Paige is LIVE

#newrelease

PAIGE (Woman Empowered)

Tied In Steel series, book 2 in a brand new series of standalones

by

MJ Fields

is #LIVE #Onclick #ForeverSteel #Empowered #Women

 

 

   3 days only on the following retail sites ( April 8,9, & 10), then available exclusively on KU

 

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📚Read an #Excerpt

( Heat 🔥)

I grab the door jamb, trying to physically hold myself back, and then decide fuck it. Taking the stairs three at a time, at the top, I look around. It’s huge, open, in desperate need of updates, but it’s clean.

Clean.

I see three doors. One is open with the light on. I hear water running.

She’s in there.

Unbuttoning my shirt, I walk toward the open door, seeing her clothes are in a pile just over the threshold.

I push the door the rest of the way open as I unbutton my pants and push them down, along with my boxer briefs. Then I bend down to pull them off and hear the shower curtain move. I don’t look up until my pants are off and I step out of them.

Her eyes are wide and hungry, just like my cock.

As I step closer, she steps farther in, welcoming me.

I grab the body sponge that is in her hand and visibly watch goosebumps climb up her arm as I pull on it slightly for her to release it. She shakes her head and pulls it back. Then she lifts it, sliding it across my collarbone as her wide, hungry eyes soften and she steps closer, closing the gap between us.

She runs the sponge across my pecs, and I close my eyes because this, this feels so fucking good. My chest warms from the inside as she rubs down my abs, then up again, slowly moving the sponge up my shoulders. Next, she pushes up on her tiptoes to scrub the back of my neck.

Her breath smells like mint, her nipples press against my chest, and my cock rests against her stomach. I want to kiss her, eat her, fuck her, come in her, but this, this feels really damn good, too.

I don’t ever remember a time when someone washed my body. Hell, I never even got into the whole massage thing like everyone else I know did.

I reach out and grab the end of her braids and take off the little rubber bands. Then I work my fingers into her hair to release it from those damn things. She moans when my fingers work her scalp. I tug her hair so her head tips back and the water showers down on her.

This is not helping my hard-on, I think as I watch water run from her head, down her neck, her shoulders, and over her fucking tits. Suddenly, I’m thirsty, thinking about how sexy it was drinking wine from them.

Water will have to do.

I bend down and take one nipple in my mouth while using my hand to knead the other, giving that side a tweak and a tug simultaneously, mimicking me sucking her nipple.

She whimpers, and her breaths become labored. I know she’s worked up enough that I can set her off easily and take what I have been craving since that fucking night.

I let her tit fall from my mouth, and she moans in protest. Then I grip her hips and push her against the wall before sinking to my knees, lifting one of her legs and burying my fucking face between them. I start feasting on her.

She thrusts her hips and tangles her fingers into my now drenched hair.

I release her hips, knowing she will take what she wants, and I will learn more about what it takes to get her there.

Reaching up for her tits, I grip them hard, inwardly scolding myself. I start to release them when she covers my hand with hers and squeezes harder.

Fuck yes.

I look up at her while still licking and sucking every slick fold, feeling her body tense and shake. She moans then cries out as I lick and suck every fucking delicious part of her. I want to know how to get her off in seconds, and I want to know how to make her beg for a release only I can give her.

Over and over, I repeat every fucking move and take note of every fucking reaction I get, branding it into my memory so that I am a walking, fucking Wikipedia entry for Paige Arnesen’s pussy on a fucking members-only database where I’m the one and only member.

“Vincent, please,” she begs, grinding her bare pussy against my face.

 

( Heart ❤️)

 

He pulls into Caroline’s and hops out. I open the door, and he holds out his hand.

When we walk in, I see nothing has changed. I take comfort in it. It’s busy, and there are four people working. A girl at the counter, two delivering food to the tables, and I see Caroline in the back. Four people who depend on this place to help feed their families.

I walk over to the wall of shelves where different cups line them. I look at them all and try to decide which one I would like today. I read them over. “Coffee, because punching people is frowned upon,” “You Got This,” “Get Shit Done,” and “We can’t all be queens. Someone has to bow when I walk by.” I reach for it when Vincent pushes a cup into my hand.

I turn it around and read it out loud, “You’re my person.” I smirk and look at him as he grabs for the one he chooses. “Don’t you wish your coffee was hot like me.

He holds it up. “Accurate?”

Laughing, I look to find another one and my eyes focus on one that says, “Love Matters.”

“Come on, person.” He pulls at my hand.

“What can we get for you today?” A girl I think I recognize but am unsure looks up at Vincent. Her eyes widen and a blush immediately covers her cheeks.

“Paige?” he asks, looking down at me.

“Egg white omelet with turkey bacon and loaded with veggies.” I smile at her, but she is writing down my order, so she doesn’t look at me.

“Egg white omelet, real bacon, loaded with vegetables and cheese,” Vincent tells her as he runs his hand over his stubble while looking at the menu. “A side of home fries and toast.”

“Hungry?” I joke.

“Always.” He winks. “Alas, food will have to substitute for—”

I elbow him in the side, and he grunts out a laugh.

“That’ll be twenty-three fifty,” the woman behind the counter tells us.

Thankfully, he pulls out his black leather wallet to pay, because I left my purse at home.

There is a significant change in how the Vincent I have known for years acts and the one who could possibly break my heart, not just temporarily shatter my self-confidence like I allowed the others to.

He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me against him. Then he bends down and kisses me on top of the head.

We fill our cups from the pots next to the cash register. He takes his black, and I use almond milk and two sugars. We then walk toward a corner table where he pulls out a chair for me. When I sit, I watch him walk to the opposite side of the table and realize he always has his back to the wall and faces the point of entry. I won’t say it doesn’t make me even more attracted to him, knowing even though he seems completely at ease, he’s always looking around for the possibility of danger.

As he looks me over, I realize I have looked like shit since he got here. Hair and makeup untended, and my attire is definitely not what he is used to with me. I would worry that it makes me less desirable to him, but the way he looks at me … I love the way he looks at me.

 

 

( Family too ❤️)

 

Entering the kitchen, I immediately see Babička, and she sees me.

“Stephan, come sit.”

I’m already aware of how fond Paige is of her, and from what I’ve experienced in the short time since I met her, I’m going to like her, too. Even if she hasn’t got a fucking clue who I am. She thinks i’m her deceased husband. It’s sweet.

I let go of Paige’s hand and walk over to sit beside her. As soon as I sit, she grips my knee, which shocks me.

I immediately look at Paige, who is biting her lower lip to stop from laughing. She obviously saw what just happened.

When Babička begins smoothing her fingers up and down my kneecap, I look over at her, and she grins.

I hear Paige’s brother Pace, laugh as he walks behind me, carrying two large bowls that he sets down on the table.

I reach under the table and hold Babička’s hand to stop her caresses. She sighs and rests her head on my arm.

Paige walks over and takes one of the large, ceramic bowls, carrying it back behind me and Babička. When she’s next to her, she scoops out some of the contents of what I now know is a pot roast and puts it on the plate in front of Babička.

“Oh, I’m not quite that hungry,” Babička tells her as she hands me the bowl.

I set it on the table, unwilling to release Babička’s hand, fearing where it may lead. Then I scoop some of the contents out and onto my plate before setting the wooden spoon back in it. I start to pick it up to pass it to Pace when he takes it.

“You’ve got your hands full enough; I have this.”

“Just five bites, Babička, okay?” Paige holds up the spoon for her to eat, and she does. After each bite, Paige stops and uses the cloth napkin to dab the corner of her lips as Babička eats slowly. I see Pace scooping some of the roast onto his mother’s plate as she looks at him with adoration in her eyes.

There isn’t a whole lot of conversation around the table, so I concentrate on Paige feeding her grandmother. This is another side of Paige Arnesen; a sweeter, kinder, gentler side. I like it.

After Babička’s fourth bite, she rests her head against my arm again, and I feel the weight of her head becoming heavier.

Paige sighs. “She’s asleep.”

 

 

 

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