You Sexy Thing!. Tori Carrington

      Dylan walked into his room, only to find steam billowing from the bathroom

      He turned the corner to investigate…and discovered a woman he’d never seen in his entire life taking a shower, the curtain thrown all the way open.

      Dylan’s mouth went dry.

      Mere feet away from him, a very tall, very…well-developed woman stood under the oscillating spray. Water clung to rounded breasts, then cascaded over dusky, erect nipples to slide down a wonderfully toned stomach. He swallowed hard, powerless to stop his gaze from venturing farther.

      He dug his fingers into his palms, vaguely aware of the way they suddenly itched. He was suddenly tempted to join her and explore every inch of flawless skin the water touched. Finally, sanity set back in and he brought his gaze up to her face.

      She was watching him.

      “Imagine that. My own personal Peeping Tom.” A smile flittered across her lips. “You don’t mind locking the door on the way out, do you, Tom?” Her voice fell to a husky murmur. “I mean, after you’ve looked your fill, that is…”

      Dear Reader,

      Our favorite books have always been ones that focus on emotionally mature, innately sexy and wonderfully bold characters who test the boundaries both in and out of the bedroom. That’s why we jumped at the chance to write for the new Blaze series. And soon afterward, we found our characters, Dylan and Grace, jumping all over each other!

      In You Sexy Thing!, sex therapist Dylan Fairbanks has faced his share of opponents, but Dr. Grace Mattias gets him hot under the collar—and other places—when he’s pitted against her time and again while on a promotional book tour. High on flirting, provocative behavior and obeying the spark of attraction, Grace’s beliefs conflict with Dylan’s more traditional ideology that unanimity between the brain and the body is the key to sexual health. Only, his own brain goes on a permanent sabbatical when Grace decides to try out her theories on him….

      We hope you enjoy Dylan and Grace’s sizzling journey. And we’d love to hear what you think of our first Blaze novel. Write to us at P.O. Box 12271, Toledo, OH 43612, or visit us on the Web at www.toricarrington.com. And be sure to check out www.tryblaze.com.

      Happy (and hot) reading,

      Lori & Tony Karayianni aka Tori Carrington

      You Sexy Thing!

      Tori Carrington

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      This one’s for all of you who like your books hot! And for our editor, Brenda Chin, and senior editor and editorial coordinator, Birgit Davis-Todd. Continued thanks for giving us the perfect forum to write the books we love. And for encouraging us to surprise even ourselves!

      Contents

      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

      Epilogue

      1

      New York City

      “GEE, THANKS, BUD, you’re a regular Donald Trump.”

      Dylan Fairbanks folded back the magazine he was reading and frowned at the hygienically challenged cabby. Did that mean he had tipped the driver too much or too little? Hard to tell. That was the problem with New Yorkers. Their sarcasm cut both ways. He shrugged, deciding a two-dollar tip was more than generous. Especially considering that they’d left his stomach—and his notes for today’s appearance—somewhere on the Queensboro Bridge. The autumn breeze had snatched the notes out of his hand and carried them through the half-open window. Unfortunately, the breeze had left behind the stench he’d been trying to clear out in the first place.

      A valet opened the door and Dylan climbed out, looking over the fifth hotel he was scheduled to stay at in as many days. It was certainly larger than the one he’d stayed at in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, the night before. Good. He could use the basic creature comforts like a laptop connection and virtual anonymity to catch up on his correspondence and see to work that he’d fallen criminally behind on since leaving San Francisco last week.

      But first he had to find his publisher’s PR rep, Tanja Berry. She had disappeared sometime last night with little more than a brief note saying she’d meet him here this morning. He scanned the people bustling in and out of the revolving brass-framed door, wondering exactly when she had planned to meet him. Since no one sported her purple-tipped short black hair, he guessed it wasn’t now.

      Where was she? He glanced at his watch. She had better show up soon or else they’d never make it to the radio station in time for his interview.

      “Dr. Fairbanks?”

      Dylan freed his overstuffed suitcase from the revolving monster that doubled as a door then grimaced at a uniformed young man with bad acne. “It depends on what you want.”

      The guy looked puzzled, Dylan’s halfhearted attempt at humor skimming right over his head.

      He sighed. “Yeah, that would be me.” A prospect that usually left him pretty satisfied with himself and his life, but right now made him want to trade his doctorate for a teamsters membership card.

      “You’re already checked in, sir.” The concierge-in-training handed him a room key, then wrestled him for his one suitcase. “It’s Room 1715. Miss, um, Berry suggested you go on up. She’s already there.”

      “Very good.” He tugged on the handle of his suitcase, battling the youth for control. “And I can see to this. Thank you.” He finally gained possession and nearly fell over backward for his effort.

      Miss Berry had likely already given the kid a generous tip for scouting him out. He wasn’t about to pay him any more. He brushed away the pang of guilt and told himself he was being savvy. But the simple truth was that he had grown up with very little money of his own, and now that he had money, he was hesitant to part ways with it. You never knew what the future held. And over the course of the promotional tour he was coming to think he was in the wrong business. He was convinced hotel employees made more per annum than he did. He headed for the glass-encased elevators. This was one less entry he’d have to make on his expense sheet. And that was always a plus.

      Dylan punched the up button next to the elevators and stood back to wait. And wait. And wait. He ran his hand over his face. Only five days into his three-week promotional book tour and he wanted to change his name and move to someplace where nobody knew his name. Where no one called him “the world’s greatest sex expert.” Where people didn’t know he’d written a book, much less two—the latest one bearing the misleading title Reaching New Heights—Advice on How to Obtain Ultimate Sexual Pleasure. Having men sidle up to him at book signings to ask what tips he could give them to drive the opposite sex wild—wink-wink—had lost its patina long ago. And so had the women of all ages and socioeconomic backgrounds who slipped him hotel room keys that he immediately