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Jumping Bones



Have you ever met a man and the instant attraction was so fierce, you just want to jump bones on him at the first very sight?

Well, I have. My name is Abigail Freeman, and I’m an interior designer by trade. The man I’m talking about is my client. Brent Darwood, a.k.a Mr. Rich, and one of the most eligible bachelors in Miami. He’s a real estate mogul, rumored to be very elusive, a royal PITA, and famous for his brooding demeanor. He hired my company to redecorate his home office, and as a senior associate in the firm, I was sent to accommodate Mr. Darwood’s whim.

The moment I laid eyes on him, my heart started to pound hard and feverish heat came rushing to my head. Before everything else fully registered into my mind, my body responded to my newfound object of desire with a sheer wantonness that I had never experienced before. My nipples tightened. My pussy clenched. I was wet with need. I’m not a nymphomaniac, mind you. Usually, it takes some good foreplay to get me in the groove, but this man stirred this kind of fire in me simply by looking at me. I don’t know how he did it, but he made my blood boil.

His eyes settled on me long before he acknowledged my presence in the room. He sat behind his antique Louis the VX desk, scrutinizing me with his hawk-like eyes. I don’t know if he felt the same way I did, but I saw fire burning in his eyes too. Even without a word spoken, I just knew the chemistry between us raged like wildfire. Absurd really, since we were strangers. But at the same time, what happened between us felt so right.

“Miss Freeman.” Darwood rose from his seat to welcome me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. I admire your works at the Plaza. They are simply magnificent.” His voice was seductively throaty and articulate, very cultured, tinged with some unidentified European accent. Very sexy. His tall and brawny posture towered against me as I straightened myself and shook his hand.

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