★ Book Blitz ☆ Mr. Romantic by JA Huss

Mr. Romantic by JA Huss
The Mister Series Book Two
Contemporary Romance
Published June 22, 2016


Charm is the key to the world.
Charisma, magnetism, sex appeal—that ‘it’ factor that can’t be described.
Nolan Delaney has it is spades.
The infamous Mr. Romantic.
And maybe he is out of my league… But I’m going to give it the old college try anyway. Because I didn’t travel two thousand miles for a job interview at his request just to be put out like trash.
Don’t underestimate me, Mr. Delaney.
I’m really not as innocent as I look.
Mr. Perfect
Mr. Romantic
Mr. Corporate (Releases 8-17-16)
Mr. Mysterious (Releases 10-12-16)
Mr. Match (Releases 12-7-16)


Mr. Perfect by JA Huss
Contemporary Romance
Published April 27, 2016

Wanting the perfect man doesn’t make me crazy. I just know what I like.
A powerful billionaire in a suit wasn’t even my first choice. McAllister Stonewall was never on my radar, I didn’t even know he existed.
But I do now.
His hands are all over me at work. The heat of his chest pressing against my bare back as he bends me over the desk is the only thing on my mind.
He is my most forbidden desires unleashed. He is my new secret obsession. He is my Mr. Perfect.
Until the moment I realize… There’s no such thing as perfect.


Mr. Perfect by JA Huss
Contemporary Romance
August 17, 2016
Pre-order available now


Weston Conrad is the best headhunter in the business. That handsome smile goes a long way towards convincing most people to trust him with their future.
I’m not most people. I’m his direct competition. And it doesn’t hurt to be just the kind of woman he’s been looking for.
I’m gonna flash you these legs, Weston Conrad.
I’m gonna wear low-cut shirts and micro-mini skirts.
I’m gonna dazzle you with wit and conversation and kiss those lips like they’re exactly what I’ve been waiting for.
So don’t hate me when you figure out my secret.
You understand, right? You’re Mr. Corporate and this is just business.



Win a $25 Gift Card and a Signed Copy of Mr. Romantic by JA Huss

“What do you think so far? Do I live up to the hype?”
“Not really.”
“No?” He chuckles as we walk past the pool. “Why not?”
The whole thing becomes surreal for me in that moment. The emptiness of the resort. The heat and the sun. I am two thousand miles from home and I’m clutching Mr. Romantic’s elbow like we are lovers taking an evening stroll.
“You’re a little bit quiet so far.”
“Is that right?”
“Your sister is the bigger personality. I’m surprised she wasn’t accused of something inappropriate in college. I think she has it in her.”
Nolan laughs. “That’s kind of true. She’s a handful to most, but she’s been good to me. She’s very protective.”
“She called you dangerous.”
“What?” He stops walking and looks down at me. “When?”
“Today. She told me to stay away from you. Didn’t you know that?”
“What exactly did she tell you?” His mood has changed. Not a lot, but there’s an edge to his words.
“She said something like…” I struggle to remember her exact words, but can’t. I shouldn’t have said anything. He’ll probably confront her and use me as an example.
“Like?” Nolan pushes.
“You’re not romantic. Something like that. They called you Mr. Romantic when all that stuff happened because it was a joke.”
“And the dangerous part?” His words are low and when I look up at him, the easygoing expression has changed into something else.
“I don’t know why she said it. She was telling me to stay away from you all day. And I was angry that she was so dismissive of me. She said I was here by mistake. So I told her I was going to do my best to get the job anyway. And while I agree those men you hired are far more qualified, it was not fair of her to dismiss me so quickly. I’m not as innocent and inexperienced as I look, Mr. Delaney. I have ideas and I’m smart. Hiring everyone in the applicant pool but me was about the most humiliating thing I’ve ever experienced.”
Nolan continues our walk, silent for a few seconds. “You’re lucky.”
“I am?” I ask, a small laugh escaping. “How so?”
“You’re lucky that you’ve never been humiliated the way I have.”
Oh, shit. Way to go, Ivy.
“Do you think I’m dangerous?” Nolan asks, staring down at me in that way he does.
It makes me uneasy. “Maybe.”
“You’re willing to take that chance?”
“Well, good,” Nolan says. “Let’s have a nice dinner and I’ll tell you why I sent Claudette away and kept you here against her wishes.”
He did what?
My heart starts to beat faster. Why would he do that? Maybe Claudette was right to warn me? There’s hardly anyone here at the resort. Especially now that all the construction people have left for the day. The main pool is empty when we pass, and even the desk clerks are missing when we enter the lobby.
The dining room has two couples eating dinner and Nolan greets them by name as he leads me to the rear part of the restaurant. Back into a dimly lit room with a single table, white linen tablecloth flowing over the sides. Candle glowing in the center. Set for two.
“This is… unexpected.” My mind is filled with possibilities. And even though I came here with the intention of getting his full attention, possibly losing my virginity to him—and even though I’ve talked myself into feeling ready to take on a man like him, both professionally and personally—I am not excited. I am suddenly scared.
There’s not enough people. There’s not enough noise. There’s not enough of anything to make me forget just who I’m having dinner with.
Mr. Romantic. A man accused of raping a woman ten years ago. A man who was not prosecuted for that crime because the woman died before she could testify. A man who might be guilty.
Nolan pulls out a chair and waits for me to sit, sliding it in perfectly the way a gentleman does, before taking his seat across from me. “I like the unexpected, Miss Rockwell. Get used to it.”
I am in way over my head.


“Say it.”
“Say what?” she whispers.
“Say you want me to fuck you.”
She bites her lip and I can’t control myself. I lean in and kiss her. My tongue is more demanding now. “I’ll lick your pussy like this if you want. Do you want me to lick your pussy?”
She swallows hard and nods. “Yes.”
“How do you like it? Fast and thrusting? Or slow and swirly?”
“Um…” She stops, like she’s really considering this question. It’s cute. She takes it all so, so seriously.
“Say it, Ivy. Tell me. The more you tell me, the better it will be. I’ll do whatever you want. Lick you, suck you, squeeze your tits until you whimper. I’ll fuck your ass if you want. I bet your asshole is a virgin, isn’t it? I bet you have no idea how good that feels, do you?”
“No,” she says.
“I can show you. Maybe not tonight. Maybe tomorrow night. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” she breathes into my mouth. “Maybe tonight. Maybe we can do that?”
“Ah, you horny little slut. You want me in your ass? Fuck, yeah, Ivy Rockwell, I’m going to make you wish you met me years ago, before anyone else got to you first. Ruined you with boring intercourse. I won’t ruin you, Ivy. I’m going to make you wish I was your first. Make you beg me to do it again, and again.”
“Make me wish that, Nolan.”
“I will. I will.” I lower her other strap, and then yank her wet bathing suit down her body and peel it off, asking her to step out of it, one leg at a time, as she holds tight to my shoulders.
I throw it aside and she says, a little breathlessly, “I want to be on top.”
“OK, baby. I’m not gonna argue with that. But take my shorts off first. You can’t suck my cock with my shorts on.” She takes a deep breath and I start wondering just how much BJ experience she has. “Have you ever sucked a cock before?”
She shakes her head, just a little bit. Like she’s embarrassed.
Jesus. That makes me so fucking hard. “Don’t worry,” I say, petting her hair, the silky blonde strands slipping through my fingers until I reach her breast. I pinch her nipple and she moans. “I’ll tell you just how I like it. OK?” She presses her lips together, like she might not be OK with this. “For a girl who wants me to fuck her ass tonight, you sure seem nervous about all this other stuff.”
“Sorry,” she says.
“Don’t be. I love it. I love knowing I’ll be your first. I’ll teach you everything, Ivy. Now get on your fucking knees and take my shorts off so I can stick my cock down your throat.”
She starts breathing heavy, almost panting. But she drops to her knees. I place her hand on my hard cock and make her squeeze it.
“Do it,” I say, grabbing her hair and yanking a little. She moans again as her fingertips ease under the waistband of my swim trunks, tugging them down my legs until they drop on the floor.
I fist my cock, pumping it a few times, and say, “Are you ready to blow me?”
“Yessss,” she hisses through her teeth.
“Then put your hand right here, Ivy.” I take her hand and place it over my shaft.
“You’re so hard.”
“You make me hard. Now pump it. Yeah,” I say, “just like that.” She’s got a little technique going and I’m pleasantly surprised, a twisting motion as she slides her hand up and down my dick. “I want to be inside your mouth, Ivy. I want to feel your throat. Open up.”
She opens her mouth, leaning forward, but then she hesitates.
“It’s OK,” I say. “I won’t go deep. Yet.” Her eyes dart up to meet mine and I grip her hair even tighter. “Jesus, Ivy. Are you sure this is your first time?”
She smiles, gaining confidence.
“Open wider, Ivy. It’s not going to fit like that.”
She opens wider, waiting for me to move forward, but instead of doing it that way, I surprise her when I thrust her towards me and my dick slips inside her hot, wet mouth. Her lips seal around it automatically, her teeth scraping along my skin. I wince, but I don’t chastise her. I’ll take what I can get right now. If I scare her, she might not want to finish me off.
I ease deeper and she gags. I love the fucking gag reflex. I love when I’m fucking a girl and I stick my fingers down her throat to make her gag. Her pussy clamps down, every time.
I want to feel that with Ivy Rockwell.
I need my fingers in her pussy. I need to make her gag on my cock as I’m fingering her, just so I can feel the muscles clamp down.
“Get up,” I say, pulling on her hair as she stands. “Shhh,” I say, when she looks worried. “I love it. But I want to finger you as you suck. So come here.”
I sit down on the bed and lie back. “Turn around, Ivy. Sit on my chest and suck my cock while I stare at your pussy.”
She takes a deep breath and lets it out. But she climbs on, and positions herself just as I asked. Her ass is perfect. Two round globes, her pussy peeking out at me, practically dripping. Practically begging me to fuck her.


I hear him in the house. Down the hall. Downstairs. The beeping of something, like he’s arming the house alarm. Then silence. Just me, lying here naked, my wrists bound together by soft yellow rope.
He’s into something weird. Some bondage thing. He wants to tie me up and hit me with a riding crop. Put those clamp things on my nipples or… whatever. I’m not really sure what kinky guys do. And I haven’t read the books everyone has been talking about the past few years.
But Ivy Rockwell, you have to admit, you like it enough to be here.
A part of me might find it intriguing. In an academic kind of way. I mean, I have to wonder. Why the hell do people like this stuff? I certainly don’t feel sexual right now. Lying here on the bed, hands in front of me, chewing my lip as I wait for Nolan to decide to come back.
It’s the anticipation, I get it. He’s definitely got my mind spinning. But—
“Hey,” Nolan says from the bedroom doorway. “Zoning out or what?”
I didn’t even hear him come back. “No. I was just getting irritated, actually. For you taking so long.”
“Well, no one put you in a corner and called you bad, Ivy. You could’ve gotten up. Looked out the fucking window or something.”
“I know that,” I snap. But I… didn’t know that. Didn’t understand it at least. I just stayed here. Where he put me.
“I’m not dominating you, Ivy. I’m not going to ask you to lick piss up off the floor just to prove to me you’re interested. That’s not what I’m about.”
I wait for it, but he holds it in. He wants me to ask. That is what he’s about. Control. He’s not going to give anything away. I have to come get it. He is dominant. He does like submission. He just does it in a way I’ve never heard of before. He’s some kind of cutting-edge deviant. And I’m his new project. He’s going to use all his magic charms on me and see how far he can get before he has to throw me away and find someone new.
“What are you about?” I ask.
He grins a grin that sends a chill through my bare nipples. Like a breeze just passed over my body. He made me react.
“Pleasure, Ivy. I’m about pleasure.”
“You want to slap my face while you fuck me.”
“Wow.” He laughs. “Those are some dirty words coming from the preacher’s daughter’s mouth.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Why do you need to know?”
“Because I matter. You’ve got me—”
“Ivy,” he interrupts, his voice stern. “Relax. Enjoy.” And then I see what he’s holding in his hands.
“What’s that?”
“Paper. And charcoal pencils.”
Oh. I forgot. Jesus Christ. I take a deep breath and try to shake off my fear.
“You still want me to draw you?”
“Yes.” I have a million little justifications for this want. I don’t believe him. I think there’s more to it than what he’s saying. I think he’s sick, that he and his friends raped that girl, and then somehow, some way, the five of them got her killed.
At least I should think those things. Nothing Nolan Delaney has said to me is convincing. And I probably do think them. Do believe them, at least a little bit.


But that’s not why I want him to draw me.





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