Title: Over Exposed (Salon Games #3)
Author: Stephanie Julian
Release Date: July 1st, 2014
When the cameras are off, the real action begins.
Greg Hicks is a Hollywood power player. For years he’s enjoyed the perks that come with being a top director and producer: the influence, the wealth…the women. But none of his many conquests have ever possessed the incredible sensuality of the young woman he once watched lose all inhibition in front of his camera.
Sabrina Rodriquez’s life is far from a Hollywood dream. Refusing to make the same mistakes as her unlucky-in-love mother, she’s focused on her first real job and avoiding all distractions, especially those of the male variety. Yet a man as compelling as Greg is difficult to ignore. And the desires he awakens are even harder to quench.
While a winter storm rages, a night at Haven Retreat leaves Sabrina’s and Greg’s temperatures rising. As Greg introduces Sabrina to the pleasures of voyeurism and exhibition, she unleashes his most decadent passions—and his creativity. But having Sabrina as a muse isn’t enough. He wants her to take a starring role in his bed…and in his heart.
Greg Hicks is a Hollywood power player. For years he’s enjoyed the perks that come with being a top director and producer: the influence, the wealth…the women. But none of his many conquests have ever possessed the incredible sensuality of the young woman he once watched lose all inhibition in front of his camera.
Sabrina Rodriquez’s life is far from a Hollywood dream. Refusing to make the same mistakes as her unlucky-in-love mother, she’s focused on her first real job and avoiding all distractions, especially those of the male variety. Yet a man as compelling as Greg is difficult to ignore. And the desires he awakens are even harder to quench.
While a winter storm rages, a night at Haven Retreat leaves Sabrina’s and Greg’s temperatures rising. As Greg introduces Sabrina to the pleasures of voyeurism and exhibition, she unleashes his most decadent passions—and his creativity. But having Sabrina as a muse isn’t enough. He wants her to take a starring role in his bed…and in his heart.
Available For Purchase:
The Salon Games Series by Stephanie Julian:
By Private Invitation (Salon Games #1):
No Reservations (Salon Games #2)
He took two steps to the door and pulled it open. She’d been heading back down the hallway and she turned sharply, looking over her shoulder with wide brown eyes. Dark golden hair fell down her back in waves he wanted to sink his fingers into and rub against his skin. The top of her head barely reached his chin and she had curves to rival his classic ’65 Corvette. In all the right places.
She wasn’t an anorexic stick with no breasts and hip bones sharp enough to take out an eye. The girl had tits and ass and hips and—
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted you to know I was . . . here.”
Shit, he’d been staring. And if the arch in her eyebrows was any indication, she’d caught him at it.
Another girl might’ve gone in for the kill. Fluttered her lashes, let her eyes narrow to slits as she smiled up at him. Sidle up to him, rub up against him, and offer him . . . whatever he wanted.
Sabrina just continued to stare up at him.
“Wasn’t sleeping. On the phone.”
Now her eyes narrowed and she checked him out from head to toe. And not in a good way.
He probably looked like shit.
He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. He wore a pair of holey jeans that were almost twenty years old. And his Avenged Sevenfold T-shirt had been new when the band first started playing gigs in the late ’90s.
The girl standing in front of him probably hadn’t been born at the time. And that was only a slight exaggeration.
Shit.
“Are you okay, Mr. Hicks?”
He straightened, realizing he’d been slouched against the doorjamb. “Yeah. Fine.”
Her head tilted and her hair spilled over one shoulder, the ends brushing against the curve of a breast. He’d seen that breast covered in nothing more than satin and lace several months ago. And because he was a total dick, he kept one of those photos locked away on his phone.
Today, she wore a thick, deep-purple sweater that covered her from neck to waist but still couldn’t hide those luscious curves. They were standing close enough that he could have reached out and touched her. Cupped his hand under her breast and felt the weight of it.
“Okay.” She pasted on a smile he recognized as Pleasant Employee No. 1. “I’m Sabrina Rodriquez. I don’t know if you remember me—”
“I remember you, Sabrina.”
Those beautiful eyes widened and her lips parted but no sound emerged.
He wanted to kiss the shock off that mouth, had to hold himself steady before he curved a hand around her neck and brought her flat up against him.
“Oh.” The shock started to wear off as she processed what he’d said. And tried to figure out any hidden meaning behind his words.
A flush crept into her cheeks, making her even more beautiful than she’d been a second ago, and he watched her remember exactly what she’d been wearing at the time.
“Oh. Okay. That’s . . . great. That’s . . .” She took another breath and mustered another smile. “Tyler told me you’re working so I’ll make sure I’m not in your way. If you need anything, just let me know.”
Yeah, sure, honey. I want you in my bed. How about that?
About Stephanie Julian:
I'm a reformed reporter who enjoys making up stories much more than writing about real life.In sixth grade, I found my mother's stash of romance novels hidden under her bed and realized they were much more interesting than the books in the school library. I devoured Rosemary Rogers, Bertrice Small and, most especially, Kathleen Woodiwiss.
In college, I majored in English and continued to expand my favorites list. Shakespeare, the Canterbury Tales, the Bronte sisters, Mary Shelley. Then I graduated and discovered there wasn't much I could do with an English degree.
That's when I found out they would pay me to write for a living at a newspaper. Want to learn how to write tight and clean? Work for a daily local and condense a three-hour meeting with an angry mob of residents upset about a sewer system overhaul into 15 inches in 20 minutes.
After my sons were born, I freelanced, working at home in my drafty attic office, and developed a two-book-a-day Harlequin habit that turned into a writing habit. My first attempts at romance were firmly rooted in the Harlequin tradition and I sold my first two romances to Avalon Books under the name Stephanie Scott.
But writing sweet romances was not what I'd had in mind. I wanted to write books where people actually got to have sex. I contracted my first erotic romance to Ellora's Cave and never looked back.
I write sexy series that combine heat with heart. Four are linked by Etruscan Magic: Magical Seduction, Lucani Lovers, Forgotten Goddesses and Darkly Enchanted. I also write the silly-funny, super-sexy Lovers on the Fringe series and the straight contemporary DeMarco Investigations series. I'm also writing the serial menage, INDECENT.
BY PRIVATE INVITATION, NO RESERVATIONS and OVER EXPOSED comprise the contemporary erotic romance series, Salon Games.
I'm happily married to a Springsteen fanatic and I'm the mother of two sons who introduced me to the joys of Slipknot, Warped Tour and never-ending headaches.
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