Sex And Other Shiny Objects
Lauren Blakely
Contents
Also by Lauren Blakely
About
Sex And Other Shiny Objects
1. Peyton
2. Tristan
3. Peyton
4. Tristan
5. Peyton
6. Peyton
7. Peyton
8. Tristan
9. Peyton
10. Peyton
11. Tristan
12. Peyton
13. Tristan
14. Peyton
15. Peyton
16. Tristan
17. Peyton
18. Peyton
19. Tristan
20. Peyton
21. Peyton
22. Tristan
23. Peyton
24. Peyton
25. Tristan
26. Peyton
27. Tristan
28. Peyton
29. Tristan
30. Peyton
31. Tristan
32. Peyton
33. Tristan
34. Peyton
Epilogue
Another Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Also by Lauren Blakely
Contact
Copyright © 2020 by Lauren Blakely
Cover Design by Helen Williams. 1st Edition, 2020
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This contemporary romance is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This book is licensed for your personal use only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with, especially if you enjoy sexy romance novels with alpha males. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Also by Lauren Blakely
Big Rock Series
Big Rock
Mister O
Well Hung
Full Package
Joy Ride
Hard Wood
The Gift Series
The Engagement Gift
The Virgin Gift
The Decadent Gift
The Heartbreakers Series
Once Upon a Real Good Time
Once Upon a Sure Thing
Once Upon a Wild Fling
Boyfriend Material
Asking For a Friend
Sex and Other Shiny Objects
One Night Stand-In
Lucky In Love Series
Best Laid Plans
The Feel Good Factor
Nobody Does It Better
Unzipped
Always Satisfied Series
Satisfaction Guaranteed
Instant Gratification
Overnight Service
Never Have I Ever
Special Delivery
The Sexy Suit Series
Lucky Suit
Birthday Suit
From Paris With Love
Wanderlust
Part-Time Lover
One Love Series
The Sexy One
The Only One
The Hot One
The Knocked Up Plan
Come As You Are
Sports Romance
Most Valuable Playboy
Most Likely to Score
Standalones
Stud Finder
The V Card
The Real Deal
Unbreak My Heart
The Break-Up Album
21 Stolen Kisses
Out of Bounds
The Caught Up in Love Series:
The Swoony New Reboot of the Contemporary Romance Series
The Pretending Plot (previously called Pretending He’s Mine)
The Dating Proposal
The Second Chance Plan (previously called Caught Up In Us)
The Private Rehearsal (previously called Playing With Her Heart)
Stars In Their Eyes Duet
My Charming Rival
My Sexy Rival
The No Regrets Series
The Thrill of It
The Start of Us
Every Second With You
The Seductive Nights Series
First Night (Julia and Clay, prequel novella)
Night After Night (Julia and Clay, book one)
After This Night (Julia and Clay, book two)
One More Night (Julia and Clay, book three)
A Wildly Seductive Night (Julia and Clay novella, book 3.5)
The Joy Delivered Duet
Nights With Him (A standalone novel about Michelle and Jack)
Forbidden Nights (A standalone novel about Nate and Casey)
The Sinful Nights Series
Sweet Sinful Nights
Sinful Desire
Sinful Longing
Sinful Love
The Fighting Fire Series
Burn For Me (Smith and Jamie)
Melt for Him (Megan and Becker)
Consumed By You (Travis and Cara)
The Jewel Series
A two-book sexy contemporary romance series
The Sapphire Affair
The Sapphire Heist
About
The second the test-the-sexy-scenes offer landed in my lap, I said yes.
After all, I've been damn curious about a few things I've read in romance novels. Do buttons truly go flying across the floor when you rip off a guy's shirt? Is staircase sex hella hot or does it leave you with a big old bruise mark on your back? And don't even get me started on all that panty shredding, and whether it even works.
Time to find out as I embark on Project Sexy Scenes Research, at the request of my hotshot book editor bestie.
All I need is a willing scene partner. Enter Tristan, my best guy friend. The witty, tell-it-like-it-is, bearded hottie volunteers for the experiment.
He's also the guy who gave me the most devastating, toe-curling kiss of my life ten years ago. But nothing has happened since then.
And nothing will come between my panties and our friendship now since we have a plan to keep it PG.
But once the buttons start flying, all bets are off...
Sex And Other Shiny Objects
By Lauren Blakely
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1
Peyton
There’s just something about white lace.
Though red lace is delicious too.
And I can’t forget about pink lace.
Who am I kidding? From satin to silk to cotton, every shade and every style, it all entices me.
There is nothing quite like lingerie to make a girl feel pretty.
My grandma instilled in me this appreciation for intimates. An elegant aficionado of both class and undies, she took me shopping for my
first bra when I was thirteen—a white cotton number with lacy embroidery. Lace and I fell in love at first touch, and I haven’t looked back since.
My grandmother also taught me the most important thing to remember when choosing indulgent undergarments: “Whoever said sexy lingerie was more for the man seeing it than the woman wearing it had it all backward.”
Or, put another way, if you buy a Kelly-green panty and bra set, it damn well better be because you love St. Patrick’s Day.
For you.
As one of my semi-regular customers tries on the matching set, I’m hoping the confident and brainy Daniella is keen on all things Irish for her underthings.
From the privacy of the dressing room suite in the back of my Madison Avenue boutique, she shouts out to me, even though I’m only feet away, sorting through an order of bustiers. “Peyton, I need your prediction. What is the likely outcome of me wearing this set?”
“Let’s see what we’re working with.” I set the gorgeous black satin darlings in their box as Daniella opens the scalloped door a smidge.
A nagging worry pricks at the back of my mind, since she’s not a shy woman.
She nudges the door the rest of the way.
She giggles, and my Spidey senses tingle again. Daniella isn’t a giggler. She’s chatty and analytical, a statistician who loves to talk about outcomes and probabilities, not the type who titters demurely at a compliment.
Hmm.
If this color and this style make her giggle, is it right for her? I don’t want her to go home with something that makes her feel anything less than fabulous. Some women love bright green. Others do not. And if Daniella’s not enamored, this lush ensemble will wind up in the back of the drawer, aka the lingerie graveyard. It’s a fate no sexy underthings should suffer.
And it’s not good for the peddlers of them. Let a customer go home with something she won’t wear, and you might as well say sayonara to that client.
So, for both our sakes, I pose the key question. “How does it make you feel?”
With the door open, she regards herself in the mirror inside her dressing room. “It’s an odd color, but Jamie says he loves this shade of green because of . . .”
I wonder what goes in the blank that she hesitates to say.
Money?
Christmas?
Wait. No. I’ve got it.
“The Green Lantern!”
She swivels around, her jaw falling to the plush rose carpet of my shop. “How did you guess?”
I smile, because now we’re getting to the heart of the matter. “I can tell you, but you’re going to have to keep it a secret. Pinky swear?”
Her eyes glitter with the promise of intel. “Of course.”
I cup my mouth, whispering, “I have lingerie ESP. It skips a generation, but it’s passed on through the women in my family.”
She laughs, then gestures to her pile of clothes on the pink cushion in the corner of the dressing room. The top item is a pair of gray panties that look like they’ve seen five too many years. “As you can probably tell, I don’t have any predictive power of the sort. But seriously, did I tell you about his Green Lantern obsession last time I was here?”
I shake my head. “No, but you did mention his predilection for comic books the other week. You said he likes it when you dress up as Wonder Woman, right?”
“He’s obsessed with her,” she says in a whisper, then shudders, like the thought makes her skin crawl. “And that’s the heart of the issue right there. He wants to rip my panties off when I wear red and blue. I bought a pair of bright-red satin panties last time, and I wore chunky gold bracelets on my wrists to complete the look. He went crazy for it.”
“And do you love that?”
She shrugs, a disinterested look in her eyes. “It’s not really my thing, nor are ripped panties, because . . . hello! All I can see are numbers, numbers, numbers of how much money I’m setting on fire. Can you say ‘expensive habit’?” She fiddles with her bra strap. “But aren’t relationships about give and take?”
“Of course. But the underwear is on your body. Turn around. Look in the mirror. And tell me how you feel in this set.”
She screws up the corner of her lips and makes a strange clucking sound as she regards her reflection. One eyebrow lifts. Then the other. She narrows her gaze then gasps, horrified. “I’m the Keebler elf.”
I clutch my belly, laughing, till I collect myself. “First of all, you don’t look like the Keebler elf. He wears red and yellow with his green jacket, and I would never let you pair those colors.”
“You are a good woman to look out for potential color mishaps.”
Smiling, I meet her gaze. “However, if you feel like the Keebler elf, then the question is—is that what you want? If so, I say to each her own fetish and kink, and nom-nom-nom.”
She cringes, shaking her head. “I’m all for kink, but I assure you, a little elfin magic doesn’t go a long way for this girl. Or any way, for that matter.” She appraises herself once more, studying her reflection. “Nor does leprechaun kink. Admit it: I kind of look like I’m about to skip over the rainbow with a pot of gold.”
I laugh, flicking my red hair. “Preach, sister. I can’t wear green lingerie for that same reason. And it’s a shame, because I love emerald, but I also love sapphire, so I wear that instead.”
“For your . . .?”
She waits for me to fill in the dots—husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, lover.
I shake my head. “I’ve been single for some time now, but that doesn’t stop my lingerie habit. I wear sexy undies every day because they make me feel fabulous. And I suspect they’ve played their part in making me feel like I’m finally ready to date again. But listen, I’m willing to bet that your guy doesn’t actually care what color your panties are.”
“You think he’ll be fine without the Green Lantern thing?”
I smile softly. “If he loves you for you, and I bet he does, he’ll be happy if you’re happy. Because pretty panties don’t have to be for him. They’re about what you like. What type of panties make you want to march up to him and rip off his shirt?”
“That’s a smart way to look at it. What does get me going?” She repeats the question like she’s thinking about it for the first time. “Besides, of course, when he cleans the kitchen and the bathroom.”
“That’s a turn-on, for sure. Keep thinking along those lines. And when it comes to lingerie, ask what style gives you the confidence of Athena? What look makes you imagine you’re a Botticelli? For some women, it is green lingerie. For others, it’s sapphire or ruby. I could bring you a cranberry-red set if you want.”
She shakes her head, and I keep going.
“Some prefer sheer nude. Others feel sexiest in a sports bra. Maybe it’s a cami and a tank and boy shorts. Or perhaps it’s a festive little novelty set.”
She points at me excitedly, like she’s found the winner in three-card monte. “Yes. That.”
I had a feeling I’d pique her interest. She likes unconventional answers, and I bet she’d want unconventional underwear. “Would you say you like numbers?”
“However did you know?” she asks dryly.
“Just a lucky guess,” I tease. “Okay, I’ve been on the hunt for some fun patterns. Let me grab something from a shipment that came in the other day that I think is perfect for you. I suspect you’re a big fan of purple.”
“Is that your lingerie ESP again?”
My eyes drift down to her handbag. It’s a bright shade of eggplant. “Or it could be that your purse was the giveaway.”
“Look at you, using observable possibilities.”
I curtsy. “But let’s make sure you like it first.” I step toward the back of the shop, then I stop, going for the pièce de résistance—the proof that I will always put my money where my ESP is. “And if you don’t feel gorgeous
in this set, your next purchase is on me.”
Her eyes pop. “Whoa. Thank you.”
I send a silent wish to Grandma Mimi that I’m not wrong here with my lingerie magic eight ball as I fetch the items I have in mind from a box in the back. As I pass, I glance toward the shop floor where my sales assistant, Marley, is gift-wrapping a purchase for a woman in a camel trench coat. I bet it’s red and lacy.
I return to the dressing room and hand the silky items to Daniella.
A minute later, she gushes her praise from inside the room. “This. Is. So. Me.”
Yes. That’s what I want to hear—her own confidence in what she wears underneath her clothes.
That’s what matters. She doesn’t even need my seal of approval as long as she’s given it to herself.
She opens the door and strikes a ta-da pose, owning it. The lavender bra and panties decorated with numbers, formulas, and mathematical symbols fit her personality like a glove.
“There is a one-hundred-percent chance of me loving this and feeling hot in it.”