Finding the Best Man

By Valentine Glass

Shawn returns home from his bachelor party with a surprise confession: he wagered and lost Ellen in a game of poker to his best man. Ellen, tired of a safe sex life, turns the tables on her fiance and gets exactly what she wanted but would never have said.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Valentine Glass
• Release date: Jan 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310774683

Valentine Glass

Valentine Glass is a feminist smut peddler living on the East Coast on the United States. Yes, her name is actually Valentine because she was born in the middle of February and her parents clearly never loved her. When not contributing to the delinquency of adults, she sorts books in basements and takes long strolls where she gets very lost. She can be reached on Twitter @glassvalentine.

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Copyright © 2015 Valentine Glass All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

ISBN-13: 9781234567890

ISBN-10: 1477123456

Cover design by: Valentine Glass

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

Printed in the United States of America

Finding the Best Man

Shawn pushes open our bedroom door with an embarrassed creak. I wake before he gets out a timid Honey? I don't think I've ever heard him be meek with anything. I don't appreciate tenderness at three in the morning.

I sit up, gravity sliding the lacy spaghetti straps of my pajama top down my shoulders. Usually, I sleep in one of Shawn's old t-shirts, but I had been looking forward to my fiancé waking me. I craved what I would do to him after he woke me. I could not drift off to sleep without fingering myself as I imagined the likeliest outcomes.

I blearily rub the sleep from my eyes in the dimness. My fiancé smells of secondhand cigar smoke and a brew of perfumes from his bachelor party, but it would be enticing foreplay to shower him fresh before sullying him anew.

My eyes fix on a shape behind Shawn, taller, broader, and darker. I hike the bedsheets to my chest and casually fail to toss off the line, I didn't know you'd be bringing company, love.

It's Jackson, he whispers as though still scared he might wake me. 

Obviously, I say with a smile. I didn't think you'd let a tall, dark, handsome stranger follow you.

I would recognize Shawn's presumptive best man anywhere. Jackson is a sort of Chris Rock by way of Idris Elba, charming and sexy until he opens his mouth to share some goofy observation. "You'll have to forgive me