by: Nicole Archer
Series: Ad Agency
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: October 30, 2017
Publisher: Twist Idea Lab
I was done with games. But playing with her is so much fun.
Ten years ago, I was all set to compete in the winter Olympics. Then I lost everything—my career, my best friend, and my girlfriend.
After that, I stopped playing games for good. I swore never to go back to Colorado. Too many bad memories. Plus, she’s still there.
Now I live a simple life as a creative director at Shimura Advertising in New York. All is good, until my boss cons me and my coworkers into spending two weeks in Colorado at Proton Sports’ sleep-away camp for adults, pitching their business. Turns out Proton’s idea of a pitch is making the agencies battle each other in a bunch of ridiculous winter games.
Guess who owns the rival company? Her. And she’s out to get me.
I might just let her win.
*Field-Tripped is Book 3 in the in the Ad Agency Series and can be read as a standalone.
Back at the lodge, Charlotte can’t lift her shoulder to take off the costume.
I reach for the Velcro fasteners on her back.
She smacks my hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
I step back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dark daggers slice into me. “I’m used to being hurt by you.”
I scoff. “Oh, really? Is that what you told your boyfriend out there? That I’m the one who hurt you?”
She inches closer and rams a finger into my chest. “He’s not my boyfriend, you…butthole!”
“What are we, in junior high again?”
“You son of a—!” She barrels into me, knocking me back on my ass. Then she piles on top of me and tries to punch my face.
I belly laugh. “You’re like a Tyrannosaurus Rex. You can’t hit me wearing that thing.”
She bounces on top of me, trying to smother me with her sumo suit.
“You’re gonna hurt yourself.”
Tears sprout from the corners of her eyes. “I hate you.”
“Hey.” I brush a tear off her cheek.
She leans into my palm and closes her eyes. Her hair dangles in my face. It smells just like I remember—like strawberry bubble bath.
It comes rushing back—that horrible pang—the Charlie addiction. “Get off me.”
She sniffles. “Not until you talk to me.”
I flip her over and pin her arms.
Underneath me, she thrashes like a wild animal.
“Settle down, woman.”
“Ow! My shoulder.”
I release her hands.
Bad move.
She grabs my hair and rips.
“Ow! Shit!” I pin her hands back down and grin. “Aw. You’re so cute when you’re mad.”
Her body stills, and her warm syrupy gaze melts into mine. She licks her lips and closes her eyes. “I hate you.”
My mind goes blank, and I bend over and bite her bottom lip.
She bites mine back.
We tear into each other like wild animals. The taste of her sweet breath, the silkiness of her lips, our gnashing teeth and hungry moans—it turns me into a savage.
Somehow, I get a hold of myself and let go of her arms.
Another bad move.
Once again, she grabs me, this time by the beard, and yanks.
I bite her neck hard then suck the bruised skin.
Then we’re at it again, slamming our mouths together.
Outside, the sound of laughter drifts toward the lodge. I hop up and wipe my mouth.
She pushes herself up, wincing in pain.
My anger dissipates. “Let me help you.”
“Leave me alone. Do what you did ten years ago, and just leave me the hell alone.”
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