Forever Now (An Erotic Romance)

By T.G. Wells

Jill North, owner and CEO of North-Tech Inc., has developed a unique erotic oriented video game, a game which enables all of your sexual fantasies to come true. It has taken the home video entertainment industry by storm, but despite her success and public accolades, she leads the life of a loaner. She spends her time building her business, with no thought of having a man in her life.

Then, Blaine Thomas storms into her world and awakens her sleeping libido. He's heart stopping beautiful with deep blue, bedroom eyes, but he's a man harboring a secret and with a past shrouded in mystery.

She must decide if she is willing to gamble her heart on this man, a man who has the power to wreck both her soul and her life's work.

Given an ultimatum, Blaine must choose whether to risk a small fortune, for a questionable future with this woman who has seized his heart and taken it hostage.

Passion and desire run high, but is that enough?

An Erotic Romance Novella approx. 24,575 words long.

Intended for mature readers only, 18 and above.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.G. Wells
• Release date: May 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301299218

Book preview

Forever Now

(An Erotic Romance)

By T.G. Wells

Copyright © 2013 T.G. Wells

All Rights Reserved.

Smashwords Edition

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 1

Jill North needed to get laid, but she didn’t have the time, the energy, or the man.

Her older sister, Heather, was twenty-nine minutes late and Jill, pressed for time, was not happy. The oppressive and sticky heat added to her frustration, but a promise was a promise, and a time honored family tradition had to be upheld. There was no one else left to do it, they were alone, both very alone. Sitting in the dirt parking lot, she surveyed the ashen gray, clap board building, through the windshield of her ebony colored Mercedes. A cherry red neon sign stretched across the weather beaten front of the single story structure, proclaiming the name of the thirty-two year old iconic watering hole, The Dock. For twelve straight years, starting on her sister’s twenty-first birthday, they had met at the small bar, nestled beside the Inland Waterway, and celebrated her sister’s birthday, July the third. Their beach front community was always crowded during the summer months but especially so during this holiday weekend, and the parking lot was nearly full already. A favorite haunt of the locals, and also the summer vacationing imports, the beach club included a small stage, where local bands performed easygoing rhythm and blues melodies, what the locals called classic Southern beach music. In a laid back atmosphere, the featured beverage was cold bottled beer, packed in ice, and delivered to the patrons in a galvanized steel bucket.

Jill glanced at her watch again and picked up her cell phone. A conference call with her animators and software engineers, on the West coast, was scheduled to take place in less than three hours, and she needed to be on time and sober for the call. Scrolling down the phone’s lighted screen, she touched Heather’s name.

I know, I know, ten minutes, I’m ten minutes away, her sister said, before Jill could say a word. The coffee shop was a zoo and one of the other barista’s got sick and had to go home. See you in ten, Heather said, ending the call.

***

Jill watched, as her sister maneuvered her black pickup truck to the far end of the parking lot and smoothly slid her athletic frame from the cab. At a very slim five feet eight inches, with straight long blonde hair, and a dark tan, the long legged blonde was already commanding attention from several men in the crowded parking lot, as she scurried toward Jill’s car. Encased in tight blue jean shorts and a form fitting tank top, minus a bra, her small pointed breast rocked up and down with each hurried step. Jill glanced down at her own attire, knee length khaki cargo shorts and a solid black T-shirt, complete with a bra. Conservative, practical, and functional; just like her life, she thought.

You ready to buy the birthday girl her annual drink? Heather said, as Jill stepped from her car.

Let’s do it, Jill said, forcing a smile she did not feel, as she hugged her sister. Happy birthday, she added, as an afterthought.

Do you want to get a table? Jill asked, as they entered the wood paneled club.

Her eyes doing a sweeping survey of the room, Heather said, Let’s sit at the bar.

Trolling are we? Jill asked.

We’re here to have a good time, so let’s have it, Heather said, taking a seat on the wooden bar stool.

Hello, hello, and welcome beautiful ladies, you look like you could use a cold beer; small pail, medium bucket or tub size? the large, smiling bartender said.

We’ll start with a bucket. Oh, and a couple of shots of JD, too, Heather said, tossing a pack of cigarettes onto the bar.

I thought you quit, Jill said, eyeing the half empty pack.

Well you know, stop, start, stop, and start. That’s how it goes.

Do you two cuties want to pay as you go or run a tab? the bartender asked, setting their drinks on the bar.

We’ll pay as we go, Jill said, handing him a black credit card.

No problem, he said, taking the card. Oh, there’s no charge for the shots by the way, compliments of the two gents sitting at the table nearest the restrooms.

That didn’t take long, Jill said, casting a quick glance toward the table.

It never does, Heather said laughing, and rotating around on the bar stool to face their two benefactors. Raising her shot glass into the air and pointing it in their direction, she downed the amber colored whiskey in one gulp. Making eye contact across the room and smiling, she slowly ran her tongue seductively around the rim of the empty glass, before turning back toward the bar. Okay, you want my read on these two guys? she said.

Taking a small sip from her shot glass, Jill said, By all means.

First we have to name them. I’m thinking Surfer and Landlubber.

Do go on, I’m intrigued, Jill said.

Let’s take Surfer first, since he looks like my type. Hair stylishly long and floppy, the cut currently favored by the surfing set, a faded out red T-shirt with no logos spells self-confidence, has no need to dress to impress, and his puka shell necklace lends a nice touch of the sea.

And you think he’s a surfer based on that? Jill said, suddenly enjoying the flirting game.

Wait now, there’s more, Heather said, pulling a beer from the bucket and popping off the cap with a church key. Handing the metal bottle opener to Jill, she said, Deep tan including his feet, now here’s the best part, hands and forearm.

Opening a bottle for herself, Jill said, All right Ms. Sherlock Holmes, I’m waiting.

His knuckles are skinned up and the top of his left arm has a pretty good scrape on it, Heather said, lighting a cigarette. The sand scrubbed the skin away when he tucked and rolled, after a wipeout on his board. He’s the real deal, surfer for sure. Ok, now you do the Landlubber.

Glancing over her shoulder, Jill focused on the well-built man sitting next to the shaggy haired Surfer, her eyes drinking him in and giving him a full body scan. His long inky black hair trailed downward, its