The Negotiator by Avery Flynn #BookReview #excerpt
*** This review is SPOILER-FREE! Read on with confidence! ***
He had to be. A fake engagement to one of the most eligible bachelors in Harbor City so he could avoid his mom’s matchmaking attempts? Now that was an adventure to write home about. Not that she could because of…all the reasons in the world. It was hard to come up with a specific one when he was standing so close, smelling so good, and looking so much better than even the sexiest paparazzi photo
The Negotiator is a riotous adventure of steamy sex, witty comebacks, and sharp characters, with unexpected hilarity and heart. So, basically, an Avery Flynn romance. This lady never disappoints. From private detectives to special ops teams to billionaire businessmen, her heroes all have one thing in common: I want to lick them right through my reader. I won’t, mind you. *shifty eyes* That streak on my screen is the dog’s doing… Anyway, if snarky repartee and classy fixtures is your bag, The Negotiator has it aplenty.
By the time he’d gotten the zipper all the way down, his entire body was hard and demanding attention. A skinny river of her creamy flesh lay exposed to his hungry gaze where the zipper lay open. He caught a flash of her bra’s bright blue color and a dusting of pale peach freckles along her spine that led his attention lower to the initial rise of her completely bare and succulent ass.
“Why, Clover Lee.” He glided a finger across the swell of one cheek. “I’m shocked at your brazenness.”
“Liar,”she said, turning her head to look back at him as she wiggled her ass at him like a red flag at a bull. “If anything, you’re totally turned on by it. The next time we go out you’ll wonder the entire time if I’m wearing any panties.”
She was right and, no doubt, she knew it. Fuck, he was already going through every moment he’d seen her before and wondering if she’d been wearing underwear then. It was blissful torment, but nothing compared to having the woman ready, wanting, and half dressed in the middle of his bed. “Guess that just means I’ll always have to check before we go out.”
Holy smoking hotness. These two are combustible.
His fingers clamped around her wrist and he spun her around before half propelling, half carrying her to the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city and pressed her palms flat against it. “Exhibitionist much?” she asked, her heartbeat racing as she leaned forward and let her hard nipples brush against the cool glass. “I don’t care about who can see us, but I want to see it all while I’m inside you.” He stood behind her, the almost overwhelming heat from his body seeping into hers. “I want you to have the whole vast world in your sights when you come again, squeezing my dick and calling my name.”
The Negotiator is a delightfully sexy romp that has all the right elements to charm and seduce and sweep you right into the romance. Sawyer and Clover are an unlikely pairing that click and contrast in the best possible ways. The settings and supporting characters infuse couture and tension and warmth and a touchstone of home without feeling overbearing or boring. I devoured this book in less than a day, and it wasn’t even on my review list!
Treat yourself to an easy read that will have you laughing and sympathizing and wanting to reach through your reader to give the characters a big ole hug. The Negotiator is a GraveTells Recommended Read!
Recommended for readers who enjoy…
- Billionaire businessman romances
- Stories with penthouse settings
- Plucky heroines who march to their own beat
- Adult romance that carries a healthy, mature New Adult feel
- Workaholic heroes with a stern exterior and warm heart
- Witty dialogue
This review copy was provided by the Reviewer. No compensation was received for this review.
My star rating:
The Negotiator by Avery Flynn
on April 24th 2017
Genres: Romantic Comedy, Contemporary
Add it to your To Read shelf: Goodreads
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Wanted: Personal Buffer
Often snarly, workaholic executive seeks “buffer” from annoying outside distractions AKA people. Free spirits with personal boundary issues, excessive quirks, or general squeamishness need not apply. Salary negotiable. Confidentiality required.
Workaholic billionaire Sawyer Carlyle may have joked he needed a buffer from their marriage-obsessed mom, but he didn’t need a waiting room filled with candidates to further distract him. (Thanks, bro.) But when a sexy job applicant shooes his mom and the socialite in tow out of his office, Sawyer sees the genius of the plan. And the woman. In fact, Miss Clover Lee might just get the fastest promotion in history, from buffer to fake fiancé...
This free-spirit might look like hot sunshine and lickable rainbows, but she negotiates like a pitbull. Before Sawyer knows what hit him, he’s agreed to give up Friday nights for reality tv, his Saturdays for flea markets (why buy junk still baffles him), his Tuesdays and Thursdays for date nights (aka panty-losing opportunities if he plays his cards right). And now she wants lavender bath salts and tulips delivered every Monday?
Yup, she’s just screwing with him. Good thing she’s got this non-negotiatable six-weeks-and-she’s-gone rule or Sawyer may have just met this match..
Read an excerpt
A teasing promise lit her eyes. “And I never would have guessed you didn’t have any experience working with your hands.”
Now that was just a straight up lie. “I never said that. You know very well that I’m good with my hands.” He reached out and tucked a stray blonde hair behind her ear, letting his touch linger. “Very good.”
Her breath caught, but she didn’t move away as his fingers trailed down the soft column of her neck. Her pulse thrummed under his touch and one glance down at the hard peaks pushing against her thin T-shirt confirmed she was skating along the same fault line between sanity and lust that he was.
“Are you flirting with me?” she asked, her voice breathy.
“No.” He didn’t flirt. That was Hudson. Sawyer was the grumpy brother. He never flirted. Still, his hand didn’t drop from where he was touching her and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her perfect pink mouth.
“Of course not.” She leaned forward, cutting the distance between them, so close he could feel her soft breath against his skin. “That would violate the contract.”
The temptation to dip his head the few inches to kiss her had his entire body hard and wound tight with anticipation. Lust ran through him like a runaway freight train. The little voice in the back of his head screaming that this was a bad idea suffered the same fate as it had in the supply closet last night: death by ignoring. Clover Lee had that effect on him. It was going to be a very long month and a half.
“The napkin didn’t say anything about flirting,” he said.
No, he was totally free to give himself blue balls the size of watermelons every time he came near his personal buffer.
“Ah-ha!” The triumphant sound escaped her lush lips as she straightened, expanding the space between them and dislodging his hand from her soft skin. “You are flirting.”
Was he? No. He was torturing himself. That was a very different sort of hell. “You take all the fun out of things.”
“No way.” She shook her head, the movement letting a few more silky strands loose from the knot on the top of her head. “I am the definition of fun. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be in your office banging on your keyboard.”
“I don’t bang.”
“Not me, you don’t,” She shot him a cocky smirk. “It’s in the contract.”
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