It’s time to reveal the cover of The Girlfriend!
After the cover, stick around for the blurb, an excerpt, and to find out how you can win the e-book version of The Girlfriend!
Unemployed, blacklisted, and pregnant, Sophie Scaife’s life is totally upside down. Her relationship with publishing magnate Neil Elwood is on the rocks. Her best friend’s career is igniting. And Sophie is afraid she’ll make one of the toughest decisions of her life alone…
When a devastating diagnosis forces Neil to return to London, Sophie throws caution to the wind to follow her heart across the Atlantic. Keeping a scorching D/s affair as red-hot in sickness as it was in health is a challenge, even for two lovers as inventive as Sophie and Neil. But Sophie is more than willing to try anything her Sir commands, and their fantasies of control become a welcome refuge from the daily stress of illness.
While Neil’s wealth and privilege make adjusting to her new situation easier, Sophie finds herself rebuilding her life around an uncertain future. And while both of them face the changes between them head-on, they’re all too aware that their happiness could be fleeting—and Sophie could lose Neil forever.
The Girlfriend will be available in paperback and e-book August 20th! Check JennyTrout.com for buy links, and to read the prequel, The Boss, as a pay-what-you-want e-book download!
Enter to win an e-book copy of The Girlfriend in this Rafflecopter giveaway
So, here’s the deal: when I signed bloggers up for the cover reveal, I gave them a choice of either a sweet or a spicy excerpt. But since I’m the author, I can give you both, if I wanna. And that’s what I’m doing. Here’s the sweet one. If you want to read the spicy one, you’ll find it behind a jump at the bottom of the post.
Warning: The following excerpt will probably make you go, “Awwww!”
After a delicious course of vegan plum pudding for dessert, we went back to the drawing room to exchange gifts and have cocktails. We were all happy and relaxed, chatting amicably when Emma, a twinkle in her eyes, said, “Dad, please tell me you made Sophie do the shoe thing.”
“Shoe thing?” I raised an eyebrow.
“There was a tradition my father’s family had when he was a child, and he passed it on to us,” Neil explained. “You left your shoe in the window on Christmas eve, instead of hanging up a stocking by the fireplace.”
“Sophie, you are going to be so confused,” Emma said with a laugh. “There are like twenty-seven Santas in Iceland.”
“Oh no, was I supposed to set out twenty-seven shoes, then?” I teased Neil. “I didn’t even leave out one, the staff here pick everything up the minute you leave it unattended.”
“Not to worry, I did it for you.” He smiled his mysterious half smile and pointed to the tall windows behind the tree.
Rising from the sofa, I went off in the direction he’d pointed. In the corner of the low windowsill, a gorgeous nude-colored Christian Louboutin pump waited with an envelope inside.
I picked up the shoe reverently. It was goddamned beautiful, shiny, and oh, such a sexy tall heel. I slipped one of my own shoes off, took the envelope out of the Loubou, and tried the shoe on immediately. It fit perfectly. I thought of Neil carefully examining my shoes while I had packed. He’d gotten this before we’d left New York.
“What’s in the envelope?” Emma asked, snuggling closer to Michael on the velvet upholstered setee.
I unfolded the paper inside and read the note silently.
My darling Sophie,
The other shoe is waiting for you upstairs. Be sure to pack them when we leave for Paris for New Year’s Eve.
Merry Christmas, and all my love,
“Well, what does it say?” Emma demanded.
I raised my head, beaming, momentarily speechless. “Neil is taking me to Paris for New Year’s.”
“Go Dad!” Emma said, giving him a thumbs up. “Very romantic.”
I went to Neil and leaned down to kiss him briefly. I’d save the utter mauling for when we were alone. “Thank you. You’re wonderful.”
“Speaking of romantic,” Michael said, nudging Emma. “Remember when you said you thought Christmas-themed proposals were romantic?”
Neil’s attention shifted sharply. I looked up, my focus drifting with everyone else’s toward Emma and Michael. You could have heard a pin drop as Michael rose from the couch, then took a knee in front of her.
“Oh my god,” Valerie said softly, her hand flying up to her mouth.
The expression on Neil’s face echoed Valerie’s sentiment, but for the opposite reason. His facial “Oh my god,” was more like, “Oh my god, that bear is eating my loved one.”
“Emma, I am… so in love with you,” Michael said, his voice breaking with emotion. “And I know how important family is to you. So that’s why I wanted them with us when we started our family together. Emma, will you marry me?”
My knees went weak at the adorableness. A tear rolled down Emma’s cheek, and she wiped it away with her knuckle as she nodded frantically, and giggled, “Yes!
Warning: The following excerpt is hot, hot, hot! NSFW, most definitely.
“I want to play a game. I want to draw words on you, and you have to guess what they say.” Sitting up straight, I trailed a finger over his chest.
“I think I understand the rules.” Neil smirked up at me. “What happens if I get them wrong?”
I scooted down his body with a knee on either side of him. When I straddled his thighs and leaned to press my mouth to the side of his torso, the hard ridge of his erection pressed into my belly. Starting at his hipbone, I carefully traced a letter “L” across Neil’s flesh with my tongue.
His breathing sped up a little as I finished the word, and he said, “Let.”
“Very good,” I murmured, switching to the other side. I folded his boxers down a little, and started the next word just above his groin.
“Me,” he guessed, and I nodded my affirmation as I slid down, dragging my hair over his stomach. I lay between his legs and lazily stroked the next word onto his inner thigh.
“Make.” He sounded a little breathless now.
Tugging his boxers down his thighs, I drew the next word on his stomach, swirling my tongue through the narrow line of hair that bisected it. It was difficult work avoiding his cock; fully erect, it reached to just above his navel. My chin brushed the tip as I carefully spelled the next word, “You.” It took Neil two tries, but he guessed it and swallowed thickly as I moved down, hovering my mouth over his penis.
I only got to the O in “come,” written carefully along the underside of his shaft, before he groaned and lifted his hips.
“Yes, Sophie,” he rasped, his hands still above his head. He could have moved them at any time; the belt was only cinched around his wrists, and nothing physically restrained him from lowering his arms. He was choosing to play along, and something wicked in me responded to that.
I wasn’t a Dominant. And Neil wasn’t a submissive. We would probably never truly “switch.” At the moment, though, I appreciated that he trusted me enough to let me do this.
Licking a slow path up his cock from the base to the head, I moaned low in my throat. His harsh breathing stuttered, and he shifted beneath me. I traced the point of my tongue over the seam between his foreskin and glans then followed it up to the slit in the tip, teasing him just a bit before sucking the whole head into my mouth.
He made an undecipherable sound, and I grinned to myself, taking him in one hand. I sat up and, as primly and daintily as possible, spat a huge glob of saliva onto his cock.
His eyes widened at the sight, and I gave him a lazy smile and lots of eye contact as I stroked the wetness down his shaft. When I lowered my head again, I never broke my gaze from his, preferring to hold him as a captive audience while I licked and sucked the hard flesh my pumping fist didn’t cover.
I didn’t have to work long. My slow, steady strokes, sucking mouth, and wriggling tongue brought him to the edge quicker than usual. Probably because he was so out of his element, out of control. Gasping and writhing, he groaned, “Sophie, I’m— ” and he didn’t finish his sentence as his cock jerked in my hand and his cum hit the back of my throat. I let a little dribble out of my mouth, onto my fingers, still squeezing and stroking him as he pulsed, but I raised my head before he could reach the point of oversensitivity. I sat back on my heels and delicately wiped the corners of my mouth with my ring finger. I made a satisfied noise after I swallowed, smirking down at him all the while.
Now he wasn’t content to play along with my fake restraints. He pulled his wrists apart to loosen the belt then slipped his hands free. Before I could even think to protest, he’d hauled me up his body and rolled me onto my back, pinning me. One hand moved down my stomach, and I froze.
“I will go utterly mad if I can’t make you come,” he groaned against my neck, his tongue fluttering over the pulse point there.
Well, what was I going to do? Risk his sanity?