Title: The Paris Apartment
Author: Sophia Karlson
Genre: Erotic Romance
Cover Designer: Regina Wamba
Editor: Leanne Rabesa, Isolde Dittrich
Hosted by: Lady Amberâs PR
James Sinclair, a successful trader, keeps his busy life uncomplicated. Work is about all he has time for. Imagine his surprise when he returns to his Paris apartment to find his little sisterâs best friend, Mila Johnson, in his bed.
One night of fooling around opens a Pandoraâs box which Mila just wants to pry open wider, whereas James just wants to keep the lid on tight. Mila is sweet and innocent and no way is he going to expose her to the real James Sinclair.
As his relationship status changes to complicated, James struggles to keep control over his past and his heart. Milaâs teenage fantasy is still larger than life, but James swings between hot and cold. Now that she has him between the sheets, Mila will do anything to keep him there.
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Sophia Karlson has lived in France, Germany, Tanzania, Madagascar (not the movie, the country) and now finds herself in Toronto, Canada. As a teenager, she devoured romances with far-flung settings, loving to travel through books. After school, her itchy feet took her around the world, but now she doesn't get much further than the school run and the daily walk with her two demanding beagles. She writes contemporary and erotic romance with the aim of taking readers on a journey of their own.
Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/sophiakarlson/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/SophiaKarlson
Website - www.sophiakarlson.com
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James turned on the shower and paused. Little Mila Johnson. She was the last woman heâd expected to find in his bed.
Sheâd changed a lot. The last time heâd seen her she was a dangle of limbs, out of proportion with a body that had been so skinny nothing had predicted the curves she ruled now.
Now her firm breasts had jutted up to him, their rosy tips hardening with each second heâd stared at her. There was something irresistible in a rising blush on a womanâs cheeks when she was perused, openly and with sexual interest. It got him going every time.
And then there were those lipsâ¦ heâd have to keep himself in check. That mouth was thoroughly fuckable. And thoroughly kissable.
He pulled his shirt off and tossed it into the laundry basket, then tugged off his shoes and socks. His fingers quivered slightly as he reached for his belt, which he unbuckled slowly, drawing out the moment in which he could take himself in hand. His cock was straining against his jocks, harder than it had been in months.
That a pair of white cotton panties could pull him out of his slump was a wonder. Had he known he would have investigated the matter soonerâ¦ but surely it was more than that? Maybe it was the look in her eyes, the way sheâd pulled her legs up when heâd scrutinized her, closing up, hugging her pillow so tightly, hiding her body from him. That was new. Women usually flaunted everything they had.
He didnât know what it was.
His trousers and jocks dropped to the floor and he groaned in relief as he gathered his sack and stroked himself in long, languid pulls.
Fuck, sheâd feel good right now. His fatigue from earlier was long gone. The notion of burrowing himself in Milaâs tight, moist velvet would be the perfect release of months of underlying tension, tension heâd consciously chosen to ignore.