Hi Everyone! My name is Paul and I’m a recovering sex addict...
Paul McNeill loves sex. Good sex. Bad sex. Oral sex. Any kind of sex.
You name it; he loves it. But Paul's biggest passion is his greatest
flaw. As a recovering sex addict, he's been abstaining and managing his
addiction for over two years. Now, all he wants is to fall in love and
find that certain someone he can settle down with.
But when he finds himself on his knees on Elle Jacoby’s damp lawn, he
knows there's going to be trouble. Elle quickly becomes Paul's biggest
challenge yet. She's instantly set him ablaze while he begs to be hosed
down. As he gets to know her more, the flames burn even hotter.
How can he resist a hot divorcee who's amped up to have all the fun she's missed?
“So is sex really all that matters to you?” I ask Elle.
She glides her fingers along the curve of the beer bottle before looking
up at me with a coy smile. “Maybe it won’t be when I finally get some
Oh, good Lord. How much restraint can one man be expected to have?
I let out a sigh of regret. “Well, I’d love to help you out but I don’t do casual sex. Been there, done that.”
I square my shoulders after making my declaration. After almost two
years of following my abstinence program, I can say I’m confident I’ve
moved on from my sex-obsessed ways, but it still makes me cringe with a
sense of loss after the words leave
She pounds her fists on the table. “My timing is always shit. So if I’d
met you during your been there period you would’ve screwed me?”
“Without a doubt. Screwed is too simple of a word for all the things I would have done to you.”
I take a deep breath and glance over my shoulder at the kitchen layout.
“I’d have you bent over your kitchen island as we fucked, or your legs
would be wrapped around me as I took you against that wall.”
“You’re killing me here! Are you good in bed?”
“Good?” I smile, remembering those days. “That wasn’t the adjective most women used. What do you think?”
“My guess is a big fat yes.”
Leaning back, I stretch out my legs under the table. “Let’s just say,
back in the day . . . I’m not ashamed to say I did all right.”
She huffs and folds her arms over her chest. “I bet you did. And I bet you have a big cock too.”
Good Lord, no more beer for her.
My eyes roll back. “You’ve got a filthy mouth.”
“So what. Do you?”
“Have a big cock? Is this information you really need to know?”
She looks down under the table. “Ha! You’ve got big feet!”
Jesus, this woman.
“And you’re so tall.” She grabs my hand. “And you’ve got thick fingers. You know what they say . . .”
I watch her trail her fingers over mine as she gives me a sultry wink.
I lean over, and whisper into her ear, “I’ve got a huge cock.”
She looks drunk with lust as she bites her lip. “Hung like a horse?” she whispers.
“Oh for God’s sake.” She scoots her chair closer. “Show me.” Her eyes
are twinkling, yet it’s hard to tell if she’s teasing or not.
“Yeah, sure.” I take a long draw from my second beer.
“Come on,” she presses, seeming hopeful.
“Well, besides the fact that that would be a complete
violation of my new lifestyle, I’m hard right now. I don’t want to scare
“Ooo,” she moans. Her cheeks grow pink as she picks at the label on her
beer bottle. She tries to peek under the table. “So are you really hard,
or are you messing with me?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” I wink at her and set down my beer. “But I’ve got to
go. I’ve got another client’s system to check out, since I’m the
sprinkler man and all.”