Click on image to enlarge.

	Regular				Club
You Pay:	$5.25				$4.46

eBook Category: Erotica/Romance
eBook Description: With no Mr. Right in sight, Paige Woods has decided to take matters into her own hands. Or rather, the hands of a fertility specialist. At thirty-eight she's determined to have the family she's always dreamt of and sees no need for a man to make that happen. Paige has wasted enough time searching for the man that won't break her heart and is over the entire process. She wants a baby. Period. If only the hot hunk of man she met recently wasn't so appealing?and gay. Vincent Manos could hardly contain his inner-beast when he caught Paige's scent. She's his mate! He had searched for the woman to complete him for over one hundred years and he had found her. In a gay bar of all places. Now he just needs to clear up the inconvenient confusion surrounding his intentions and everything will be well, won't it?

eBook Publisher: Atlantic Bridge/Liquid Silver Books, Published: 2007
Fictionwise Release Date: December 2007

242 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [404 KB], eReader (PDB) [117 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [95 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [85 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [138 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [146 KB], hiebook (KML) [250 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [159 KB], iSilo (PDB) [79 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [97 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [150 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [134 KB]
Words: 30928
Reading time: 88-123 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: ISBN 978-1-59578-388-2

Tick tock tick tock...

Was Paige the only one who heard the infernal ticking? The constant reminder that her 'so called' biological clock was winding down, faster and faster as each day passed. The annoying sound, with its steadily increasing tick, screamed at her that she wasn't getting any younger.

At twenty-nine ... No, I'm thirty-eight. I may lie to the rest of the world, but I need to stop lying to myself. That's how I ended up like this. Thirty-eight, no husband, no romantic interests, and no children.

Paige had grown up dreaming of having her own large family, yet here she was, old and alone. Okay, maybe old was relative and alone wasn't exactly accurate either. She did have her best friend, Steven, on the other side of the gay bar, chatting up another guy.

Taking another sip of her apple martini, she sighed and sat the glass down. Toying with the stem of the cherry, she zoned out.

"Come here often?"

Startled by the velvety voice invading her thoughts, Paige shot the stranger a 'fuck off' look. She didn't need some man invading her pity party when it was getting good. She started to tell him just that, but when she locked eyes with the stranger all thoughts left her brain.

Paige looked up into a set of golden, sunlight colored eyes. Couple those eyes with his midnight black hair that touched the top of his collar and he was breathtaking. His skin was deeply tanned and made her think he was from some Mediterranean country. When she let her eyes take in his face, her suspicions were confirmed. The strong features she saw in his face could only come from being born into a long line of Greeks. With his chiseled jaw and strong nose, he looked like a Greek god fresh from the pages of some of her favorite myths. Appearing to be in his mid-twenties with a body that was muscled in all the right places, Paige thought he was the kind of man that could go all night. Too bad he'd be going all night with another man. Why was he sitting next to her instead of scoping out the fresh meat scattered throughout the bar? Could he be the lone straight man in the building? Never.

Internally slapping herself for being attracted to a man that must be gay, she narrowed her eyes on him again. She was determined to get him to leave her to her self-inflicted pity party. Let's be realistic, a woman sitting alone in a gay bar and he was going to sit next to her and ask 'come here often?' Please.

Continuing to stare at the man, her mind rolled through the reasons why he'd decided to sit next to her. Why would he start up a conversation with her?

Holy shit! He thinks I'm a transvestite! Oh my god, do I look like a man dressed as a woman?

While getting dressed for her evening out with Steven, Paige had put effort into her appearance and thought she looked pretty good. While admittedly she was pleasantly plump, she did her best to dress for her size.

Her size was a nice rounded sixteen, rounded being the operative word. She donned her favorite pair of worn hip hugging jeans that managed to hug not only her hips, but her curvaceous ass as well. She had examined said ass in the mirror for fifteen minutes, making sure it looked just right.

Her rear end and her 'sometimes bigger than she wished they were' breasts were Paige's best assets. Even if she was going to a gay bar, they were going to look their finest.

Pairing her favorite jeans with a chiffon low cut top in the palest of pinks, she left the house feeling pretty, almost gorgeous. Now she was sitting next to a man who thought she was a transvestite. What a way to end the night.

"No."

Paige refused to make this easy on him. If he wanted to hit on the only obviously female individual in the bar, let him fight to hit on her. Then she'd rip him a new one. She'd worked herself into a damn good pissed off mood and now had the perfect outlet for her frustrations. For some reason he smiled when he heard her curt answer, and didn't seem fazed one bit.

"I didn't think so. Can I buy you another drink?"

Fine. Let him spend his money on the wrong flavor. Did he not see that her breasts were real? Hello? These are a gift from Mother Nature, not the pharmaceutical company! She was all woman. When he was done trying to buy her every drink in the bar, he'd get the disappointing news.

"Sure."

She flashed the bartender a small smile in thanks when he placed another apple martini in front of her. Taking a sip, she leaned forward, resting her forearms on the bar and waited for Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Dumb to pick up the conversation. Turning her head slightly to look at him, she could've sworn she caught him looking at her breasts. He smiled at her and she saw a light blush highlighting his cheeks.

That smile and those pearly whites he was flashing made her squeeze her legs together. Her pussy began to ache and beg for attention. How good would it feel if he buried his smiling face between her spread thighs and started licking and nipping her bare ... She didn't have time to finish that thought. Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Dumb decided to pick up their conversation.

"I'm Vincent. I don't usually come here that often either. I came tonight as a sort of moral support for..."

Oh, god. She did not need some convoluted made-up story from this guy now. He was hot, but he was here for a reason, and it wasn't to pick up a woman. She needed to nip this in the bud before he got the idea she was the flavor he was looking for.

"Look. I'm not sure what type of impression you have, but I'm a woman. As in, all-natural, no-need-to-consult-your-pharmacist-if-you-have-any-questions, woman. Thank you for the drink. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go find my friend. Have a good evening."

Throwing back the last of her drink, she swiveled on the barstool and prepped herself to hop off the stool. Yes, hop. Being just shy of five feet meant she generally had to hop to get off or on a standard barstool. Pressing the toe of her shoes on the stool rungs she was just ready to push off, when she felt a large warm hand wrap around her upper arm. Paige fought hard against the shiver and electricity she felt jolt through her body at his touch. No man, especially a gay one, should have that kind of effect on a woman.

Whirling on him, she met a pair of eyes that were filled with a fire she hadn't seen earlier. His pulse was visible via a ticking vein along his jaw and he was clenching his teeth. Vincent opened his mouth to speak, but a tap on her shoulder had her tearing her attention away from him. She turned to see Steven and his new companion, standing just behind him. Yanking her arm from Vincent's hold, she smiled at her best friend.

"Steven, what's up?"

He motioned her to lean close and she tuned out the rest of the bar to focus on his whispered words. "Look, I hate to do this to you, Paige, but this guy is so freaking hot. I'm going to split. His brother, Vincent, the guy next to you, is going to make sure you get home all right. Okay?"

Apparently she wasn't the only one attracted to young meat tonight. Looking over Steven's shoulder, Paige sized up the guy waiting for her best friend. He looked handsome, but she didn't feel the pull she was feeling towards the hunk behind her. Keeping her eyes on the man taking Steven home, she whispered her own warning. "You're awfully old to be taking home a young pup for the night. But have fun. I'll call a cab to get home. Thanks for worrying about me. And be safe."

She thought Steven was a little old for taking some kid home for a one-night stand. They were both starting to feel their ages, and maybe Steven just needed to feel young again, if only for a night. Placing a soft kiss on Steven's cheek she settled back on the stool and smiled as he walked out of the bar, arm-in-arm with his man for the night. Searching out the busy bartender, she waved to get his attention and waited for him to make his way towards her.

"Are you having another drink before we go?"

It was that velvety voice again. Washing over her and fluttering along her pussy. Damn, he said we. Not looking at him when she spoke, too afraid of her body's reaction, she answered him. "No, I'm going to get the bartender to call me a cab. Look, Steven may be going home with your brother, but that doesn't mean I have to trust you. For all I know, you could be some psychotic serial killer that's just waiting to have my brains with Chianti and Fava beans."

"If I was just a regular everyday serial killer that had a craving for liver, would that make you feel better?"

Paige tried to give him her best laughter-quelling look, but it didn't work. She couldn't help herself and laughed at his audacity.

He also was like a dog with a damn bone and wouldn't give up. "Come on. Let me drive you home. You don't really know the cab driver either and you would be paying him money to take you home. For all you know, you could be paying the guy that was going to kill you. At least with me, you'd keep your money."

It was that smile again and she couldn't keep herself from saying yes.

"Okay."

Hopping off the stool as gracefully as she could, her heart nearly stopped when Vincent stood next to her.

When they sat next to each other at the bar, Paige had been able to look Vincent in the eye. Now that they were standing, she felt over powered by his presence. He had to be at least six feet tall with a set of broad shoulders that could hold the weight of the world. For the first time in her life Paige felt small and fragile, and she ached to be swept up into Vincent's strong arms. Snap out of it, girl! He thinks you're a transvestite for goodness sake! Fortified by that thought, she squared her shoulders and allowed him to escort her towards the door.

The large hand that had gripped her arm in agitation earlier in the evening was now a soft touch on her lower back. She sucked in a breath when she felt his hand slide over the fabric of her shirt. Up and down in a repeated caress. Caress? If she didn't know better, that's what she'd call it. Vincent was caressing and stroking her back, seducing her with soft, gentle touches.

God, she was pitiful. Walking through a gay bar, escorted by a gay man, and she wanted nothing more than to throw him down and fuck him cross-eyed. Okay, maybe throwing him down was overestimating her abilities a little. She'd politely ask him if he could strip and lay down so she could fuck him cross-eyed.

Stepping through the entrance, they were met with a torrential down pour, common in south Florida that time of year. Heck, any time of year. Paige looked up at Vincent to ask him where his car was, but she didn't get the chance. He leaned down and his lips fluttered along her ear as he whispered to her.

"Stand here, sweets. I'll bring the car around."

With that he was gone, leaving her cold and horny as hell. Paige wrapped her arms around her waist and prayed Vincent would hurry. Even in sunny Florida, it was chilly when it rained. She could feel her nipples bead and harden under her flimsy excuse for a shirt. Cursing herself for her choice for the evening, she rubbed her arms as she continued to wait for Vincent.

Standing near the door she was able to watch as men entered and exited the club, completely oblivious to her presence. Then again, why should they care? Even if they weren't gay, men generally didn't notice the short, plump girl standing off to the side. It was the story of her life.

Growing impatient and colder by the minute, Paige glanced at her watch. Someone chose that moment to bump into her, causing her to stumble off of the steps and out into the rain. As her body was about to hit the ground, two strong arms wrapped around her and she was pulled up against a muscled chest. The scents of cinnamon and male musk surrounded her. Her eyes traveled from the hard chest in front of her to meet the golden eyes she was becoming too familiar with. She didn't have time to think or react. One moment she was standing in the rain being held by a man who was too hot for his own good, and the next she was ensconced in a warm car complete with leather seats toasting her tush.

Sighing, Paige relaxed into the warm leather seat and let her eyes drift close, just resting them for a minute. After four apple martinis, she needed a nap.