Hanging On 2: Surreal Neal [Awakenings 6] (Siren Publishing Menage and More)

BOOK: Hanging On 2: Surreal Neal [Awakenings 6] (Siren Publishing Menage and More)
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Awakenings 6

Hanging On 2: Surreal Neal

Sophia DiMarco and Drew Snow have everything they could possibly want--wealth, property, and true love. So why do they keep inviting thirds into their bedroom? It's the only way for Sophia to spend time with a submissive and for Drew to scratch his itch for having a man in his bed.

Neal Purcell isn't looking to tie himself down to anybody again, especially those with money to throw around and a dominant streak. He's been hurt badly, and now he only wants to focus on his career as an up-and-coming chef.

When Sophia and Drew hire Neal to work at Sensual Secrets, they have a hard time keeping their thoughts on business. Neal figures he's safe from emotional entanglement with a married couple, so he proposes a casual fling.

Can the three of them overcome the obstacles to find happiness together?

Note: This book is written in first-person point of view.

Genre:
BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

Length:
81,306 words
 

HANGING ON 2: SURREAL NEAL

 

Awakenings 6

 

 

 

 

 

Michele Zurlo

 

 

 

 

 

 

MENAGE AND MORE

 

 

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Ménage and More

 

 

HANGING ON 2: SURREAL NEAL

Copyright © 2013 by Michele Zurlo

E-book ISBN:
978-1-62740-451-8

 

First E-book Publication: September 2013

 

Cover design by Harris Channing

All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

 

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

 

 

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

 

Dear Readers,

 

If you have purchased this copy of
 
Hanging On 2: Surreal Neal
 
by Michele Zurlo from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

 

 

Regarding E-book Piracy

 

This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

 

The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

 

This is Michele Zurlo’s livelihood.
 
It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Zurlo’s right to earn a living from her work.

 

Amanda Hilton, Publisher

www.SirenPublishing.com

www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION

 

 

I’d like to thank my
wonderful
beta readers: Michelle PM, Michelle MM, Sylvia C, and Kelly S. Feedback from you four made all the difference!

To my readers: Though this novel stands alone, you’ll understand Drew and Sophie a lot better if you’ve read
Hanging On
.

Lastly, to Eric: Thanks for letting me use the name of your fake Neil Diamond cover band for this novel’s title.

Table of Contents

HANGING ON 2: SURREAL NEAL

Awakenings 6

 

MICHELE ZURLO

Copyright © 2013

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Sophia

 

I had never seen so much body glitter in one place. People had it in their hair, around their eyes, on their lips. Women slathered it across their breasts and chests. Though it did highlight those sexy curves, these people made 80’s glam look tame. Even Drew had glitter down the right side of his shirt from hugging friends and fans.

I made my way around the room slowly. A few people voiced a greeting, but nobody bothered me. After all, I wasn’t an attraction. I was the wife of an attraction. Even those few who had smiled and nodded didn’t recognize me. They were the types who were hoping I was somebody high up in the network, but I wasn’t in the television business. Besides, the room was too full of food-related celebrities for someone like me to garner any attention.

And that was just fine. It was sometimes a little lonely, especially when someone from the network stopped me to engage in small talk. They liked to maintain the illusion of a family atmosphere, but I had trouble buying into the false front. While I liked the people I met, most of whom had been instrumental in advancing Drew’s career, there was no substitute for actual family. I come from a close-knit family. I’m very close to my parents and my brother’s family. Since I’d been with Drew, I’d become close to his parents and sister as well.

I also had a network of good friends, one of whom was here tonight, though I couldn’t seem to find Ginny anywhere. Ginny was Drew’s best friend and business partner. Her wife Lara rarely traveled for these ostentatious events. She was always there to support Ginny in a competition, but she hated glitter and glittery events.

Those things didn’t bother me, but they didn’t impress me either. Personally, I avoided it because the little metallic flecks always seemed to end up where I least wanted them. After being hugged by the enthusiastic French pastry chef, I had fled to the restroom to remove a stubborn flake from my eye.

When I was ten feet away from Drew, I stopped to watch. A throng of people surrounded him, both genders drawn by his supermodel good looks and his genuine personality. He was gifted at networking, which awed me a little. After four years together, I still wondered what such a handsome, charismatic man wanted with me. Outside of my comfort zone, I was shy and reserved. I hid behind a veneer of ice.

Perhaps that’s why we worked as a couple. I had no desire for the spotlight and he liked to regularly bask in it.

He glanced up, zeroing in on me immediately. The smile on his face shifted subtly, taking on a bit of a sinful quality. He reached through the throng to take my hand, and guided me to his side. “And here’s my lovely wife, Sophie.”

People murmured greetings, and some of them didn’t mask their disappointment. For some reason, people regularly assumed Drew was single. He always wore his wedding ring, and pictures from our wedding appeared on his website. Our cake was featured on the pastry homepage. It wasn’t like he hid this part of his private life. I pasted on my public smile and tried not to laugh as I gave a polite response.

He put his arm around my waist and tucked me a little closer than decency dictated. Some of the hangers-on got the message and drifted off. I felt the minute release of some of his tension the moment the crowd shrank.

“What do you say we get out of here?” He planted a kiss on my neck just below my ear.

While I would like nothing more than to get him alone—I hadn’t seen him in three days—they hadn’t given away the awards yet. It was the reason I had flown to Atlanta instead of waiting another day for him to return from this string of appearances.

I laughed. “We can’t leave. You’re one of the guests being honored tonight.”

He growled and nipped at my earlobe. “How about we sneak away for a quickie? We haven’t had sex for three days. I have a lot pent-up lust to release on you.”

I did as well, so I scanned the exits, looking for a likely avenue of escape.

Drew took my hand and led me toward the back of the convention center. “I know the perfect place.”

I expected him to lead me through the kitchen, which was the place where he felt the most comfortable at any party. However, the path he selected led to a hallway. The banging of cookware and the shouts of voices came from a door on one side. Silence came from the other doors. Two were marked as employee restrooms. Drew hurried past them and pushed through the door at the other end.

It was a deserted break room.

“No breaks until after dinner service.” Drew grinned at his genius as he guided me to an alcove in the back. Hooks lined the walls. Some had jackets or bags hanging from them. He brought my hand up and kissed the back. “‘How now, spirit! Whither wander you?’”

I laughed, a husky sound, at his use of a line from our favorite Shakespeare play.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
had been the theme of our wedding. I answered his line with one of my own. “‘Over hill, over dale,’ through airport security, ‘I do wander everywhere.’”

He shoved me against the wall and kissed me hungrily. I returned his fervent passion, running my hands over his shoulders and down his chest. We had video messaged and had engaged in cybersex, but I had missed the solid, warm feel of him under my hands.

I cupped his cock through his pants. Hard and ready, he ground against my palm. I loosened his buckle, and he lifted my dress. This was going to be quick and dirty.

His purposeful caress moved over my hips, but he found nothing. Surprised, he broke the endless kiss. “Did you go commando for me?”

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