The
Boss
The
Boss
Book
1
Abigail
Barnette
Genre:
Erotic romance/BDSM
Date
of Publication: August 2013
ISBN:
978-1493625482
ASIN:
B00ENTIAJM
Number
of pages: 353
Word
Count: 120,000
Cover
Artist: Jenny Trout
Book
Description:
Sophie
Scaife almost ran away once, trading her ticket to college for a
ticket to Tokyo. But a delayed flight and a hot one-night stand with
a stranger changed her mind, putting her firmly on track to a coveted
position at a New York fashion magazine.
When
the irresistible stranger from that one incredible night turns out to
be her new boss - billionaire and publishing magnate Neil Elwood -
Sophie can't resist the chance to rekindle the spark between them...
and the opportunity to explore her submissive side with the most
Dominant man she's ever known.
Neil
is the only man who has ever understood Sophie's need to submit in
the bedroom, and the only man who has ever satisfied those desires.
When their scorching, no-strings-attached sexual relationship becomes
something more, Sophie must choose between her career and heart... or
risk losing them both.
Excerpt
from The Boss
I
couldn’t believe I was doing this. I couldn’t believe it was
actually happening, after six years. After I had given up hope of
ever having a sexual experience as satisfying as my night with Leif.
Every muscle in my body tensed with anticipation. My breath caught in
my chest as my fingers ventured down, under the black lace of my
panties. I thought back to my white cotton underpants that night at
the Crowne Plaza, and I giggled to myself. If anyone had told me back
then that I’d be sex ambushing the man six years later, I wouldn’t
have believed I would have the nerve.
I
closed my eyes and stroked two fingers down my slit. My hips lifted.
I’d been so eager for this moment, now it seemed like my skin was
too sensitive to touch. I thought of what Neil would see when he
walked in, and remembered the undisguised appreciation in his eyes
while he’d watched our hands on my body.
My
stomach fluttered with nervous butterflies. What if he was expecting
the girl from six years ago, who’d only had sex with fumbling
teenage boys? What if he got here and was turned off by my
initiative? After all, he’d found my naiveté so endearing the last
time we were together.
Oh
shut up, I scolded myself. Would you really want to fuck a guy who
only wanted you for your sexual inexperience? No, because that would
be weird.
I’d
made a salient point, I had to concede.
My
fingertips circled my clit, and a shaky breath stuttered across my
lips. My flesh felt hot and heavy under my hand, and I cupped myself,
letting my fingers slip between the folds of my sex.
The
door clicked open, and the weight of my desire became like an
electric current. My lungs seized, my limbs quivered. I opened my
eyes, a soft groan escaping me when I saw Neil there. He closed the
door and dropped his messenger bag. His gaze met mine and held it as
he walked toward me in his long black coat and leather gloves. I
don’t know how I managed to maintain eye contact, but I did, and I
had never felt so sexy in my entire life. Why had I ever doubted that
this would please him?
His
maddeningly neutral expression gave nothing away, but he couldn’t
disguise the hunger in his eyes. Oh, he wanted me. He stood over me,
looking down as I continued to move my hand beneath my panties.
“Take
those off.” His voice was soft and deep, the tone firm. I was being
commanded, not asked. A perverse thrill shot through me, and I
shivered.
His
eyes followed my hands as I slowly peeled the scrap of black lace
down my thighs. He stepped closer and ran one gloved hand up my calf,
raising goose bumps on my skin. I moaned at the cool touch of the
leather, and he grasped my panties, jerking them down the rest of the
way. I slipped my feet from them and watched him lift the lace to his
nose.
“Oh
god.” My exclamation tore out on a ragged breath, and I pressed my
thighs together against the pounding ache in my cunt. I wanted him so
badly I trembled, but I was afraid of what would happen when we
actually touched. The longing, the desperate, clawing sexual need
that had been missing from every encounter I’d had in the
intervening six years crashed over me, turned my blood into liquid
desire coursing to every throbbing cell in my body.
“Don’t
stop,” he said, removing his gloves slowly, tugging one fingertip
at a time. I spread my legs a little, and he ordered, “Wider.”
I
heard my pulse in my ears as I parted my thighs further. Neil took
off his coat and tossed it across the ottoman, on top of the gloves
he’d already discarded. He moved to stand between my spread legs,
looking down at me with his hands in his pockets. He was hard, his
cock a visible ridge against his fly beneath his unbuttoned jacket.
I
stroked myself, letting my fingers wander further, to dip inside
before tracing upward again, coated in the evidence of my
overwhelming desire. I smoothed the silky wetness over my clitoris,
into the short, neatly trimmed strip of hair on my mound.
Wordlessly,
Neil watched me rub my clit in slow circles. Being like this for him,
my legs open, my pussy exposed and gleaming wet while he stood there
fully dressed, turned the naughty factor up to eleven and then some.
Just thinking about what I was doing spiked my arousal higher. I had
done things with him that I’d never done with anyone else, and that
knowledge made me feel oddly safe.
My
thighs tensed, and I planted my black pumps firmly against the rug.
My orgasm wound tight inside me, ready to spring and uncoil me from
the inside out. A yelped, “Ah!” of frustration escaped me, and I
lifted my hips from the sofa. I was going to come, I was so close, I
was going to come while he watched me, without him ever touching me,
and I was so goddamn close—
“Stop.”
The
Girlfriend
The
Boss
Book
2
Abigail
Barnette
Genre:
erotic romance/BDSM
Date
of Publication: August 2013
ISBN:
978-1492744115
ASIN:
B00EN0NAB4
Number
of pages: 391
Word
Count: 132,000
Cover
Artist: Jenny Trout
Book
Description:
Unemployed,
blacklisted, and pregnant, Sophie Scaife’s life is totally upside
down. Her relationship with publishing magnate Neil Elwood is on the
rocks. Her best friend’s career is igniting. And Sophie is afraid
she’ll make one of the toughest decisions of her life alone…
When
a devastating diagnosis forces Neil to return to London, Sophie
throws caution to the wind to follow her heart across the Atlantic.
Keeping a scorching D/s affair as red-hot in sickness as it was in
health is a challenge, even for two lovers as inventive as Sophie and
Neil. But Sophie is more than willing to try anything her Sir
commands, and their fantasies of control become a welcome refuge from
the daily stress of illness.
While
Neil’s wealth and privilege make adjusting to her new situation
easier, Sophie finds herself rebuilding her life around an uncertain
future. And while both of them face the changes between them head-on,
they’re all too aware that their happiness may be fleeting—and
Sophie could lose Neil forever.
Excerpt
from The Girlfriend
How
do you tell the guy who just tried to break up with you that you’re
pregnant with his baby?
When
the doors opened on his floor and I stepped into the softly lit
vestibule, Neil was there already, waiting for me.
When
I saw him, my stomach dropped like I was in the backseat of a minivan
going over a bad hill. He was pale, he looked tired, and the smile he
gave me was worried and forced.
But
he was still Neil, so handsome and tall, with his
in-between-blonde-and-brown hair and his gorgeous green eyes. My
heart flip-flopped, like it always did, since that first moment we’d
met at LAX over six years ago.
“Hello,
Sophie.”
“Hey,”
I responded in a short, friendly monotone as we moved into the inner
foyer. His apartment, which I had just begun to feel comfortable in
before our near-breakup or breakup-in-progress, whatever was
happening between us, suddenly seemed like a stranger’s home. I’d
had a difficult enough time getting used to the fact that my
boyfriend lived in a Fifth Avenue palace with checkered marble floors
and a freaking home movie theatre. Now I felt like I had to be on my
very best behavior.
Neil
helped me with my coat. “You look very pretty,” he said softly.
I
hadn’t changed out of the crème-colored cowl-necked sweater and
soft old jeans I’d worn to the doctor’s office. I didn’t feel
particularly pretty, but I murmured a thank you all the same. I noted
his salmon button down. “It’s not pink, it’s salmon,” he had
argued with me a few weeks ago, before we’d tumbled playfully into
his bed.
I
blinked back my tears at the memory. “You’re not so bad yourself.
Did you go to work today?”
“No,
I was just so tired of hospital gowns. I needed to get dressed or end
up deeply depressed.” His laugh was short.
I
wanted to touch him. I wanted him to touch me. I just wanted
everything to be okay between us.
He
led me to the kitchen, where Sue had laid out our neatly plated
dinners. “Halibut, I hope you don’t mind.”
“It
smells amazing.” It actually smelled awful, but I didn’t hold
that against his housekeeper. It was the uninvited guest in my
uterus. It made everything smell ten times stronger than usual. I
looked around the kitchen. The counters were scrubbed clean, the
light was off over the stove. I slid into one side of the breakfast
nook. “Sue’s gone for the night?”
“I
didn’t ask her to stay on past seven.” He went around the wide,
marble-topped island and reached into the cooler beneath, coming up
with a bottle of white wine.
“None
for me, thanks,” I said, too quick. He gave me a strange look, and
put the bottle away.
That
was weird. He usually liked wine with dinner.
Oh
god, he was probably staying sober to let me down gently when he
broke things off for good. The wine was for me, to drown my sorrows,
if necessary.
I
completely lost my appetite.
“So...”
He sat down across from me and unfolded his napkin. “It’s been a
while since we’ve talked. Any developments in the job hunt?”
I
knew what he was asking me. “I didn’t take the job with
Gabriella.”
He
nodded, and poured ice water into my glass from the carafe on the
table. “Were her terms—”
“You
know why I turned it down.” My hands clenched in my lap. I was more
angry than I thought I would be. I’d been preparing for this
moment, steeling myself against hurt and disappointment so that I
could walk away with dignity. Instead, my emotional control snapped
like a rubber band and I accused, “How dare you.”
“Sorry?”
He looked like a man staring through the windshield of a car that was
nanoseconds from hitting him.
“You
did it again. You pushed me into making this huge decision, but you
acted like you were somehow protecting me. You did it when you stole
my plane tickets six years ago. Now you tell me that I have to take
this job because it’s a wonderful opportunity, and you
magnanimously declare that you’ll let me go if you have to.
“You
didn’t even ask me what I wanted. You didn’t tell me what you
wanted. It’s like you don’t care about the outcome, you just
don’t want to feel responsible for it.”
“Magnanimous?”
he repeated, outraged.
My
hands were clenched to fists beneath the table. If we were going to
break up, then we might as well raze this fucker, salt the earth, and
poison the ground water. “If you didn’t want to be with me...
then just break up with me. Don’t force me to make the choice for
you.”
He
was struggling to control his temper as he said, measured and
controlled, “I wanted you to slow down and think about what you
were doing, and where we were headed. You keep pushing me away—”
“I
keep pushing you away?” I snorted derisively. “When I got to the
hospital the other night, I was so worried about you. Then, you
basically break up with me and try to make it seem like it was for my
own good. For four days, I felt like I couldn’t call you or see how
you were doing, while you were in the fucking hospital. I had to get
updates from Deja, and all of those were total bullshit. Exhaustion?
You don’t get exhausted.”
“On
the contrary, I was quite exhausted,” he said quietly.
I
looked up, and I knew he could see how furious I was from the way he
slightly flinched when our eyes met. Good.
I
reached into my pocket and fished out the ultrasound image. I placed
it face down on the table and slid it toward him. “I needed you. I
called you eleven times because I was freaked out and scared about
this. And I came down to the hospital afraid something really
horrible had happened to you, and I was thinking about all the stuff
I would miss about you if you died. And what the hell was I going to
do about this?”
He
lifted the photo and turned it over. It took a moment for him to
register what it was. I saw a surprising mixture of emotions in his
expression, things I didn’t expect. I’d been prepared for angry,
or scared. Maybe cold, or strained and polite. Instead, his eyebrows
lifted and he blinked in momentary shock. The slightest smile
twitched at the corner of his lips. He looked pleased, maybe even a
little proud.
I
clasped my hands together under the table to stop myself from
trembling. The longer he looked at the photo, the more the color
drained from his face. There it was. That was more like what I had
expected.
He
looked up, throat moving as he swallowed. His eyes met mine, and a
sick feeling of dread curdled my stomach. Whatever he was going to
say, I knew it was going to be bad. But it was so much worse than I
had expected.
“I
have cancer.”
The
Bride
The
Boss
Book
3
Abigail
Barnette
Genre:
erotic romance/BDSM
Date
of Publication: March 2014
ISBN:
1497486173
ASIN:
B00J8QG7BI
Number
of pages: 415
Word
Count: 140,000
Cover
Artist: Jenny Trout
Book
Description:
After
a tumultuous year, Sophie Scaife’s relationship with her boyfriend
and Dom, billionaire media mogul Neil Elwood, is hotter and happier
than ever. His sizzling Dominant side pushes Sophie to new and
challenging heights of submission and erotic exploration as she
follows her Sir’s every whim. But with his daughter’s impending
wedding and a milestone birthday turning Neil’s thoughts toward
settling down, Sophie faces a much different future than she’d
planned.
Caught
in a conflict between her new wealth and her desire for independence,
Sophie fears she’s becoming just another Fifth Avenue trophy wife.
With her fashion journalism career over and her new effort as a
writer uninspiring, Sophie has to work harder than ever to prove her
intentions to Neil’s family and friends.
Sophie
isn’t the only one struggling to adapt to her new lifestyle. When
private jets and designer labels threaten her bond with Holli, Sophie
finds herself walking a fine line between the world she now inhabits
and the past—and people—she fears she’s left behind. After a
shocking revelation divides her loyalties, Sophie is in danger of
losing her best friend or fracturing the trust of the man she loves.
Excerpt
from The Bride
“I
have a game in mind,” he continued, sliding the pocket door closed.
There was a little latch on it, and he flicked it down. “Are you
interested?”
“Always.”
“Then
get naked and get your ass on that table.”
“Yes,
Sir!” As I readily complied with his order, he took something out
of a seat pocket. A deck of cards. So, it really was a game.
“Is
something funny?” he asked, a delicious hint of warning in his tone
as he slid smoothly into his role as my Dom.
I
shook my head. “No, Sir. Just anticipation.”
“If
you enjoy anticipation, then you’ll very much enjoy this game.”
He slid the cards from their box and shuffled them between his big
hands. He waited until I was completely naked and sitting primly on
the edge of the table, then he said, “Slide back, bring your knees
up, and spread them. If you’d put your heels on the corners of the
table, that would be ideal.”
“But
then I’ll be wide open, Sir,” I teased, slowly pushing back and
lifting my feet up to rest where he’d indicated. There was such a
naughty thrill at being completely naked in a situation where people
normally weren’t naked. I mean, I’d never seen anyone so exposed
on an intercontinental flight before. Maybe I’d been on the wrong
planes.
“While
I explain the rules, I’d like you to stroke your clitoris. One
finger only, no penetration,” he added sternly.
I
slipped my middle finger into my mouth and held his gaze as I sucked
it down to the knuckle. When I pulled it out, it shined with my
saliva, and I reached between my legs to do as he’d instructed.
He
pulled a card from the deck and held it up. It was a seven of clubs.
“Clubs, denial.”
I
took a shaky breath. We’d played games with my orgasms before. It
was the best—and worst—activity.
He
plucked another card from the center of the deck, glanced at it, put
it back, and pulled another. Ace of spades. “Spades, ruined.”
Ruined
orgasms were the worst. But they made every one that came after them
so much more intense, because it took longer to get there.
“Sir?”
I asked. “Do the number values on the cards have any bearing, or
are we just going by the suits?”
He
considered a moment. “Which would you prefer?”
I
thought about how frustrating a ten of spades would be, and decided,
“Let’s just go with the suits.”
“Numbers
for another time, perhaps?” he suggested with a lascivious smirk.
He pulled another card. “Diamonds—”
“Mean
I can come?” The hot flush of arousal that pulsed between my legs
intensified at the word.
“Mean
I get to decide the action.” He stepped between my legs and traced
the edge of the card from my ankle to my knee. “I’ll give you a
command, and you’ll obey.”
“That
sounds like just another day at the office,” I challenged him.
He
moved the edge of the card down the slope of my thigh, over my hip
and stomach, between my breasts, up to my throat. He dropped the card
and gripped my jaw, the rough touch sending darts of desire through
me. “Do you want a spanking?”
I
lifted my leg and rubbed my toes across the front of his jeans.
“Always.”
He
grinned down at me and leaned in for a languid kiss. I savored his
mouth on mine, darted my tongue along his lower lip. His beard
pricked my chin, and I rubbed my cheek against his. He released my
face and sank his fingers into the hair at my nape. I rolled my clit
in slow circles while he kissed me, the shocks of desire there echoed
by the delicious tingling in my lips and tongue. My leg caught
between us as he pressed me down. When he pulled back, I flexed my
foot, feeling the thickness of his erection through his jeans.
With
a maddening half-smile, he picked the cards up again and shuffled
them, then withdrew one. “Hearts mean you’re allowed to orgasm.
Do you understand the rules of the game?”
I
nodded, my breathing increasing in tempo to match my rising desire.
“I understand, Sir.”
He
put the cards down on the table between my legs and drew one from the
top. A heart.
I
thought he would be disappointed that his game had so quickly
rewarded me. If he was, I saw no sign of it as he brushed my hand
away from my mound and spread my labia to expose my engorged,
throbbing clit. He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger, and
dropped to his knees to give me a slow lick.
I
groaned and leaned on my elbows, letting my head fall back. My hair
hung loose, brushing my shoulders, and I sighed happily as Neil’s
lips closed over me. He alternated rolling my clit between his
fingers and lapping and sucking at it with his tongue. I squirmed
against his mouth. After a year together, he knew everywhere I needed
to be touched. He could get me off almost as fast as I could get
myself off, which made sense, since he’d studied me doing it
enough. I whimpered at the intensity that built without faltering,
and, mindful that we weren’t alone on the plane, I breathed deeply
through my nose to keep from moaning.
His
facial hair chafed my thighs and labia in the best possible way. He
slipped a finger into me, and I clutched on him, rocking my hips
against his face. He found my g-spot like he’d grown up in the
neighborhood, and my hands curled on the polished wood tabletop. My
calves cramped and my knees hugged his head. I managed to subdue
myself to a low groan as I climaxed.
He
withdrew his finger, but kept the other hand busy on my over
stimulated clit as I panted and tried to wriggle away. He took
another card and held it up, and my brain registered that it was a
spade even as I climbed toward a second orgasm, one I would be
cruelly denied at the last possible second. Neil had ruining an
orgasm down to a science. My pussy clenched, the sharp edge of
pleasure twisting tighter and tighter, and just when I thought I
would come, just when I desperately wanted it, he pulled his hand
away.
“No,
don’t!” I begged, but I didn’t say “red,” the word I used
when I really wanted to stop, so he didn’t give in.
He
laughed low and said, “Oh, Sophie. Begging for mercy? Have we met?”
About
the Author:
Abigail
Barnette is the erotic romance pseudonym of Jenny Trout, YAauthor,
blogger, and funny person. Writing as Jennifer Armintrout, she made
the USA Today bestseller list with Blood Ties Book One: The Turning.
Her novel American Vampire was named one of the top ten horror novels
of 2011 by Booklist Magazine Online. She is a proud Michigander,
mother of two, and wife to the only person alive capable of spending
extended periods of time with her without wanting to kill her.
@jenny_trout
Tour
giveaway
1
set of signed paperbacks of THE BOSS, THE GIRLFRIEND, and THE BRIDE
open
to international readers
2
Screaming O ™ lipstick vibe as featured in THE BOSS, with one
signed paperback copy of THE BOSS
US only
5
ebook copies of THE BRIDE
