You know how there are those authors who’s new releases you mark on your calendar because you know you’ll love it? For me, Cari Quinn is one of those authors.
This book hit all the right notes for me. Cari Quinn delivers consistent, good writing, the characters are interesting the plot is solid, but PERSONAL RESEARCH is more than the sum of its parts; it’s one of those rare books that had me so rooting for the characters that I’d read it all over again just for that, aww, moment. PERSONAL RESEARCH is the perfect blend of sexy, sweet and witty.
Elena Thomas works in an office by day and is an erotic romance writer by night—or whenever she finds a few minutes. However, due to circumstances beyond her control, she’s only writing about sex; first hand experience is a memory. It’s no wonder the sexy new IT guy catches her eye.
Nunzio McGinty notices Elena right away and when he reads the story she accidently printed, he’s even more intrigued by the quiet secretary with an obvious steamy side.
When the two work late at night, sparks fly and Elena has a new source of inspiration. But does Nunzio want her because he thinks she’s easy or is there something more simmering between them
Briefs are Elena Thomas’s life, whether they’re legal at her day job or on the men in the erotic novels she writes. She’s just fine with saving her imagination for her books until temptation appears in the form of Nunzio, the smokin’-hot office IT guy. When he discovers one of her scorching books shooting out of the printer, Elena’s not sure if he wants her because she’s inventive or because he thinks she’s desperate. That doesn’t stop her from taking advantage of his “services”.
On her desk. On the copier. And, oh yeah—in her boss’s chair.
Nunzio’s shocked to learn Elena’s wall-hugging persona hides a wildcat of a woman with delicious fantasies and an enticing wit. She’s exactly what he’s been looking for in an adventurous lover—and girlfriend. He knows she enjoys their sexual research. Now he just has to convince her that sizzling sex is only the first chapter of their blazing-hot romance.
Elena swallowed hard, her fingers poised over the keys. Already her panties were damp. She’d gotten too involved with these particular characters. Sometimes the line between fiction and real life blurred. Now that Victoria and Franz were about to let their feelings explode, she felt as if she were on the verge of an explosion too. Something about the heat of their need for each other. The rawness of their emotions.
The untamed lust.
Her furtive gaze flew back to the empty doorway. All clear. Time to sex.
She typed fast, letting the words pour out of her through her fingertips. This was the part of writing she enjoyed most. Building up to the actual sex gave her a nice buzz of anticipation, but the real fun came when the characters did. The rest was just foreplay and afterglow.
Halfway through the scene, right about when Franz had backed Victoria up into a dingy coat closet with little more than his thrusting hips, Elena started to squirm. Only this time, it wasn’t just because the drip between her legs had become a miniature tidal wave. She’d made the mistake of looking up while she thought through what was happening to her characters, her gaze naturally drifting to the wall across the department from her office. Right where the printer was. Since the office only had one, it broke down way too often.
Which meant it needed service—and service meant him.
Her eyelid twitched and she gripped her temple, willing the damn thing to stop. The newest IT guy shouldn’t inspire twitching or anything else. But even from across the room, his dark gaze burned into hers. And burning—unless it was on the page—was not what she needed at the moment. She was in the middle of a scene and she wanted to finish it now, or else she’d have to wait until she got home tonight. Work was piling up in her inbox and even a lax employee like herself had conscience enough to feel guilty that she wasn’t working. Again. But if she didn’t turn in another story to her editor at the small press she wrote for before the end of the month, she wouldn’t receive royalties for another two quarters. That couldn’t happen. Her washing machine had broken just this morning, and with the panties she churned through writing erotic romance, she needed a working washer.
She also needed a new vibrator, because hers ate up batteries faster than she could buy them.
How a woman suffered for her art.
The IT guy glanced her way again—whose idea had it been to station the printer directly across the department from her doorway anyway?—and her hand slipped across the keyboard as she forced herself to meet his gaze. She couldn’t exactly call herself confident and outgoing, but she also wasn’t a complete wall-hugger. Even so, he had killer eyes and she didn’t feel equipped to return any sexual volleys he lobbed her way in her current weakened state.
A prickle of heat zinged up the back of her neck and she shivered before breaking eye contact. His eyes weren’t his only amazing feature. Rock-cut cheekbones, a firm jaw and distractingly full lips made for long, slow kisses also snagged her attention. And his hands… God, they looked so big and capable, with wide thumbs that made her throat tighten.
Thumbs like that would know how to caress a woman’s nipples. Or maybe she’d suck one of them while she straddled his lap and rubbed against his cock.
A pop-up window whizzed by on her screen, interrupting her reverie. What the hell?
Then she heard the telltale sound of the printer.
Her head jerked toward the noise so fast her neck cracked. Well, look at that. The printer was working. Score one for Tall, Dark and Sinful. Pages were spitting out so fast the tray overflowed and half of them ended up on the floor. But never fear, the object of her fantasies was bending over to collect them.
What a nice guy. And now he was reading—
That finally snapped her out of her stupor. “Wait, wait!” Elena shoved out of her chair and skidded around her desk, praying she didn’t snap a heel during her flight. Her vision hazed as she rushed toward the man in question but she still saw his lips tilt upward as he shifted through the sheaf of papers.
Dear God, he was reading her writing—her extremely provocative writing.
And he was smiling.