BLURB
I’ve always been a good girl.
I work hard, I follow the rules, and I always achieve my goals.
But sometimes good girls want things that aren’t good for them.
Or someone who isn’t good for them.
Like their new boss.
And sometimes they do very bad things to get his attention.
Like sell their virginity in an auction.
Who knew he’d be so very, very mad?
Maybe this was not my best laid plan…
4.5 StarsReview by Jen Skewes
What a fun read? I have come to expect snarky and funny and witty humor from Ms. Aston. Her writing style screams real life and clever inner dialogue and I love it!
Lydia Clark is just about to start her first real job, she and her best friend Payton, have gotten jobs at the new Windsor casino in Vegas. Payton's dragged her off to a bar and wants Lydia to lighten up a bit.
"So you want me to kiss someone and then we can leave?"
Lydia spots a hot guy who she is checking out when he walks up and says he'll kiss her. Yep, hot guy is going to be her designated kisser. And can he kiss!
"You've had your kiss. You can go home now, good girl."
Lydia is a good girl, she's spent years being a Trooper, a girl's club similar to the Girl Scouts. If there was a badge to be earned, she earned it. She has a weakness for Goodwill stores, making jammies out of hold sheets and sniffing out a good bargain. This new job is making her want to branch out-this is going to be her year!
And I'm absolutely positively ditching my virginity before this year is over, so that;'' be a great big first to check off my life.
Imagine her surprise (jaw dropping to the floor!) when she sees designated kisser at work. Turns out he's Rhys Dalton, the general manager of the casino. Since she's so sophisticated and worldly, she totally makes a fool out of herself when she's in the same room with him.
"I'm so getting fired. I work in human resources and I propositioned the general manager."
Rhys is not exactly immune to Lydia's weird charms. She's been on his mind since he first saw her in that bar. Every encounter since then has just made him a little more obsessed with her.
This girl makes me feel something. Irritation mostly, because I'm thinking about her instead of this meeting.
There might be tons of chemistry between them, but Rhys isn't going to let his libido rule his head.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. So Lydia comes up with a master plan. This ones a doozy!
There lots of high jinks and witty banter and badge awarding. (I'm still waiting for the "butt stuff' badge award!) Good Girl is hysterical and sexy and damn good fun!
I'll hold onto my good girl forever.
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EXCERPT
He pulls me to my feet and he kisses me and he tastes like me and it's dirty and shocking and sorta oddly thrilling and primal. He unsnaps my bra. The straps slip down my arms until it falls to the floor and then I'm naked. I'm naked with Rhys. This is the best day of my life. Except he's not naked.
"You're still dressed. Am I supposed to"—I gesture to his shirt—"am I supposed to or are you supposed to? Or do you like to keep your clothes on when you have sex?"
He laughs, his eyes dancing in amusement as he unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off. "No, I'm not going to fuck you with my clothes on, Lydia."
“Oh, thank goodness. I've really been wanting to see you naked. For a long time. Like weeks. Since the bar. The first time at the bar, not the second time. Can I take off your pants?" My fingers hover at his waistband, poised to unbutton and unzip but needing the nudge of permission.
"Please," he says and then my fingers are in motion, unbuckling, unbuttoning, unzipping. It's harder to do this in reverse, removing someone else's pants instead of your own, but I manage. I'd manage even if it was a thousand-piece puzzle instead of just a zipper and a button because I want his pants off pretty badly.
When I've got the pants undone they drop to the floor and then the only thing separating me from sex is a pair of briefs, so I make short work of those.
He's beautiful. Head to toe. I could spend all night looking at him, all month, forever. But I don't have forever or even all night since Rhys is worried about his schedule so I take in as much as I can as fast as I can. Because oh, holy crap, I know what Rhys Dalton looks like naked. The smattering of hair across his chest. His toned abs and flat stomach and the trail of hair from his belly button to his cock. The birthmark on his left hip and the definition of the lines that form on his abs. I send a silent prayer to baby Jesus that I'll get a good look at his butt before this is over because I need to know exactly what it looks like under those suit pants. Then too soon, he's moving me onto the bed because this is it. This is the sex.
About the Author
Jana Aston likes cats, big coffee cups and books about billionaires who deflower virgins. She wrote her debut novel while fielding customer service calls about electrical bills, and she's ever grateful for the fictional gynecologist in Wrong that readers embraced so much she was able to make working in her pajamas a reality. Jana’s novels have appeared on the NYT, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestseller lists, some multiple times. She likes multiples.
Connect w/ Jana
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