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Suit Yourself by Susan Mac Nicol

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Suit Yourself by Susan Mac Nicol

Book Info

Book Series
Men of London #3
About the Author
Susan Mac Nicol is a self confessed bookaholic, an avid watcher of videos of sexy pole dancing men, self confessed geek and nerd and in love with her Smartphone. This little treasure is called ‘the boyfriend’ by her long suffering husband, who says if it vibrated, there’d be no need for him. Susan hasn’t had the heart to tell him there’s an app for that…
She is never happier than when sitting in the confines of her living room/study/on a cold station platform scribbling down words and making two men fall in love. She is a romantic at heart and believes that everything happens (for the most part) for a reason. She likes to think of herself as a ‘half full’ kinda gal, although sometimes that philosophy is sorely tested.
Lover of walks in the forest, theatre productions, dabbling her toes in the cold North Sea and the vibrant city of London where you can experience all four seasons in a day , she is a hater of pantomime (so please don’t tar and feather her), duplicitous people, bigotry and self righteous idiots. 
In an ideal world, Susan Mac Nicol would be Queen of England and banish all the bad people to the Never Never Lands of Wherever -Who Cares. As that’s never going to happen, she contents herself with writing her HEA stories and pretending, that just for a little while, good things happen to good people.
Publication Date
May 21, 2015
Leslie was exactly what Oliver Brown was looking for. The man just didn’t know it yet. Or rather, he knew it but wasn’t ready to act. It was going to be up to Leslie to get things moving along and he decided the time had come to try his luck. 
His foot gently brushed against Oliver’s under the table, and he was gratified when he started, seeing his dinner partner’s eyes heat up as he took a sip from his whisky glass. Leslie took it one step further and ran his booted foot (he hadn’t worn heels tonight, preferring to ease Oliver into that side of him a little more gradually) teasingly along Oliver’s calf. 
His lips curved in a smile that said Leslie was courting trouble. The sight of those rich, pink lips around the rim of the glass, and the amusement in his eyes that said Oliver knew full well what was going on, made Leslie as hard as adamantine. He saw the Nicky Starr persona behind Oliver’s casual lick of his lips; his narrowed eyes were almost alive with hunger. 
“Bit of a twitchy foot, there Leslie?” Oliver said softly, his tone dangerously seductive. “You might need some medication for that condition.” 
“Oh, sorry, did I touch you? My bad. I was just getting…a little uncomfortable. I needed to stretch.” Oliver nodded slowly. Leslie felt the slow stroke of a shoe against his left leg, a gentle sweep that made him want to rip off his clothes and beg Oliver to take him right there. Manfully, he controlled that impulse. Gideon would be as pissed as hell if he didn’t. 
The two men stared at each other over the remains of their dinner, each silently acknowledging that things were changing between them. 
“So,” Oliver drawled as his foot crept slowly up Leslie’s thigh. “Do you think perhaps we should get the bill and get out of here? Backto my place, perhaps?”
Leslie swallowed, finding it hard to speak as that wandering foot nudged his groin. Said groin was on fire. 
“What about the friends thing?” he squeaked, all the while wanting push his crotch into the foot causing him such turmoil. 
Oliver’s mouth curved in a wide, sexy grin. “I kind of think that’s a little passé now, Leslie. I am so damn horny if I don’t have you soon, I’m going to come right here at this table. You have no idea how bloody sexy you look,” he murmured huskily. 
Leslie knew he’d dressed to kill in his tight black jeans with a huge dragon buckle, a tight wine-red tee shirt, teamed with a black suit jacket with fine red stripes. But the lust and desire in Oliver’s eyes made him quail a little. This was a man who had lapped at other men’s arses for a living
and then fucked the daylights out of them. As much as Leslie had his fantasies, he was a little overwhelmed at that thought.

Scarred both physically and emotionally after a motorcycle accident, twenty-five year old ex fashion model and porn star Oliver Brown is about to be stripped bare by flamboyant twink Leslie Scott—and they’ll rebuild love from the bottom up.
Twenty-five year old Oliver Brown is addicted. Two years ago, he was at the height of his career as “Nikki Star,” fashion model, porn actor, partier without peer. Then came the accident. Hiding his scars, both emotional and physical, he’s gone into hiding. But fine clothing is some solace. A new suit by Debussy? Better even than a ride on his motorcycle Hulk or all the things he used to give and take on camera.
Enter Leslie Scott, the flamboyant, dark-haired, heel-and-tiny-short-wearing twink sent to deliver Oliver’s newest fix. A firecracker, Leslie is dapper, generous, in touch with his feminine side but all man, and as gorgeous as any garment ever made. He makes Oliver dream of ending his reclusion, of recapturing a future forever denied him. But for that to happen, Leslie would have to strip him to the bone. Only then will they rebuild life from the bottom up.

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