"An excellent choice if you're looking for a quick, sexy read."
Reviewed by Maria Munoz
Posted April 1, 2012
Romance Erotica Sensual
Lauren Vaughn is suffering through her sister's coed
bachelorette party. Crystal is marrying the man Lauren was
crazy about, then Lauren made the mistake of introducing them.
Lauren is in the bar for some liquid courage when a sexy
stranger enters the bar with a black handkerchief in
his pocket. Lauren has studied the S & M culture enough to
know that it's a sign for "seeks no-strings affair with sexy
submissive." She's been intrigued by the idea of playing the
submissive but has never had the chance to try it with a
true dominant. Jamie Forman spots Lauren across the room and is instantly
attracted. After their chat in the bar takes a decidedly
sexy turn, Jamie suggests that they continue their
conversation in his room. He's more than happy to give Jamie
an introduction to all the pleasure that comes from truly
submitting. WICKED WEEKEND... the title says it all. Gillian Archer has
written a smart, sexy, erotic novella. The sexual
encounters between Lauren and Jamie, the core of the book,
are well-written and hot. Lauren and Jamie are equally
matched participants in their encounters. Ms. Archer builds
emotional depth through developing the characters'
personalities and back stories, such as Lauren's conflicted
relationship with her sister. WICKED WEEKEND is an
excellent choice if you're looking for a quick, sexy read.
SUMMARY
Why did Lauren Vaughn introduce her sister to the man she
herself was crazy about? Now Lauren is watching the happy
couple at their combined bachelor/bachelorette party—while
Lauren sits all alone at the bar. Until she spots a hot
stranger with the telltale black handkerchief in his pocket:
the signal for "seeks no-strings affair with sexy
submissive." Lauren can't take her eyes off him. So when he
comes over, she kicks her inner good girl to the curb and
follows Jamie Forman to his room, where he makes her scream
with pleasure all night long. But Jamie is a complicated man. He can't handle how
desperately he wants her in his bed—and his life. It's up to
Lauren to teach him how to make all night last forever.
ExcerptA bark of laughter drew her attention across the room. Her
breath stalled in her chest at the sight of perfection.
Standing in profile to her, and wearing a loose black T-
shirt, baggy jeans and Doc Martens, was her fantasy man
come to life. His dark brown hair teasingly hung over his
forehead and moved as he gestured, waving his arms in the
air while he talked to his friends. Lauren bit back a groan
at the sight of his toned but not overly muscular arms. He
was probably
like that all over, too, judging by the way his clothes
hung. She focused in on his ass and wished she could tell
if the lower half matched the upper half. Damn baggy jeans.Then she spotted the black handkerchief hanging from his
left back pocket. Was he… He couldn’t be… Her eyes widened
as she thought about the implications of that little
addition. She knew about the hanky code, just never saw or
noticed anyone flagging before. She tried to remember if
there was a tell for straight or gay. She knew the left
pocket meant top and the black color meant S&M, but was
there a code for straight or gay? With her luck it was the latter. Who was she kidding
anyway? He wouldn’t choose her out of the
bevy of blonde bimbo snowbunnies out tonight. She eyed his
black hanky in longing. What delightful, wicked things
would a man like that want to do? Her gaze continued to rove his hard body as she dreamed
about the possibilities. When she returned to his face, she
discovered he was staring back at her. A slow cocky grin
curved his lips. Oh God. He was every bit as gorgeous as
she thought. And he’d just caught her checking out his ass. She ducked her head and focused on swirling her drink. The
telltale burning in her cheeks meant she was bright red for
the second time that night. Maybe she should take the hint
and go up to her room and sleep. If she kept this up, she
might actually die of mortification by the end of the night. “Is this seat taken?” A smooth masculine voice spoke above
her head. Lauren looked up and right into the eyes of her Mr. Fantasy
Man. How did he…? Why was he…? She looked between him and
the magically empty barstool next to her. “I—I…uh… No, no
one’s sitting there.” “Great.” The stool screeched across the floor as he pulled
it back to sit down next to her. Right next to her. So
close she could feel his body heat on her side. She closed her eyes and tried to calm the dancing, swirling
butterflies in her stomach. “Uh, do you come here often?”
Great. Just great. Mr. Hotness sits next to me and I do my
lounge-lizard impersonation. “No, not really. I can’t ski worth a damn. I’m Jamie by the
way.” He held his hand out to her. “Nice to meet you, Jamie.” She shook his hand and enjoyed
its firm, work-roughened feel. She could easily imagine it
spanking her bare bottom as she lay bent over his knees.
Her thighs clenched at the thought. “And your name is…” She flinched, torn out of her naughty daydream. “L—Lauren
Vaughn.” “Nice to meet you, Lauren.” She nodded and looked down at her drink. God, she was such
a spaz. “Can I have my hand back now?” She jerked her hand away as if she had been burned. Lord
knew her cheeks were. “Sorry.” His lips quirked. “No problem. So do you come here often?”
His eyes danced with mischief.
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