How To Kill Your Boss – An Erotic Love Story by Krissy Daniels
Tatum Wood murders her boss on a daily basis. Daydreams, real dreams, it doesn’t matter. In her opinion, it’s better than therapy. That is until he takes a swan dive off the roof of a building and all evidence points to her as the main suspect.
Enter Franklin Reed, her mysterious, overprotective and drop-dead gorgeous coworker. His injection into her life couldn’t have come at a better time. Two men are brutally attacked across the hall from her apartment and she has a stalker with a penchant for roses.
Franklin is all too eager to play the hero in and out of bed. Their attraction is undeniable, their heat level, searing. As they scramble to discover who’s behind the murders, secrets are unearthed that call to question Franklin’s motives as well as his identity. Tatum discovers that life is never what you expect and love isn’t always hearts and flowers. Sometimes, it lurks in the shadows and bites you on the ass when you least expect it.
He returned wearing faded jeans that hung low on his waist and a gray, trim-fitted Henley that opened to a deep V at the collar, revealing a sneak peak of bare chest. I wanted to jump his bones. Seriously, I did. I wasn’t a slut or anything, but with the beer in my gut, the electricity in his eyes, and the shirt that clung like plastic wrap to his skin, I feared I could easily become one.
Franklin plopped his glorious ass on the cushion, leaving less than an inch between us. Tremors pulsed through my lower abdomen. What was he doing? What the hell was I doing? I should’ve never come to his apartment. Should’ve stopped at one beer and gone home. It was way too close for colleagues to sit together. Way too close.
“Franklin, I should head ho—”
He pinched my lips together with his thumb and forefinger. “Shush. It’s starting. You’re not allowed to talk for the next sixty minutes, got it?” He freed my lips and I started to protest until he flashed me a don’t-you-dare scowl. “Relax and enjoy, Tate.” He leaned back, extended his legs in front of him and stretched his arms wide before clasping his hands behind his head.
I couldn’t pay attention to the ex-con-turned-small-town-sheriff on the big screen. It took serious concentration to keep my breaths steady, my heart rate normal, my hands to myself. Franklin was too warm and all-consuming next to me. So close, so male. My skin tingled with the need to either jump him or get the heck out of there.
The first commercial in, on his trot to the refrigerator, Franklin blessed me with a long hard gander at his round firm rear. I’d caught a glimpse or two, or three thousand, of his ass at work. How could I not? The way he filled out his slacks was nothing short of divine, but holy freaking cow, what he did to a pair of jeans—downright illicit. I couldn’t peel my eyes away. It was just—bam—there, accented by the slight curve of his small waist that spread into broad, muscled shoulders. He glanced at me before disappearing behind the wall.
I’m pretty sure he smirked, but the light was dim and I was buzzed, so I couldn’t be certain.
He returned with two glasses of ice water and placed them on the floor between us. I squealed when he sat down and grabbed my legs from under me, placing them over his own.
“Were you staring at my ass, Tate?” he asked, voice huskier than normal.
Gulp. “Yes.” Why lie? I couldn’t find the courage to look at him. With strong sure hands, Franklin massaged my left foot.
“Why?” he asked, leaning toward me.
Why? What did he mean, why? Because it was effin’ perfect. Because I wanted to peel his jeans off and unwrap that derriere like a Christmas present. Rub it, hold it, leave claw marks. Gnaw on it like a piece of jerky. I found my voice again, along with the courage to meet him square in the eye. “You have a smoking hot ass, Mr. Reed. It begs to be ogled.”
“You’re blushing,” he half whispered, half moaned.
If he’d intended to ruffle my feathers, it worked. Lucky for me, enough liquid courage remained in my belly and flowed through my veins to meet his challenge head-on.
I shifted and wiggled my toes. “As a matter of fact, Frankie, I check out your rump at least three hundred and twenty-five times a day. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop wearing your suit jacket at work. It covers that fine tush of yours, and when it’s hidden, it puts me in a foul mood.”
That something, dark and promising, flashed in his eyes again. A new wave of heat landed on my cheeks. He laughed and turned toward me, propping one knee on the couch. “Is that so, Miss Wood? I happen to appreciate your ass on a regular basis as well. This skirt you’re wearing now is by far my favorite. Hugs those curves of yours perfectly. Made me drool on more than one occasion.”
Oh, he was good. I should have stopped there. We worked together. Nothing about this conversation was appropriate for coworkers.
My unruly mouth and I continued, “If I could, I’d frame your ass and hang it on my wall.”
Shut up, Tate. Shut up.
Q: Romance readers have a lot of choices these days. What makes How To Kill Your Boss – An Erotic Love Story stand out in the crowd?
A: Franklin and Tate’s love story is quirky, fun and a little bit dark. She has valid reasons for for being unsure of his intentions. He has valid reasons for keeping her in the dark. How to Kill Your Boss is full of murder, mystery and smoking’ hot sexy time.
Q: We like to include our favorite quote in our reviews of the books we read. What is your favorite quote from How To Kill Your Boss – An Erotic Love Story?
A: My favorite quote from How To Kill Your Boss – An Erotic Love Story is:
I couldn’t take anymore. I’d been spied on, shot at, lied to, accused of murder, witnessed gruesome acts of violence, deflowered, and now kidnapped in the course of two short weeks. How much was a girl supposed to take?
How To Kill Your Boss – An Erotic Love Story by Krissy Daniels
Contemporary, Erotic Romance
07/21/2014 – Kensington/Lyrical Press
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Krissy Daniels’s website
About Krissy Daniels
Krissy is a full time writer, reader and lover of all things romance.
Growing up surrounded by the great outdoors, life was full of adventure that fueled an overactive imagination and ignited a passion for storytelling. Whether it be dolls, or running free through the wooded areas surrounding her home, playtime always included a tormented villain, a damsel in distress and a larger than life hero.
After relentless encouragement from friends and family, she finally put the characters in her head to pen and paper. The only thing she loves more than curling up with a steamy romance novel, is cozying up to her desk and writing her own sexy adventures to share with others.