ABBY GREEN - Getting Off

Caitlin Ryan has never had an orgasm—and she wants one! So does she

(1) Date lots of Mr. Nice-but-Wrongs and keep faking and hoping?

(2) Do a little DIY with a battery-operated friend and a lot of imagination?

(3) Go to NYC and have a wild night with a totally hot stranger?

When (1) and (2) don’t work, Caitlin goes for (3). But even with motorbike-riding sex god Liam, old habits die hard, and yet again she has to fake it. Only he notices—and is not happy! Could things get any worse? Well, yes, when Liam becomes her new boss. But when Caitlin reveals that she’s never climaxed, Liam rises to the challenge, offering a weekend of hot sex with the only goal her pleasure. Will letting him take control work? Caitlin can’t resist finding out….

This is for all the smart, beautiful, amazing Cosmo girls everywhere. As a friend of mine used to always say: the world is your lobster.

Dear Reader,

I’ve always been a compulsive magazine buyer, and still am. I can distinctly remember purchasing my first Cosmopolitan magazine and feeling as if “This is it! I’m a grown-up now.” My dedication to Cosmopolitan went as far as India, where I was backpacking as a wide-eyed culture-shocked twenty-two-year-old. My friend and I were on a tight budget, but as soon as I saw an import copy of Cosmopolitan, I had to have it. Even if it did cost the equivalent of a week’s dinners, and even though it was months out of date. I still have the photographic evidence!

I loved reading about deliciously illicit things like favorite sex positions—when I hadn’t even French-kissed yet! And then, after I’d finally French-kissed and more, getting answers to those niggling doubts we all had, like: Is it normal not to orgasm, and will he know?

My heroine, Caitlin, is a Cosmo girl through and through, fiercely independent and looking forward to the future and all the adventures to come. Yet she has her insecurities like everyone else, and unfortunately for her, she happens to tangle with a hero who sees right through those insecurities straight off the bat.

Liam, my hero, is straight out of every fantasy I’ve ever had of an American Boy. Growing up in Ireland, American men were the ultimate sexy guys, our fantasies fed by a constant diet of films, TV and music. They were, and still are, unbearably cool and confident with their ripped bodies and white smiles and that lazy accent that just curls around your nerves and sets them alight. Think Matthew McConnaughy and Bradley Cooper. I know I did when I wrote this.

I hope you enjoy reading Caitlin and Liam’s story as much as I did writing it, and here’s to many more years of Cosmopolitan rearing and informing generations of strong young women!

Cheers,

Abby Green

Getting Off

Abby Green

Contemporary, sexy stories for sassy women

Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Mills & Boon

www.millsandboon.co.uk/Cosmo

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter One

I couldn’t see his face, and that frustrated me but then his head dipped and he kissed me again, his mouth firm, tongue stabbing deep, stroking mine, and I forgot all about that frustration to concentrate on the other one, growing between my legs where I was swollen and slick with arousal.

My entire body was pulsating. I’d never been so turned on, so hot, so ravenous for this man who loomed over me now, huge and awe-inspiring in the dim shadows of my bedroom.

Jesus, would he just start fucking me already? Before I died completely?

A dark chuckle told me I’d spoken out loud. ‘Easy, sweetheart. We have all night.’

My heart tripped and he teased me then, settling his body more firmly between my legs, his hard erection nudging against where I ached, where I was wet, making my back arch, struggling to get closer, to force him to impale me more.

Another dark chuckle, ‘You’re impatient aren’t you?’

His accent was indeterminate, kind of an East Coasty smooth American burr. So deep that I felt the vibrations in my body where I wanted him to be touching me right now.

Impatient? He had no idea. A wave of heat washed through my core. My body spasmed in anticipation. The tips of my breasts were so hard they hurt when they scraped against the rock-hard wall of his chest, the smattering of hair a delicious abrasion. I bit back a moan, almost delirious now with want, a fine sweat was breaking out all over my body.

And then, the answer to my incoherent prayers...he slowly fed himself into me, inch by inch. I looked down between our bodies and gasped. He was so big. But he felt so good, touching every sensitized cell in those secret inner walls as he thrust in with ruthless intent. Filling me. Finally.

I would forgive him everything if he just kept going.

I was panting now but didn’t care about trying to pretend to be remotely in control. He started to move in and out, hair-roughened thighs forcing mine apart even more, making my muscles burn. I lifted my legs and locked them around his lean hips, feet digging into muscular buttocks, forcing him to go deeper.

He cursed. I smiled, glad to be making him feel the burn, too. He ground out, ‘Baby, you feel so good.’

I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on the spiraling tension in my body, wrapping my arms around his neck. My breath was coming in jerky gasps now. I was so close.

Feverishly I circled my hips against his, urging him on, making him curse again. Please, I begged silently. Please, let me come.

But then, just as his movements became faster, less controlled, I felt myself approaching that wall I knew so well. The one I’d never broken through. He, however, was oblivious to my growing despair. I ground my hips into his desperately, still hoping...pleading silently, but it was too late. He thrust one, two times and shouted out his release...and I felt nothing. Cheated. All that heat and desperation trickling away, leaving me aching with dissatisfaction...

I finally woke up from the dream, heart racing—as it always was. A low humming noise broke through the familiar fog of disappointment and frustration, and the device between my legs told me that I’d now added a prop to my far-too-frequent nighttime excursions.

My vibrator. Which I had been using earlier to little effect. And which I’d obviously reached for in the throes of the dream. Disgusted, I threw it across the room, where it continued to buzz mockingly.

A week later

Dublin airport

‘Kitty Cat, I’m going to miss you.’

‘Don’t get all emotional on me or I’ll start crying, too, and you know how it makes my face puff up as if I have some kind of contagious disease.’ I looked around at the other passengers filing into the security line and hissed sotto voce , ‘And stop calling me Kitty Cat. I’m twenty-three now.’

Mary, my older sister by five years, rolled her eyes, ‘Fine. Caitlin Ryan, I’m going to miss you.’

I gave her an approving look and bit back a smile. ‘That’s better.’

We were both just expelling hot air, avoiding the elephant standing beside us. Johnny . So I took a deep breath and voiced my fears. ‘What if I find him and he doesn’t want to talk to me?’

My sister went pale and I wanted to throttle my brother all over again. She didn’t deserve this. Not after everything we’d been through since our parents had died ten years ago and she’d become our parent overnight.

‘He would be ecstatic to see you. He’s just making it harder for himself now by leaving it so long...’