Natural Enemies by Roan Parrish
Surprise release date: April 17, 2018
Sale: $.99, for one week
Price: $3.99, as of April 25, 2018
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On sale in: ebook and paperback
Pages in print: 150
When opposites attract, love blooms in unexpected places.
Buttoned-up botanist Stefan Albemarle has felt like an outsider his whole life. As a result, he mostly keeps to himself—makes it easier not to notice that no matter how he tries, people think he’s a know-it-all and a snob.
Freewheeling urban gardener Milo Rios has worked hard to get where he is, and he’s passionate about his job at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. He can get along with almost anyone, but no one has ever made him care enough to stick around.
When Stefan and Milo meet on Milo’s tour of the Botanic Garden, it’s hatred at first clash. But hatred quickly turns to lust as Milo shows Stefan how exquisite it can feel to lose the control he’s clung to for so long. As Stefan’s mask begins to slip, Milo sees a deep vulnerability in the prim academic. Once he’s experienced Milo’s world, Stefan can admit that he wants more from life than professional success. If they can work together, Stefan and Milo just might be able to cultivate the future they both yearn for.
Sweat slid down my back and my hands smelled of earth. Stefan was dressed as impeccably as he’d been the last two times I’d seen him: another pair of pressed wool pants, these in light gray with a pale blue check, and a sharp, geometrically patterned navy and red sweater. His full lips looked soft and lush. I swallowed hard, because now I knew firsthand that they felt as soft and lush as they looked.
Stefan’s hands were clasped behind his back, putting his firm chest on display. He looked like he’d never touched dirt in his life. I wanted to get him dirty. No: filthy. Wanted to see him panting and sweating and begging and—
I dragged the toe of my boot on the ground between us. “Hey, listen. The other day. The kiss. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
I snorted. “Really. You shove people you’re making out with into the dirt and run away when you’re fine? Hey, I guess it takes all kinds.”
“No, I just— I apologize. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
That shuttered, formal speech made me want to shake him until the mask of it fell away.
“You didn’t hurt me,” I said, and caught his arm. “Tell me why you ran away. If you wanted me to stop, you could’ve just—”
“I didn’t!” Stefan’s eyes burned into mine, and his nostrils flared. “I didn’t want to stop.”
“Then what? What were you so scared of?”
“I… I was…” Stefan picked another invisible something off his sweater and I had the sudden urge to take his hands in mine so they couldn’t find any more fault. He cleared his throat and when he spoke it was choked. “I was afraid I was going to come.”
All the blood rushed to my groin and I got hard so quickly I felt lightheaded. My groan made Stefan shudder and look away. “Jesus. Would that have been so bad?”
Stefan shrugged. “It’s just been a while.”
“Well, shit, it was a pretty good kiss for someone who’s rusty.”
When his eyes met mine again, they were burning with shy pleasure. “Just pretty good?”
I shrugged and turned away, but I was pretty sure he could see my grin. “Ya know. Not the best I’ve ever had.”
Stefan grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. “I like to be the best at things.”
I slid my arms around his waist. “Yeah, I’m kind of getting that.”
Our mouths met in a pulse of hot sweetness. Stefan tasted of coffee with sugar and his tongue curled around mine in a dark dance. I spun us and pressed him against the wall, dragging our bodies tight together, so close I could feel the pulse of his heart against his chest.
Stefan gasped and fisted my shirt. I pressed kisses to his jaw, and when I sucked on his neck, he shivered.
“Stop, stop, oh god,” he gasped. He pushed me away with straight arms, like we were teenagers dancing awkwardly, and hung his head, breathing heavily.
“Oh fuck, are you gonna come?”
He was visibly hard, his erection pressing obscenely against the beautiful wool of his trousers. He whined and it sent a flush of lust through me.
“I want to watch you come,” I said into his ear. “Fuck, I wanna watch you make a mess all over these fancy clothes.”
About Roan Parrish:
Roan Parrish lives in Philadelphia, where she is gradually attempting to write love stories in every genre.
When not writing, she can usually be found cutting her friends’ hair, meandering through whatever city she’s in while listening to torch songs and melodic death metal, or cooking overly elaborate meals. She loves bonfires, winter beaches, minor chord harmonies, and self-tattooing. One time she may or may not have baked a six-layer chocolate cake and then thrown it out the window in a fit of pique.
Connect with Roan:
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