Release Blitz, Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway:
Pumpkin Spice and Chill by F.A. Ray
Boyfriend Café, Book 2
“Tie me up. Make me yours.”
Albert
Accidents don’t happen to me. I eliminate random chance with surgical precision, whether that’s in my role as the manager of the Boyfriend Café or my role in the bedroom.
Having an earnest, soft-eyed stranger show up one day is not part of my plans.
The university is sniffing around the café, and David says he wants to help hold them off. But why should I trust someone I’ve just met, someone who’s acting on pure intuition, someone who isn’t part of the road map?
David is smart, kind and earnest. When he looks at me with those big, soft eyes, it makes me want to discard all my careful calculations. But I don’t do spontaneous. My wealthy parents groomed me to be a perfect CEO, cold and calculating. So why do I want to throw out the rules for him?
David
I’ve heard rumors of a Boyfriend Café on campus that’s staffed by a bunch of queer students. And I’ve also heard that the university is breathing down their necks, threatening to shut them down.
I know I’m still pursuing my law degree, but I’m sure I can help – if they’ll just let me. Unfortunately, Albert literally slams his door in my face when I try.
I can’t bring myself to give up, no matter how ardently Albert wants to shut me out. This guy has major control issues, which really shouldn’t be a turn on, but here I am trying to get closer to Tall, Dark and Handsome despite every instinct telling me he has a closet full of ropes and handcuffs somewhere.
I’m supposed to be thinking about how to help him save the café, not what kinds of crazy toys he has stashed in his bedroom. Now if I could just stop imagining him in sexy leather gloves and me on my knees…
Pumpkin Spice and Chill is an MM grumpy/sunshine romance with a secret billionaire, a kind-hearted nerd, a closet full of “creative” toys, and spicy open door scenes. CWs available at linktr.ee/faraywrites.
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“Oh my God, you didn’t,” Quinn says.
I hunch over and cradle my head in my hands. She settles beside me on my bed, instantly rubbing soothing circles against my back.
“You little slut,” she says, sounding for all the world like a proud parent and not a friend admonishing my bad life choices.
“Quinn, please,” I groan. “I called you for moral support.”
“Oh, I support this, all right. I support it so freaking much. You needed this, David.”
She isn’t wrong, and that’s kind of the worst part. I did need it. I didn’t even realize it until Albert’s mouth was on me. I almost shot down his throat the second he had me between his lips, months of pent-up horny frustration rushing to the surface all at once. Thank God I lasted a little longer than that. Otherwise, he might hate me even more than he already does.
“Stay right here,” Quinn says. “I’m going to get you some tea. You look like you need it.”
“What, do you work at the Boyfriend Café now?”
“I wish. But hey, they’ve taught me a thing or two, okay? Just stay. I’ll be right back.”
I don’t move as she rises from my tiny twin bed and leaves my room. Quinn returns with a mug of tea and shuts the door behind her. She offers me the mug, and I cradle it in my hands, breathing in the scent of something floral.
“It was the only one without caffeine,” she says. “I figured you don’t want to be up all night when you’re probably exhausted from all that exercise you just got, eh?”
“Quinn,” I groan.
“What? Come on. You have to let me give you a little shit. I can’t believe you actually hooked up with him. Didn’t you say he hates you?”
“I thought he did,” I say. “I mean, he might still hate me, actually. It’s hard to tell.”
“Was it a hate fuck, then? That’s so hot.”
“No, it wasn’t like that. Though he did…”
She leans forward. “What? Oh, come on. You cannot start that sentence and refuse to finish it.”
Heat flushes into my cheeks. I raise the mug to my lips and take a sip to try to hide my reaction. Whatever Quinn found is fruity and sweet and light. It feels good going down my sore throat.
Sore from how hard he fucked it.
Don’t think about that, don’t think about that, do not think about that.
I clear my throat. “He, um, he really … liked holding me down.”
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About the Author:
F.A. Ray started writing as a child and never really stopped. They enjoy rock climbing and hiking in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, where they live with their partner and cat.
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