 by Helen Hardt.jpg)
Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 87629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Amanda Thomas is hopelessly in love with Jackson Paris, but he will never see her as anything more than his sweet and innocent bestie. After being virgin-adjacent for too long, Mandy is officially ready to move on. She wants to learn about hot, dirty sex, so she joins an online dating app where the enigmatic Mr. Dark promises to fulfill all of her wicked fantasies...
Jackson Paris has been keeping secrets from his stunning, too-innocent best friend—like forbidden sexual proclivities and his membership at the exclusive Black Rose Underground club. But Mandy has decided she needs an education—the filthy kind. As Mr. Dark, Jackson can safely give her a taste of what she wants—and deter her from pursuing more—without revealing his identity.
But in the dim, provocative atmosphere of Black Rose Underground, there are no secrets. Here, every wicked appetite is satisfied. And for the first time, Mandy will discover who her best friend really is...just in time to shock him with a secret of her own.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
Amanda
My sister, Frankie—short for Francesca—has two settings. High and low. Either she’s going to have incredibly good news or incredibly bad news when she calls. So when her name and number pop up on my buzzing cell phone, my stomach sinks and I assume the worst. If it ends up being good news, it’s a relief. And if it’s bad news, at least I’m a little prepared.
I sigh. I have a headache after staring at my computer screen for ten hours—an average day on the job for me, but now that I’m mentally playing “guess that phone call,” the pain feels sharper.
Relax. It can’t be worse than when she called to say Mom was rushed to the hospital.
Can it?
I look at her name pulsing on my phone screen in time with my pounding head and pick up the call.
“Hey, Frank,” I say into the phone, trying to keep my voice light.
“Mandy, you’re never going to guess what happened!” she squeals.
Good news, then. Thank God. I lean back in my chair, relief washing over me in a pleasant rush.
“You’re right, I’ll never guess,” I say and rub my temple. “So just tell me. What’s up?”
“Penn proposed last night! We’re getting married!”
And just like that, my relief turns to anxiety again.
Pendleton Berry is Frankie’s on-again, off-again significant other. He’s also an overgrown frat brat who sells software systems but actually lives off a trust fund from his grandfather. He and Frankie have been together for more than five years—but with all the breakups, they’ve probably only been together around half of that.
Am I supposed to take this seriously? Maybe, because this is the first time the man actually proposed to her.
Frankie is younger than I am by two years. Even so, she gets everything first. Seriously. She even started menstruating before I did. She was twelve and I was fourteen. Sure, I got the curse a month later, but still, she had to show me up. I was an awkward kid, introverted and hardly athletically inclined. Frankie even learned to ride a bike before I did.
I love my sister, but now that I’m pushing thirty? This shit is getting old.
She’s going to get married, and I don’t even have any prospects.
And if I’m honest with myself? I don’t want any prospects, because I’m hopelessly in love with the one man I’ll never have. But now’s not the time to focus on that one problem. My sister just dropped a bombshell and is likely waiting on me to share her excitement.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Frankie asks.
I inject as much enthusiasm as I can into my voice. “That’s great, Frank. Really.”
She scoffs. “Don’t increase your heart rate or anything, Mandy.”
“I’m sorry. I’m happy for you. Really.” Do I sound sincere? Part of me truly is sincere. I don’t wish anything bad on Frankie. I adore my sister and want her to be happy. I’m just not sure Penn Berry is the man who can achieve that.
“I’m thrilled! We’re so happy,” she gushes.
“That’s great, Frank.”
“You just said that, Mandy.”
“Did I? See? I really mean it.”
And I do. Like I said, part of me is truly sincere. Part of me is jealous as all hell. Then that third part of me—the part that would fight to the death anyone who hurt my sister—is worried. She and Penn haven’t had the most stable relationship.
“Sometimes I didn’t think this would ever happen,” Frankie continues. “Things have always been so volatile between Penn and me. But these last six months, everything’s been so great.”
“That’s awesome.”
“You’ll be my maid of honor, of course,” she continues. “And next, I have to call Isabella and Gigi.”
Isabella and Gigi—Frankie’s besties.
As an introvert, I don’t make friends easily. I never have. And since my job as a virtual assistant keeps me behind a computer all day, I don’t have a chance to remedy the situation. I’m happy alone, to be honest. Life is safer that way, and I have always taken the safe route. I don’t need friends.
Well, except for one.
Jackson Paris has been my best friend since we were both in diapers.
He still is my best friend—on his side anyway. On my side? He’s my closest friend in the world. But inconveniently, he’s also the guy I’ve been hopelessly in love with most of my life.
To him, I’m as sexually interesting as a sack of potatoes. At least that’s how it’s felt over the years, when he’s never once looked at me with an ounce of interest or heat.
Unfortunately, I began to see him as something more than a friend when we were in high school. He was busy growing into a gorgeous jock and captain of the football team who of course only dated cheerleaders. I used to tease him that he was a walking cliché, but he’d just wink and say that’s not what he’d call what he did with insert girl’s name here last night.