Rating The Prince: Ex Rated Series, #1

By Jordyn LeFay

It all started with a sex blog.

You know, a basic kiss & tell site, where we rated how good (or not) guys were in bed.

Hot guys.

Powerful guys.

Guys who could take our multi-million dollar blog and shut it down.

The site was supposed to remain anonymous… a way to vent our frustrations at being screwed, then screwed over. Last thing I would have wanted was for the entire world to know I'd had multiple orgasms with the Crowned Prince of Wellington. And although I knew that we could never be, I fell for him and the whole impossible happy-ever-after fairy tale.

But I buried the memories because is the real world fairy-tales and sex don't mix. So, imagine my shock three years later at finding Prince Anthony standing in the pouring rain outside my door.

Still hot.

Still unattainable.

Still pissed as hell.

But he's not here for revenge exactly...

He's here to even the score.
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Welcome to Ex-Rated. What if you could go back in time...would you? That's what these four twenty-something friends have to decide. A one night do-over with the one that got away, or the one that never should have happened? A single chance to go from merely okay, to multiple orgasms? Would history repeat or be forever changed? When sleeping with these high-profile men had already blown their worlds apart, could they risk losing it all to up the score?

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Red Check Press
• Release date: Mar 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201056384

Jordyn LeFay

Jordyn LeFay is a full time novelist who keeps busy writing, and wrangling a 30 pound leopard she calls Kitty.   Jordyn spends her days writing stories that sizzle, and her nights researching them.   She lives in the Northeast with her handsome husband, her cutie-patootie son...and her overly active imagination.   Favorite quote: "Well-behaved women rarely make history."

Book preview

Chapter One

Courtney

The worst part of moving is unpacking all my stuff and trying to put it all back to rights. I feel like I’ve been unpacking for a year instead of just the past three days. I’m finally down to the last box though, so it’s almost time to relax. For me, that means a hot bath in the deep tub that sold me on this place to begin with.

I can’t help but smile as I go through the contents of this final box. It’s full of memories. There are pictures of me with my friends in college, old notebooks where my first attempts at stories were written...and at the very bottom, a notebook that kills my happy reminiscence.

My journal. The one where I wrote, in detail, about my relationship with him. I couldn’t tell any of my best friends who I was seeing, and because I had to tell someone, I told a book that couldn’t tell anyone my secrets.

Flipping through the pages, I read about how we met and the sweet things he told me. Things that all ended up being lies, but at the time, no one had ever said things like that to me. I ate up every word, and even now, years later, they still make my heart twist in my chest.

Even though I know I shouldn’t, I carry the journal into the bathroom with me and set it down on the small table I bought to put beside the tub and start the water. Once it’s where I want it, I grab the cup of bath soak I bought at a shop close to my old apartment and instead of one scoop, I drop in two, needing the extra bubbles tonight.

The scent of orange dreamsicles fills the room while I undress and step into the tub. The heat instantly starts relaxing my muscles, and the bubbles feel like silk against my skin. I lie back, making myself comfortable, then grab the journal off the table and flip through the pages until I find my favorite entry.

Anthony was my first in so many ways; first guy I let touch me, first guy I went down on... and of course, first guy I had sex with. He’s also the first and only guy I had an affair with and didn’t tell any of my friends. They didn’t know who he was until our website got hacked and all our conquests got outed.

My first time wasn’t great, and it was the one I posted about on the blog, but things definitely improved the longer our relationship went on. In fact, my favorite entry in my journal is from one of our last meetups.

Reading about the way his hands on my body felt has the water in my bath feeling almost too warm. He was always so gentle with me. Anthony treated me like a princess, which was fitting since he’s a real-life prince. Every time he put his hands on me, I felt like he was worshipping me.

In the journal entry, his hands slide down from my shoulders to my breasts. My own hand follows the same path, stopping to lightly tweak my nipple. I can almost imagine it’s one of his hands instead of mine, and it makes the feeling more intense. I read through the rest of the journal entry and it makes me want to relive the pleasure again. He’s not here with me, but that doesn’t stop me from taking care of myself, does