Jana Aston – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Jana Aston – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Fri, 09 Dec 2022 21:38:06 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Jana Aston – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Central Park Read Online Jana Aston http://www.books2020.com/central-park-read-online-jana-aston Wed, 02 Nov 2022 21:50:15 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/central-park-read-online-jana-aston Genre: Funny, Insta-Love, Romance Authors: Jana Aston Advertisement

Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)

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To make it in New York, you need a lucky break or two.

And I really, really, need a little luck. So when I land a new job as a nanny, I take it as a sign that my leap of faith move to New York is finally paying off.

Until I show up for my first day only to discover there’s no baby.

That’s right.

Due to a mix-up, I’ve been hired as a nanny and placed with… a childless bachelor. A childless bachelor who seems to think this entire situation is charmingly amusing.

Trust me, I’m not amused. I’m broke.

And I’m keeping this job, baby or not.

*Central Park is a novella, approximately 100 pages
*Central Park was previously published in an anthology

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

They really should make it clearer that the reality of living in New York is nothing like it appears.

Before I moved here, all I had for reference was every movie and TV show ever made that showed this city as the most beautiful, magical place. I had visions of Sarah Jessica Parker strutting down the concrete sidewalks in her Manolos without a care for sewer grates. Or tripping.

Fun, glamorous, and packed wall-to-wall with gorgeous, well-dressed people. In the television version of this city, you’d be handed the New York starter pack upon arrival: a chic coat, a French Bulldog, a how-to guide for flagging down a cab, and an entry level office job that somehow allowed you to pay for it all.

I knew it wasn’t exactly like that, of course. My best friend Lauren moved here last year and she told me what to expect. We went to the University of Iowa together. Iowa, by the way, is exactly the way you imagine it is. Full of cornfields and the occasional Wal-Mart. There’s not a lot to do in Iowa City outside of football games and college bars. Unless it’s winter, in which case there’s absolutely nothing to do but stay inside and read with your pasty librarian friends. And look, I’m not shading librarians here. Or the snow, or even corn. I love reading more than I love breathing—it is, after all, why I am pursuing a master’s in library science—but a girl needs a little excitement in life. Living vicariously through heroines who chase their dreams is fantastic, but it isn’t enough, at least not for me. I want my own adventure.

I’d always had a bit of a crush on the idea of New York. And when Lauren moved here last year, and managed to make it work despite everything she went through, it gave me hope that the city could be magical for me too. She moved for her boyfriend, only to find out their relationship wasn’t exactly exclusive. Because he’d been cheating on her. But did she let that defeat her? Did she pack her bags and head back to Iowa? No. She found a job and an apartment and she survived in one of the biggest, most intense cities in the world. She also replaced her cheating ex with a very eligible bachelor. And then she married him. That’s Lauren. Fearless.

I wanted to be fearless too. So I applied at grad schools all over the country, but NYU was the dream. I mean, have you seen the New York Public Library? Swoon. And the bookstores, everything from the big chains to specialty independent shops. I could envision myself so clearly, sitting in the main branch of the New York Public Library, people-watching while studying. The idea of experiencing New York while getting my master’s, well, it was enticing.

So when I got in—and then Lauren eloped and vacated a spot in her apartment—I knew I had my chance. My chance to tackle the big city, to take a bite out of the Big Apple.

I know, I know. I was basically chasing every New York cliché known to humankind. I should have prepared more. I should have turned off the Sex and the City marathon and watched a documentary. Or studied the subway map. Something. But even if I had, nothing would’ve prepared me for living here.

Because New York? It’s not all Manolos and sexy taxi rides. And the apartments? Well. It’s definitely nothing like you see on TV.

“This is why we have bunk beds,” my roommate, Allison, explained when I first arrived. I mean, sure, Lauren had mentioned the apartment was small. She’d mentioned four girls were sharing a one bedroom apartment. I knew that going in. But I was still living my New York daydreams back then.

“You’ll get used to it,” another of the roommates, Bridget, had added, all while she fought with the ancient sink in the kitchen that was, essentially, a stone’s throw from said bedroom.

Look, I’m not the kind of girl who needs much. As long as I have a cozy place to read, decent lighting and a snack, I’m good. But it was still a shock.

At least, like I said, my roommates are great. Allison’s a fitness model, meaning she brings home lots of activewear and water bottles and shake mix samples that she’s happy to share with the rest of us. And Bridget’s a flight attendant, meaning she keeps us all entertained with endless stories about people trying—and often failing—to make it into the Mile-High Club. And Delaney makes jewelry that she pitches to boutiques, resulting in lots of cool pieces to borrow.

The real issue in New York is affording it.

Of course the prices are higher on everything. You expect it. A few dollars here, twenty dollars there. But it all keeps adding up. The rent for my bunk bed is astronomical, and NYU? Well, let’s just say their scholarship package wasn’t exactly generous. Meanwhile, my shitty job at Cups of Joe has not, apparently, heard of inflation, nor have they heard of human decency… but that’s not the point.

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Advertisement The Next Mrs Russo Read Online Jana Aston http://www.books2020.com/the-next-mrs-russo-read-online-jana-aston Fri, 25 Jun 2021 21:55:13 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-next-mrs-russo-read-online-jana-aston Genre: Contemporary, Funny, Romance Authors: Jana Aston Advertisement

Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >85

Read Online Books/Novels:	The Next Mrs Russo
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jana Aston
Language:	English
Book Information:
I was not looking for a date. Another questionable relationship was the last thing I needed. Because trust me, they were all questionable. But through a series of unfortunate events involving my cat and his poor decision-making skills, I agreed to a set-up. Except… the set-up is with the governor. I am not political girlfriend material. For one, I’m a little bit crazy. For two, I have secrets. But I also have a big crush on the governor. One little date can’t hurt, right? Spoiler: it can. My big crush is going to end in big trouble.
Books by Author:	Jana Aston

Chapter One

Everyone has to start somewhere. A first step. A first sentence. A first kiss. We all start over too. Every day is a do-over, in a way.

Every time you think you’ve had your last first, you’re proven wrong. Which is exhilarating, if you think about it from the right perspective. I’m working on that. My perspective.

My perspective would be brighter if I wasn’t broke.

What I need is a sale. Desperately.

The fashion scene in Albany isn’t what it was in New York City. Shocker, I know.

Cost of living is cheaper though, by about a bajillion dollars. And it’s a new first step. Besides, online is where it’s at in vintage clothing rehab. I know, I know. That’s not exactly a thing. Yet. But it should be. Giving new life to vintage clothing is my passion.

I like old stuff and fresh starts, I guess. Bolts of brand-new fabric do nothing to inspire me. But an old suit with shoulder pads from the 1990’s? A vintage designer gown from the 1980’s?

The potential is almost enough to get me off.

A seam ripper, my sewing machine, a dash of inspiration and slam bam, that garment hiding in the back of Grandma’s closet becomes a one-of-a-kind custom, treasured piece, instead of languishing in a resale shop forever. Or, worse, being dumped in a landfill.

It’s hard to find an audience for one-of-a-kind custom pieces though. So until I can build a name for myself online, I’ve created a little boutique in the first floor of my brownstone.

Sure, a shop in the Hamptons would have been a better move after I fled the city, but unfortunately this brownstone I inherited is in Albany, so here I am. Does that sound charming and romantic? A historic brownstone in one of the oldest cities in America? It’s not. It’s Albany. It might be the capital of New York State, but everyone knows New York City is the capital of the world, fashion and otherwise.

And this brownstone is a money pit I can’t sell. The first floor I’m using as a shop isn’t terrible. Hardwood floors and vintage wood trim never go out of style. The kitchen and bathroom, however… yeah, don’t ask. Sadly, my skillset at renovating old stuff doesn’t extend to anything requiring a power saw or a sledgehammer.

But it’s fine. This is just a first step.

And my best customer is trying on something I redesigned with her in mind. By best customer, I mean this is her third time in my store. I caught her eyeing a vintage gown on her last visit and I pounced on the opportunity.

“It’s awfully outdated, darling,” she said while fingering the fabric wistfully.

“I can fix it,” I promised her. “Tear it apart and make you something brand-new.”

“Tearing apart a vintage Valentino seems a bit tragic though, doesn’t it?” She eyed me speculatively, as if to ascertain whether I was up to the task or simply a crazy person.

“Well, there’s a huge rip in the fabric here,” I pointed out, “and the hem is stained beyond fixing. No one is ever going to wear it again like this anyway, so we’d be doing the dress a favor.”

“Hmm,” she hummed while glancing over the offending imperfections, “you’re not wrong.” Then she added the magic words I longed to hear. “I’ll be back in a week.”

She’s trying on the dress right now and I’m pacing across my shop floor, waiting to hear her verdict. I tore it apart and turned it into a cocktail dress. It’s unrecognizable from where the dress started, mid-calf length with a tasteful v-neckline. I added a trail of hand-stitched sequins around the collar. They’ll catch the light perfectly and if Mrs Bianchi doesn’t love it… well, it’s fine. I can sell it online. But I’d prefer a quick sale right now with a built-in repeat customer. One who might have friends also in need of dresses.

Nothing but silence from the fitting room.

I fidget. Exhale.

“What you need is a man.”

I side-eye my assistant. He’s not really my assistant, because I didn’t hire him and I don’t pay him. But he keeps telling people he’s my assistant and he won’t go away, so there you have it. “Ugh, gross. Miller, the last thing I need is a man. Also, you’re fired.”

“I don’t actually work here, so you can’t fire me.” He flips through a rack of vintage St John I picked up over the weekend at an estate sale. “You need a man,” he begins again but I cut him off before he gets the chance.

“I do not need a man.” I place emphasis on the word need, then I drop the side-eye in order to turn and glare at him head on. “And that was really sexist. Like I need a date to fill some void in my life? Please. I expect better from your generation.” I don’t attempt to hide my eye roll.

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Advertisement Fling Read Online Free Books by Jana Aston (Wrong #2.5) http://www.books2020.com/fling-read-online-jana-aston Tue, 16 Aug 2016 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/fling-read-online-jana-aston Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Funny, New Adult, Romance Authors: Jana Aston Series: Wrong Series by Jana Aston
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Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >25

Read Online Books/Novels:	Fling (Wrong #2.5)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jana Aston
Language:	English
Book Information:
I have a crush on my boss’ best friend. At least it’s not my brother’s best friend. Or my best friend’s brother. Or… never mind. It’s all pretty cliche. And worse? My boss’ best friend is his business partner. Which sort of makes him my boss too. Okay - it’s not sort of. It’s definite. Gabe Laurent is off limits. Totally off limits. Which is fine. I make do with my imagination. He’ll never know. Ever. Unless my work bestie passes me an eighties-style teen movie sex quiz during a meeting and I fill it out. And it ends up in Gabe’s hands…
Books in Series:	Wrong Series by Jana Aston
Books by Author:	Jana Aston Books

One

Sandra

Sometimes company meetings are dull. I try not to feel that way, because I take my job at Clemens Corporation seriously, and I’m grateful to be employed. I tend to take most things seriously, but especially work.

I’m the executive assistant to the CEO. It’s very rewarding. I’m trusted. I’m needed. Mr. Camden relies on me and I never let him down. That’s what he says. “Sandra, you never let me down.” I anticipate what he needs before he needs it. I’m entrusted with confidential information that some senior-level managers don’t even get to see. I deliver on time. I’m part of a team.

So I try to pay attention during meetings. Even the really boring ones. I try to keep my eyes where they belong, on the presenter.

Gabe Laurent is not presenting today. So I should stop sneaking glances at him every thirty seconds. I should stop. Luckily, he’s sitting next to my boss, Sawyer Camden. I can fake like I’m making sure Mr. Camden doesn’t need me for anything if they catch me looking their way. Which they haven’t, because I am very, very good at sneaking glances at Gabe Laurent.

At least I’m not falling asleep. That would be worse than being caught staring at my secret crush. My coworker Preston isn’t faring as well. I nudge him under the table and his eyes pop open. He blinks and blows out a breath, then sits up straight in the seat next to mine, shuffling some papers around in front of him and jotting a note down on one of them.

He’s faking it. I don’t need to look over to know that the note is gibberish. We’ve been working together for about a year and friends almost as long. I can guarantee he’s either drawing pictures or making a shopping list.

We were given a survey to fill out on today’s meetings. It’s anonymous—they’re looking for honest feedback on the presentation and what we found useful or what can be improved on. I’ve filled it out completely, with examples. I’ve also outlined the entire meeting for my personal notes. Not that it needs to be done and not that anyone is going to ask for my notes, but still. It’s important to be thorough.

Preston has rated each presenter with a star system. For some, he’s noted, Please shut up, next to the rating. I eyeball his paper now. It appears he’s ditched the assigned survey and is crafting his own, his pen flying across the paper for the first time in over an hour.

I take another peek at Gabe. He looks a little bored himself, truthfully. We’re in the Langdon auditorium. This meeting room has stadium seating, which is ideal for presentations. There’s a state-of-the-art screen stretching across the front of the room. Seating for two hundred, in tiered rows so everyone has a great view of the screen and the presenter. The acoustics are ideal, and there’s work space in front of each chair complete with charging stations and an ergonomic chair. But the best part of this meeting space is the view of Gabe. He always sits in the front row next to Sawyer. I always pick the spot two rows behind him and over one, perfect for covert glancing. And my covert assessment is that Gabe is bored.

I ascertain this by the casual glances at his watch, the way he rests his head on his fingertips, elbow bent on the table in front of him. He looks interested in the presentation. He looks engaged. But I’ve been studying Gabe for a long time. And I know he’s bored. He leans over and says something to my boss, who nods and grins in response.

Gabe Laurent is ideal. My ideal, anyway. Way outta my league. And totally off limits. I mean, it’s not like he’s my boss, but he’s a boss. He’s the CFO at Clemens Corporation; he’s also my boss’ right-hand man, and his best friend. They graduated from Harvard together and then Gabe got a master’s degree in finance at Princeton while Sawyer started this company. A year later Gabe joined him and became part-owner of the company. They’ve been hugely successful, both millionaires by twenty-five. Over the next decade their success only continued to grow while they easily became the most eligible bachelors in Philadelphia, maybe the entire eastern seaboard, seemingly content to play the field and avoid settling down. I suspect my boss is ready to chuck his little black book though. A twenty-two-year-old college senior by the name of Everly Jensen has become the sole focus of his attention as of recently.

Smart turns me on. Sometimes Gabe wears these thick-rimmed glasses, kinda nerdish. Very Clark Kent. They drive me to the brink of distraction. And I do not like to be distracted. Focus is the name of my game. Focused, reliable Sandra.

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Advertisement Trust Read online by Jana Aston (Wrong #3) Free Books http://www.books2020.com/trust-3-read-online-jana-aston Tue, 16 Aug 2016 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/trust-3-read-online-jana-aston Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Funny, New Adult, Romance Authors: Jana Aston Series: Wrong Series by Jana Aston
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Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >69

Read Online Books/Novels:	Trust (Wrong #3)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jana Aston
Language:	English
Book Information:
“Knock knock!” “Um… Who’s there?” Yeah. That was me, on my last date. Before you feel sorry for me you should know that I was the one telling the jokes. Jokes as in plural, because I didn’t stop with just one. Of course not. Hi, I’m Chloe Scott. The most awkward single girl in the city. But I’m going to get it together. I am. I’m going to learn how to date like a grown up. I’m going to have an orgasm not given to myself. I’m going to fall in love and live happily ever after. Right after I get out of this interrogation room.
Books in Series:	Wrong Series by Jana Aston
Books by Author:	Jana Aston Books

One

Chloe

“Look at us. We are so ladies who lunch.” Everly glances at the waitress. “Can I have tea, love? Do you have tea with a proper cup and saucer?” Everly blinks at the waitress in complete sincerity while the poor woman smiles politely and replies that they just have regular mugs. The four of us—Sophie, Sandra, Everly and myself—have met for lunch at the Italian restaurant located in the building Sophie lives in. We just sat down, so I’m not sure yet why Everly is speaking in the worst attempt at a British accent I’ve ever heard.

“She’ll have an iced tea—in a regular glass. Thank you.” I cut Everly off and smile at the waitress, who happily accepts my interference and bolts. It’s warm inside the restaurant so I slip out of the sweater I put on before I left the house. You never can predict how the weather will behave in October, so it’s best to be prepared.

“Cheerio, Chloe, thank you for ordering for me.”

“Why in the hell are you suddenly British?” I lower my menu and stare at her.

“She’s practicing,” Sandra says. “Sawyer’s taking her to London with him on a business trip.”

“I can’t imagine anyone really speaks like that in London,” I say drily.

“They might, mates, they might.” Everly looks hopefully around the table while Sandra, Sophie and I stare at her, unconvinced. “Am I getting any better, loves?”

“You might want to work on that a bit longer,” Sophie suggests. “Or maybe just get a hat. They wear a lot of hats in the UK, don’t they?”

“Oh, holy shit, I am getting a fascinator!” Everly drops the accent and her face lights up as she waves her hands around in excitement.

“Here we go,” I mumble. “Thanks, Sophie.”

“Do you think I can get one online? Or do you think I should wait till I get there to buy one?” Everly’s eyes widen. “Do you think I can pull off a feather?”

“You should definitely wait,” Sophie tells her, setting down her menu. “Definitely not to the feather. Now pick something to eat. I’m starving. And if you try to order fish and chips in an Italian restaurant I will punch you in the face.”

“Tsk, tsk, someone’s a little crabby,” Everly complains.

“I’m not crabby, I’m pregnant. So freaking pregnant. I’ve been pregnant for a year. I know it’s nine months, blah blah, but guess how long nine months is in gestation time? I’ll tell you, it’s an eon. My ankles are swollen, my boobs are ginormous, my back aches and I’m big enough to be carrying a litter, but no, my doctor and my husband both insist there’s only one baby in there.” She finishes her rant pointing to her stomach. “One!”

We all stop looking at our menus to look at Sophie. She’s adorable, actually. She looks good pregnant, even if she doesn’t think so. Her stomach is indeed huge—she’s due in less than two weeks—but it looks like she’s got a basketball shoved under her shirt. She’s all limbs and bump.

“Yeah, about that.” Everly waves at Sophie’s stomach. “How is the sex with that thing?” The question is directed at Sophie, but Sandra blushes and I groan.

Sophie doesn’t even blink. Apparently growing a human reduces your embarrassment threshold. “I’m horny all the time,” Sophie wails in a whisper. “All the freaking time. Luke says it’s the hormones and perfectly normal, but I don’t think it’s normal. I think I’m a pregnant pervert.”

“So like…” Everly looks at her seriously, smoothing her long dark hair over her shoulders and leaning in closer. “Doggie style?”

Sandra and I glance at each other, then to Sophie. Fine, I’m curious. That bump is huge.

“For a while, but my boobs got so big it hurts when they bounce. So now I cowgirl him and make him hold my boobs with his hands.”

Huh. Well, then.

“Well, I am never having children,” Everly proclaims, eyeing Sophie’s bump warily, “but I might cowgirl Sawyer when I get home.”

“You have a child,” I remind her.

“Obviously, Chloe,” she replies, waving her hand at me dismissively. “And Jake is the most perfect kid anyone could ever hope for. But he arrived already walking, talking and potty-trained.” She looks at Sophie’s giant bump again with genuine concern in her eyes. “I wonder if Sawyer has any other secret baby mommas.” She says this hopefully, like only she could. “A little girl would be super fun if I didn’t have to push her out of my vagina.”

Sophie’s the first one of us to have a baby, even though Everly has a five-year-old son, Jake. Everything is happening so fast. Well, for my friends anyway. Sophie met Luke last fall during our senior year at Penn. She was pregnant and married before graduation. Everly met Sawyer last Thanksgiving and they were married over the summer. Sawyer’s son from a previous relationship lives with them full-time and Everly adapted to insta-motherhood better than anyone could have expected. She’s working on a children’s book series about blended families now. Weird, I know. I always assumed she’d write porn. And then there’s Sandra; she’s a few years older than us. Sandra works for Everly’s husband and quickly became a part of our friendship circle, or squad, as Everly prefers we call it. Sandra started dating Gabe at the beginning of the year and was living with him by summer.

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Advertisement Wrong (#1) Read Online Jana Aston Free Books Novels http://www.books2020.com/wrong-1-read-online-jana-aston Mon, 27 Jun 2016 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/wrong-1-read-online-jana-aston Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, College, Contemporary, Erotic, Funny, New Adult, Young Adult Authors: Jana Aston Series: Wrong Series by Jana Aston
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Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >73

Read Online Books/Novels:	Wrong (Wrong #1)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jana Aston
Language:	English
Book Information:
I have a history of picking the wrong guy. Gay? Player? Momma’s boy? Check, check and check. Now I can’t stop fantasizing about one of the customers at the coffee shop I work at between classes. It’s just a harmless crush, right? It’s not like I ever see this guy outside of the coffee shop. It’s not like I’m going to see him while attempting to get birth control at the student clinic. While wearing a paper gown. While sitting on an exam table. Because he’s the doctor. Shoot. Me. But what if, for once, the man I’ve had the dirtiest, most scandalous fantasies about turned out to be everything but wrong?
Books in Series:	Wrong Series by Jana Aston
Books by Author:	Jana Aston Books

Chapter 1

"Sophie, your favorite customer is here." Everly snaps a towel on my ass and grins at me.

"Everly, shut up! He'll hear you."

Fuck, I'm already blushing. Luke. He comes into the coffee shop every Tuesday morning. It's the highlight of my morning shift at Grind Me, a coffee shop just off campus. I work around my

classes at the University of Pennsylvania. The Grind Me location I work at caters mainly to professionals and students living in off-campus apartments.

Luke definitely falls into the professional category. I'm not sure what he does, but he strolls into Grind Me in very expensive-looking suits and sharp ties. Nothing like the college

boys in athletic pants and graphic-print tee shirts. He must be ten, fifteen years older than me. It doesn't matter. He's beautiful and I have a bit of a thing for him, which is bad

because I have a boyfriend. An age-appropriate boyfriend. But it's just a harmless crush, right?

But Luke… he makes my panties wet just ordering coffee. He's tall, over six feet by my estimate. Thick dark hair, brown eyes and eyelashes any girl would kill for. He's wearing a dark

gray suit today with a plum-colored tie. Fucking swoon.

His hands, I'm a little obsessed with them. Long fingers ending in short, impeccably clean nails. They just look… capable. I have a lot of fantasies involving his hands and my body. He's

gotta know what he's doing with those hands. I bet he could get me off in minutes—those perfect fingers would know just where to curve while his thumb pressed down on my clit. He could

probably make me come one-handed while he finished a phone call on his cell with the other.

I have a lot of fantasies about Luke based on nothing more than pouring him a cup of coffee every Tuesday and ringing him up. Always cash. I have no idea what his last name is. I

wouldn't even know his first name if I hadn't listened in to one of his calls while he pulled a twenty from his wallet. "It's Luke, tell Dr. Kallam it's urgent, I'll hold."

Unfortunately, I don't think my fantasies are returned. I don't think he'd even know my name if it wasn't stamped in bold on a pin stuck to the front of my apron.

"Sophie." He always addresses me by name. Good morning, Sophie. I'll have the dark roast, Sophie. I think you have a bit of whipped cream on your nose, Sophie. That stuff splatters,

okay? "Sophie?" Oh, shit. Has he been talking to me while I fantasized?

"Sorry! Um, daydreaming." He smirks at me. Bastard. "Large dark roast?"

"Please." He slides a five-dollar bill across the counter. "Have a great day, Sophie." He smiles again as he turns and strolls out of the shop. I watch him walk, free to eye-fuck him

without being caught. The door jingles shut behind him but I keep watching until he's out of sight.

"Whew, that was hot." Everly fans herself with a takeout bag. "Sexual tension. Is it warm in here?"

"Stop it."

She loves teasing me. We go through this every week. He must hear her snickering in the background. And she ensures I'm the one who waits on him every time. If she's at the counter when

he arrives she immediately finds something else to do so she can step back and watch me ogle him. It's embarrassingly obvious.

"Enough of the mysterious hottie. Are you going to put out and fuck Mike or not? You've made him wait like, a month? That's a long time in horny college-boy time. Plus, you're the oldest

virgin on campus. Not even our campus. All the campuses."

"It's not my fault I dated a gay guy for two years." I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and cross my arms across my chest. I'm a little defensive about this.

"Hello? Earth to delusional. You didn't find it odd you were dating a twenty-year-old guy who never tried to stick his dick in you?" Everly dumps beans into the industrial-sized grinder

and raises a skeptical eyebrow in my direction. I hand her a stack of one-pound Grind Me bags labeled for individual sale and lean against the opposite counter.

"I thought he respected me, not that he was afraid of vaginas," I tell her, kicking the rubber mat on the floor over an inch. "He let me suck him off." I add this in, hoping it's a valid

point in my defense.

Everly snorts. "Yeah, with the lights off."

I bite my lip and look away.

"Oh my God! I was joking. I'm so sorry, Sophie. Shit, seriously? Guys love to watch themselves get sucked. But Scott was probably picturing a dude while his dick was in your mouth, so…

Oh, fuck. I’m making this worse." Everly drops the coffee bag under the dispenser. Beans scatter across the counter and drop to the floor while she grabs me into a giant hug. "Lots of

guys would love to fuck you, Sophie. I promise. Like Luke. That guy would love to stick it in you, he's just concerned you're jailbait. But you should start with Mike anyway. Tall, dark

and handsome looks like he's packing a donkey dick."

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Advertisement Right (Wrong #2) Read Online Book by Jana Aston http://www.books2020.com/right-2-read-online-jana-aston Sun, 26 Jun 2016 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/right-2-read-online-jana-aston Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, College, Contemporary, Erotic, Funny, New Adult, Young Adult Authors: Jana Aston Series: Wrong Series by Jana Aston
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Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Right (Wrong #2)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Jana Aston
Language:	English
Book Information:
My childhood was perfect. I’ve led a charmed life, and I’m not going to blow it now by picking the wrong guy. I’ve got my sights set on my brother’s best friend. He’s known my family for years. He’s reliable and kind and handsome. Sure, he’s been avoiding me since I was six. I’m a bit aggressive for him, maybe. But he’s the one… right?
Books in Series:	Wrong Series by Jana Aston
Books by Author:	Jana Aston Books

One

I slide into the passenger seat of the low-slung car as the door thuds shut behind me and busy myself with the seatbelt, using the opportunity to watch him as he crosses the front of the car. His strides are confident, unhurried. The fingers of his left hand skim the hood before he rounds the headlight and reaches the driver’s side door.

I suddenly feel uneasy, and I never feel uneasy.

This car is too small for the both of us. I’m annoyed at the idea of being cooped up inside the same ten square feet as him all the way to Philadelphia. I just met him twenty minutes ago. Why is he having this effect on me?

The door handle clicks and he’s behind the wheel, the engine purring a second later. I watch him buckle himself in from the corner of my eye, but keep my head straight, my focus on my hands folded in my lap, until the silence goes on too long. He’s staring at me, the car idling, apparently content to wait until he has my attention. I turn my head and meet his eyes. They’re brown, another check mark completing tall, dark and handsome. They light up with amusement as he speaks, which unsettles me. Why?

“How can you possibly think Finn Camden is the right man for you?”

That’s why.

Two

Sixteen Years Ago

I clutch my brand-new Strawberry Shortcake backpack in my lap and check the window again. We’re getting close, and it’s my job to make sure I get off the bus at the right stop. I’m in first grade this year, not a kindergartener baby, and I get to take the bus home from school. My brother Eric is meeting me at the bus stop. He’s a teenager and that’s his job. To pick me up. I know he won’t forget, because he loves me. Also, ’cause Mom said he’d be grounded for a week if he forgot.

The bus turns onto Norrans Drive. This is my stop. I grip my backpack tighter and eye the distance to the door.

“Everly!” Timmy Stuart pops his head over the seat in front of me. He’s missing a tooth and his hair is a disaster. It’s a disaster because he let me cut it. Mom says I need a lot of supervision. I don’t think his hair would have turned out any better if she’d been watching me though, so I don’t think that’s true.

“I saved one of my new pencils for you,” he says, holding it up.

I grin back at him. The kid has had a crush on me since Pre-K. I should really stop messing with his hair. “Thanks, Timmy,” I tell him, and slip the pencil into a side pocket on my bag. “You want one of my erasers?” I offer, holding up a pink strawberry-shaped eraser, which he takes.

The bus stops and I rush to the front. I see Eric waiting as the doors swoosh open. I slide my backpack straps over my shoulders and hop down the bus steps onto the sidewalk. I bet I can get Eric to let me have some of the candy he’s got stashed in his room instead of the yogurt I’m supposed to have for my after-school snack.

But a second later I stop short, candy forgotten. There’s a boy with Eric. I’ve never seen him before. He must be a new high-school friend—it’s Eric’s first year of high school. His friend is cute. Really cute.

“This your little sister, Eric?” The boy smiles at me.

“Yup, this is Bever—”

“Everly,” I interrupt. “My name is Everly.”

“Not according to Mom and Dad it isn’t.”

I stop gazing at the boy long enough to glare at Eric. The boy laughs. “Why don’t I just call you Shortcake?” he asks, and he extends his hand like I’m an adult, not a kid. “My name is Finn.”

I shake his hand and it’s settled, in my six-year-old heart. I’m going to marry Finn.

Then he leans over and ruffles my hair.

Humph. Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me.

Three

Present Day

I break his gaze and turn back to the windshield, crossing my legs and tossing my hair over my right shoulder. His eyes annoy me. They’re too inquisitive. I’ve never been this fascinating to anyone, ever. And I’m not interested in being the object of this man’s fascination. “Finn and I are perfect together,” I snap. “Just take me home,” I say, waving dismissively at the stationary car.

“Finn and you aren’t together,” he replies and pulls the car onto Ridgebury heading towards Salem.

I shrug and slip my phone out of my pocket and tap the screen to life.

“What are you doing?”

What does it look like I’m doing? “Checking my messages,” I reply. “Can we be done talking now?”

He makes a noise that sounds a bit like a grunt and then pushes a button on the steering wheel before saying, “Call Sandra.”

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