My Anonymous Lover (Forbidden Fantasies #56) Read Online S.E. Law

Categories Genre: Angst, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Forbidden Fantasies Series by S.E. Law

Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

My Anonymous Lover (Forbidden Fantasies #56)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

S.E. Law

Book Information:

Ginny: I can’t believe I’m being so bad. Most women wouldn’t go near a truck stop glory hole, but I’m not most women. After all, I’m a female trucker who breaks barriers in a male-dominated industry. Even more, I like to enjoy myself on the road … anonymously, while on my knees.

Jeremiah: As an aspiring politician, there are things I need to keep secret, and one of those is my penchant for truck stop rest areas. It’s not just the greasy cheeseburgers and Big Gulps that attract me. It’s the illicit fun that takes place in certain unmarked areas, and in spite of my political ambitions … I can’t resist the bodacious curvy girl who makes me feel good.

This is a follow-up to Claiming His Cheerleader. In this story, Ginny and Jeremiah meet at a truck stop rest area, but somehow, their anonymous fun blossoms and flowers to become something much, much more. But will their spicy shenanigans destroy Jeremiah’s burgeoning political career? Read and find out! No cheating, no cliffhangers and always a HEA for my readers.
Books in Series:

Forbidden Fantasies Series by S.E. Law

Books by Author:

S.E. Law



“Should I have worn the other skirt?” I mutter as I eye myself in the mirror. The black miniskirt that I have on goes well with the thin tank top that I chose to wear, but I have a denim skirt that could go well with it too…

But then I berate myself because technically, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be in a stall in the men’s bathroom, separated from the john that I’ll please tonight by a thin wall with only a small hole, just big enough for them to stick their cocks through the center. It’s not like they’ll be able to see much through the small opening, and even if they could, I doubt they’d care about my clothes. No man shows up to a glory hole just for the sake of judging a woman’s stylistic choices. I mean, come on. Let’s be real. They’re all about a warm mouth and a wet tongue and whether I wear a denim mini or a black mini is totally irrelevant.

Still, I dig through the small closet of the truck cab and fret over what to wear for at least thirty minutes before finally deciding on a suitable outfit. The process has become somewhat of a ritual for me, actually. It’s something that I happen to enjoy a lot because rituals can be calming and soothing. Besides, I always feel my best when I look my best, and therefore, I love getting all dolled up even if no one’s going to see. You have to have this mindset in my line of work because honestly, hardly anyone sees me in my real life, period.

After all, I work as a long-haul trucker for a company called Gentry Hauling. As a driver, I operate in solitude for long stretches of time. Days. Weeks. Even months, sometimes. Don’t get me wrong because I absolutely love my job. It’s just that I’m alone a lot, which is the nature of the profession.

But the pros of being a trucker far outweigh the cons in my book, and I enjoy it. In fact, being alone on the road is possibly the most appealing part of the job because it’s a good time for me to clear my head and to revel in my own company without the distractions of endless texts and crazy amounts of social media. I wouldn’t go as far as saying that I’m not a people person, but I’m certainly not the kind of woman who gets too upset if I have to go without having much human interaction for a while. Okay, maybe I’m a teeny-weeny anti-social, but then again, it works for me.

Plus, another upside to being a truck driver is that there’s no having to suck up to an annoying boss; exchanging passive-aggressive insults with nosy and two-faced coworkers; or kissing disrespectful customers’ asses either. There’s no standing on my feet all day or typing away at a computer until my fingers are close to falling off, which seems to be one of the perils of modern-day life.