Read That man 3 Online

Authors: Nelle L’Amour

That man 3

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That Man 3

Copyright © 2014 by Nelle L’Amour

Nook Edition

All rights reserved worldwide.

First Edition: May 2014

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either theproduct of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events,locales, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is purely coincidental.

No part of this ebook may be reproduced, uploaded to the Internet, or copied withoutpermission from the author. The author respectfully asks that you please support artisticexpression and help promote anti-piracy efforts by purchasing a copy of this ebookat the authorized online outlets.

Nelle L’Amour thanks you for your understanding and support. To join my mailing listfor new releases, please sign up here:

Cover by Arijana Karcic, Cover It! Designs

Proofreading by Karen Lawson

Formatting by BB eBooks

To everyone who has dared to do something out of their comfort zone. This book isfor you.


And to my daughters, who I hope will make daring choices in their lives that willbring them closer to the truth of who they are.

Table of Contents


Title Page

Copyright Page


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24


Note from the Author



About the Author

Books by Nelle L’Amour

Chapter 1


The shuttle from Friedman Memorial Airport in Hadley to the Sun Valley Lodge, whereI was staying over the Christmas break, took fifteen minutes. Leaving my rollawaybag and skis with the valet, I headed inside to the check-in counter and took in mysurroundings. The lobby of the venerable resort, built in 1936, was decked out forChristmas with a huge, almost ceiling high lit up tree and a roaring fire in the massive,holly-trimmed hearth. The place was bustling with guests milling around the lobby,hot drinks in their hands. Christmas music was playing over the speaker system. Itwas a winter wonderland.

Fortunately, the check-in line was short, and I was able to handle my reservationquickly. As the jolly attendant handed me my key card, a warm breath tickled my neckand a familiar, seductive voice traveled through my ear.

“Hi, Blakey.”

I spun around. Fuck. It was Kirstie. Or was it Kristie? I could never tell those twoapart. She was dressed in skinny faded jeans, a tight turtleneck sweater that clungto her D-cup boobs, and pink Uggs. Her platinum hair cascaded over her shoulders frombeneath a matching pink ski hat.

“I didn’t know you’d be here.” My voice wavered. Why wasn’t I excited to see her?She was as drop-dead gorgeous as ever and ready to be laid.

She moved uncomfortably close, trapping me between the counter and her body. Her heavyfloral scent was suffocating me. She smelled nothing of cherries and vanilla.

She licked her billowy glossed lips. They looked bigger than the last time I saw them.“Yeah. My sister and I got in last night. Why don’t we get in some ski time together?”

“Sure. Let me get settled into my room, and we’ll head to the slopes.” I immediatelyregretted what I said. I wanted to ski alone.

“What room are you in?”

I glanced down at my key card. “Room 606.”

“Cool. Kirstie and I are right next door.” Well, at least, I now knew which one shewas. However, the thought of having the Barbie doll twins a wall apart was unsettling.Too close for comfort.

“Want me to help you check in?” she breathed, circling her big tits against my skijacket. Her implants made her nipples so hard and erect I could feel them throughthe thick down-lined fabric. I squirmed as far away from her as I could.

“I can handle it. I’ll meet you down here in a half hour, and we’ll head over to Baldy.”Baldy was my favorite place to ski with its elevation of over nine thousand feet anda myriad of blazing trails.

“Perfect,” she purred.

She sashayed away and I heaved a sigh of relief.


My suite consisted of a bedroom with an adjacent bathroom, a living room with a fireplace,and a kitchenette. It was decorated in what I’d call Alpine-themed Ralph Lauren. Mirroringthe lobby, the décor was floral, with the king-sized bed, couch, and curtains alldone up in a red and pine green leafy print. Wall-to-wall dark green carpet linedthe floor.

I listlessly unpacked my suitcase, putting the jeans and heavy sweaters I’d broughtalong into a set of drawers. The rest of my skiwear I hung up in the closet. I shouldhave been excited about being in Sun Valley—I’d always had a great time here withall the fabulous activities the charming town offered, not the least being gettinglaid morning, noon and night, but instead I felt blue. I fucking missed Jennifer andwished she were here with me. All during my flight, I kept thinking about her. Hopingshe was thinking about me. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her since our gift exchangeat the office yesterday. Carefully, I set the last item in my suitcase on top of mynightstand. The little snow globe she’d given me. I gave it a shake and watched theglittery snowflakes flutter over the golden ball that somehow reminded me of my grandma’smatzo balls. The memory of watching her eat one at my parents’ Shabbat dinner flashedinto my head. I’d fantasized her sensuous mouth on one of my balls and had almostcome in my pants. She’d given the expression “from soup to nuts” a whole new meaning.And then my mind jumped forward to the other night. The night of the office Christmasparty—the night we fucked our brains out. It was the best sex I’d ever had. And I’dhad a lot. But it was more than the sex. While I could have fucked her one more time,I could have held her in my arms forever. I thought the feeling was mutual. But itwasn’t. To my utter shock, she didn’t want me. She said she’d made a mistake. ThatI’d taken advantage of her in her vulnerable state. A rebound fuck after her joltingbreakup with her fiancé, that two-timing dentist. Dickwick. Plus, she was afraid ofhaving an office relationship. At least, that I could understand. If it didn’t workout and one of us was going to get fired—who was it going to be? Her or me, the bigjefe’sson? You guessed right. With his dreams of having me head up his media empire, myfather would never fire me from Conquest Broadcasting.

But then I really fucked up. Big time. Desperate, I told her we could be casual fuckbuddies. I honestly didn’t mean it, but she didn’t believe me. She got dressed andleft me. Alone in my fuck pad with no one to fuck.

Never having dealt with rejection, I was fucking devastated. And confused. Selfish,spoiled, alpha me was a player. I left girls and not vice versa. They wanted me andcouldn’t get enough of me. But not Jennifer McCoy. I had suc­ceed­ed mag­nif­icent­lyand failed miserab­ly.

Her reaction to the gift I’d given her—the erotic painting of a kiss by Jaime Zander’slate father that mirrored our own first, unforgettable kiss—had given me a littlehope. She was overwhelmed. And not because it was such an extravagant gift. My fatheralways said actions speak louder than words. And he was right. The painting broughttears to her glimmering green eyes because it hit a nerve deep inside her. It madeher feel something. The same thing I felt. The electricity in the air between us wasso thick you could see sparks flying. It had taken all I had not to haul her intomy arms, smother her with another all-consuming kiss, and fuck her senseless overmy desk. And then just hold her in my arms.

She was right—we needed time away from each other to figure things out. Or at leastshe did. With a weighty heart, I gave the snow globe another shake and made a wish.I wished my tiger would come to the same conclusion as me: we plain and simply belongedtogether. With a twitch, my hopeful cock toasted to that. But deep inside my soul,I knew a relationship was a remote possibility. I sucked at them. In fact, I’d neverhad one.

Donning my ski gear, I clunked downstairs to the lobby in my heavy ski boots, my skisand poles under my arms. Kristie was already in the lobby. She was all dolled up inan expensive hot pink fur-trimmed ski jacket and matching ski pants. Furry earmuffscovered her ears, and she wore a thick layer of pink lipstick in the exact shade ofher outfit. I didn’t want that lipstick anywhere near me, but she was all over mebefore I could say, “fuck off.” I finally managed to pull my lips away from hers withoutcreating a scene. I thought about stopping at the concierge and asking for an antisepticwipe on my way out. The thought of having to share a chairlift with her was repulsive.


We took the shuttle and got to Baldy in no time. There was a long line for the lift.While we waited for a chair, my bubbly companion babbled on non-stop about all thefun she and her twin sister had had so far from ice skating to skinny dipping in theheated pool. She boasted how everyone recognized them from their print ads and commercials.For sure, a movie offer would be coming soon. I half-listened, interjecting an occasional“wow” or “cool.” My mind was elsewhere. Focused on someone else. My tiger. She wasroaring in my head.

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