stick around long enough for that. I was simply in it for my "bit of rough"—then I was a goner.
We decided to go back to his place. I wouldn't have been bothered either way, but it was clear he felt more comfortable in familiar surroundings. Plus, the more I thought about it, the more I realized going to his place was the more sensible option.
I could scoot home whenever I wanted, and he'd never know where to find me. Not that I thought for a moment he was the type to stand below my bedroom window, declaring undying love, but I wasn't about to take that chance.
As Andrew and I left the bar, my friend Jodi grabbed me for a "quick word." I excused myself and went with her to the Ladies' for our chat.
"What's the matter?" I asked her, eager now to hit the road with my conquest.
Or was I his?
"What are you doing?" Jodi asked. "You know he's a total man-whore, don't you?"
I grinned. "Of course. That's why I'm going home with him. I'm horny, he's gorgeous, and I reckon he'll be a great lay. Don't worry;
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