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You know the story.
Boy meets girl, they fall in love, two kids, white picket fence.
This isn’t that story.
This is more like . . .
Man meets woman. Man sleeps with woman.
Man meets another woman, sleeps with her.
And so on. You get the idea.
I own a small boutique hotel in New Orleans, the Kingston. I’ve seen men do some stupid stuff in the name of the woman they love, or at least the woman they love for the night.
That’s not me. I’m always in control. You’d be surprised how much you can get away with on just good manners and a smile. It’s the only way to keep my secrets safely locked away.
And my smile hides a lot. Until her.
She turns me down flat. Playing hard to get is my favorite game. It’s the thrill of the chase.
Only problem is, I think it’s me that’s getting caught.


Prescott Lane

A brand new standalone novel is now available from Prescott Lane about a sexaholic businessman who, in order to abstain from sex and thus win the woman he is interested in, is forced to go into therapy to beat his addiction. And I have a little sneak peek for you.

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“Let me ask you something,” she says.  “Have you ever been with a woman who’s your equal?”

I open my mouth to say something smooth, but unexpected honesty comes out.  “No, they’re all better than me.”

Something about that makes her whole body soften, and she’s not looking at me like I’m the enemy anymore.  Her cheeks grow pink.  “So what topic are you speaking on?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Just a hint,” she flirts.

“I did offer to help you out, and I seem to remember you . . .”

“I think that offer was more about helping me out of my panties,” she whispers.

“One can always hope.”

She laughs.  “You don’t have a chance, Pierce.”

“Oh, I think I do,” I say, giving her a wink.  “Even if it’s just a little one.”

She laughs.  “Relentless.”

“What I want, I’m willing to work for.”

“I believe the saying is: What you love, you’ll do the work for.  At least that’s what my father always says.”

“He have any other pearls of wisdom?”

Love means risking it all,” she says softly.  “Love is an act of bravery.”

A lump forms in my throat, and it’s abundantly clear that Sutton is a white picket fence woman.  She wants love, a family, a house, the whole shit pot.  This is a big ass red flag.  I should be bolting, but for some reason, I’m still sitting here.

“Are you a risk taker?” she asks.  “Or do you just pretend to play the game and fold under pressure?”

“Sometimes it’s just fun to play the game,” I say.  “Not play for keeps.”

“And that’s why you don’t have a chance,” she says.  “I play to win.”

“I seem to recall you admitting you only date guys for a month,” I say.  “Seems like you’re the one that folds under pressure.”  Her eyes cast down, and in that one gesture, I know some guy has done a number on her.  “Bad relationship?  You got hurt?” I ask.  She just nods.  “Sutton?”

She looks back up at me.  “Look, you just want to have fun, screw around.  That’s fine.  It’s just not me.”

“I’m not looking to use you.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” she asks.

“Why does that matter?”

“Because you’re sitting here hitting on me,” she says.  “You think you can bang some broad at lunch then have me for dinner?”

“It wasn’t at lunch,” I say, chuckling.  “It’s been a few days.”

She rolls her eyes.  “Big difference.”

“How long?” I ask.

“How long, what?”

“How long do I have to abstain from other women before you’ll give me a chance?” I ask.

“Are you serious?  I don’t know.”

Much to my displeasure, Dr. Lorraine flashes in my mind.  “A month?”

“This is crazy,” she says.  “I’m not negotiating entry into my vagina with you.”

I can’t help it and bust out laughing.  “A month and then you play my game, my way?”

She leans into me, her warmth drawing me closer.  “A month and then you play my way?”

A loud voice comes over the speakers.  “Please help me welcome Pierce Kingston to the stage.”

Smiling, I get to my feet and head for the podium, pulling out my phone on the way and sending Sutton a message.

Maybe I’ll see you in a month!

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