Wednesday, February 17, 2010

First Egg-cerpt from Lynne Roberts

After Hours

Elle Simpson doesn’t deny that the new intern is sexy as hell but he’s also ten years her junior--and she doesn’t date men from the office. Of course, dating isn’t what comes to mind when David Nelson enters a room. When Elle’s boss assigns her to work an important account, she’s thrilled—until David volunteers to help. Working one on one with her desirable new assistant is bound to test the limits of her restraint.
Everything about Elle, from her professional savvy to her hot body, turns David on, but first he has to unravel her mixed signals. After a few late nights alone with Elle in the office, David is at the end of his tether. It was hard enough during the day; keeping his hands off her after hours is proving impossible.

Some men simply walk across a room, but not David.
Elle Simpson watched from her office as the new intern, his hips moving in a predatory roll, strolled to the copier and stood with his back toward her. No, not David.
She felt the color rise in her cheeks as her gaze traced his body, from the dark hair just curling at the nape of his neck, past wide shoulders, to the dangerous-looking narrow hips and an ass made for grabbing. Her body warmed and her inner thighs began to tingle.
David turned, as though he could sense her scrutiny, and flashed a smile that could short-circuit a city. Hell, it certainly did a number on her. Elle swallowed, hiding behind a noncommittal nod, and hoped she gave the impression she was too busy for pleasantries. Damn. She needed to be more careful.
After many years with the company, she’d earned her reputation as a dependable, hardworking, no-nonsense kind of woman. She grimaced. What would her fellow employees think if they knew every time David Nelson walked in the room, Elle’s synapses stopped firing as all the blood left her head to settle between her legs? She shifted on her chair and the friction caused her pussy to ache, reminding her of its neglected state.
Evidently finished with the copier, David gathered his papers and walked back to his cubicle. Elle tilted her head to better watch him walk down the hall. A damn sexy man. Perhaps he’d been born with some sort of exclusive hip design. It would explain the fluidity of movement.
Elle shrugged. One thing was certain—when David walked into a room, or out of it, he had her undivided attention. She didn’t think he was trying to be sexy, or if he was, the effort had become, well...effortless. There was just something in the way those well-oiled hips moved that made her wonder what else they could do.

Thanks for the Egg-cerpt,

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