Chandler: A Standalone Contemporary Romance Read Online Free PDF

later , I still want more.
    I can’t get Genevieve out of my mind. Can’t stop imagining being inside her. My dick is practically raw from how many times I’ve beat off thinking about her.
    The thing is—I’m not just thinking about what we did. That wouldn’t be so unusual. I’ve previously had quite a few amazing rolls in the sack that begged to be recreated in my mind later, and who am I to deny those recollections the honor they deserve?
    So, yeah. Whacking off to memories is totally standard protocol. I just make sure I don’t think about the specific woman too much when I’m in recall mode, you know, to stay true to the don’t-get-attached part of my objective. It’s generally not a problem.
    But with Genevieve, it is.
    Her face is etched into my brain. The memory of the silky feel of her skin gnaws at my fingertips. Everywhere I go, I think I hear her laugh in the crowds around me. Seriously, I’m starting to think I’m going insane.
    The worst part is the sexual fantasies. Like implied, I have replayed what actually happened that night a few times—the way her hips bucked under my mouth, the sounds she made when she released. But I’m mostly tormented with the things that didn’t happen. Things I wish happened. Things I wish could happen in the future . Things like tearing through her panties and bending her over my knee. Things I can’t think about for long without feeling like I need a confessional or a cold shower. Or both.
    And it’s all day, every day that I’m thinking about her. At the office. When I’m working out. While my mother drones on to me about her latest lunch with the ladies. During the two hours I spend at Hudson’s while he shows off the twins—Holden Everett and Brett Evangeline. Even Mina, his three-year-old, can’t distract me from Genevieve—and that little girl and I are tight. I’m telling you, there’s not a woman who owns my heart like my niece, and yet the sound of her adorable preschooler-speak is underscored with memories of Genevieve’s lilting accent, and instead of encouraging Mina to say more, all I want to do is clap my hands over my ears and scream.
    In other words, I’m a total wreck.
    I know the solution to getting Genevieve out of my head is to find another chick to bang and fast. But she’s so present, so vivid in my mind it’s like I’m being haunted. There’s no way I can begin to entertain the idea of looking for another hookup in this state.
    By the time a week rolls past, I’m so miserable that I’m ready to do something drastic to get over this woman. Like make an appointment with Hudson’s shrink. Or, worse, track down Genevieve for a repeat.
    Problem with the latter? I never bothered to get her last name. And since I never planned to see her again, I didn’t take note of her room number. Besides, I was too preoccupied to notice anything in that hallway besides the taste of her tongue.
    Ah, that tongue. I imagine it trailing down my skin, lower to places that her mouth never met.
    It’s this thought that throws me over the edge. I have to find her.
    And that’s how I end up outside Hudson’s office on a Wednesday afternoon when I know he’s still out on paternity leave.
    “Hey there, Chandler,” his secretary greets me. “What brings you by my neck of the floor?”
    Trish is one of those women who would do anything for me. The way she fawns when I’m in her presence—it’s almost ridiculous. She’s pretty smoking, too. If she weren’t my brother’s secretary, I would have nailed her years ago. But we work in the same building, and sleeping with a woman I see every day goes against my mission statement. So instead, we’ve developed a friendly flirtation that, I think, is pretty healthy. It definitely makes trips to Hudson’s office more tolerable.
    I unbutton my jacket and perch on the edge of her desk. “Not much. Just been a little cold lately. Figured I needed a little sunshine in my life. Feeling warmer