Gunnar is a Bad, Bad Man (Nicola #1/9)

By Lotte Larsen

My dad taught me to pick locks so, of course, I help my hot Swedish neighbour Gunnar when he loses his key.
He invites me to his place for a thank you lunch. After little misunderstanding that leaves me handcuffed to his radiator, he tells me he fantasizes about being beaten bloody with a belt. Too sick for my taste. But there's no harm in sampling the smorgasbord of kinky games he offers in return, right?
Wrong. This big sexy spy has a hidden agenda that is going get me into more trouble than I can imagine.
.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lotte Larsen
• Release date: Aug 18, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310937002

Lotte Larsen

Lotte Larsen is a Swedish-Canadian who lives in Toronto, Ontario. She hopes you have as much fun reading her smutty little pulps as she has writing them.

Book preview

HotSwedishMen: Nicola #1/9

GUNNAR IS A BAD, BAD MAN

Lotte Larsen

Copyright © Lotte Larsen, 2015

Cover design copyright © Lotte Larsen, 2015

This cover was designed using Gimp 2.8

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Table of Contents

One: Locked Out

Two: Lunch

Three: Hallway

Four: Foyer

Five: Bedroom

Six: Living Room

Seven: Laundry

Eight: Living Room

Nine: The Transcripts

Ten: The Flit

Eleven: Coffee Shop

One: Locked Out

I'm not the type to go after the boy next door but my new neighbour Gunnar was making me reconsider. A big moody Swede with black hair cropped in a military crew cut that left the back of his neck tantalizingly exposed. He was always scowling, looking down at his phone or squinting so I had no idea what colour his eyes were. Very cut. Broad shoulders, great ass and big, big hands. Having learned how to work with lockpicks as a kid, I notice hands and I wanted his mitts all over me. Not a feeling I was use to at all. I've had my share of flings but never on home turf and never with someone who made me aroused by simply looking at him.

What the hell would I do if he touched me?

Pretty damn much anything he wanted and beg him for more.

Great in theory but terrible in practice.

I was keeping it all under control until I came home one night and found Gunnar in the hall, shoulders slumped in defeat, forehead pressed against his apartment door, looking down at his phone like he was expecting a call. It wasn't until I opened my own door that the penny dropped.

Lock yourself out? I asked.

Ya.

He'd mentioned that he did security work—such a lovely vague phrase—so I couldn't help ribbing him. Your place is so secure even you can't get in?

Ya.

Tough luck.

He pushed away from the door and glared at me, truly pissed off now. All I could think of was what he'd look with a smile on his big wide face. Okay, what he'd look like with his shirt off. And smiling. Or something.

I still couldn't see the colour of his eyes.

I don't need an audience, thank you, Nicola.

He was embarrassed as hell to be caught out like this and didn't want to call whoever it was who had a spare set of keys. If he trusted anyone enough to give them a key. Jingling mine