Author: Lauren Rowe
Series: The Club #1
Publisher: SoCoRo Publishing
Release Date: January 5, 2015
Genre: Contemporary Romance
More Info: Goodreads
Purchase: Amazon US
When playboy businessman Jonas Faraday receives a private note from the anonymous intake agent assigned to process his online application to an exclusive club, he becomes obsessed with finding her and giving her the satisfaction she claims has always eluded her, in order to fulfill his own desperate need for redemption.
Sarah: “When I read Jonas Faraday’s brutally honest personal message on his application to The Club—I practically climaxed at my desk. I’m an idiot to risk losing my job but I couldn’t resist contacting him. I knew my confession would be like dangling an irresistible carrot in front of his nose—but never in a million years did I think he’d actually hunt me down.”
Jonas: “I was shocked to get my intake agent’s email—I’d attached that note to my application on a whim, never expecting a reply from an actual person, let alone a reply as mind blowing as that. Her message was so alluring, so irresistible, I’ve been spiraling into a full-blown obsession ever since I got it. What’s her name? What does she look like? Finding her is my top priority.”
In The Club, what starts out as an innocent exploration of attraction quickly spirals into a steamy story of unbridled passion, obsession, heartbreak, and, ultimately, redemption.
“My Beautiful Intake Agent,” I write.
I stare at the screen, my fingers resting on my keyboard.
What do I want to say? Do I really want to say I want to fuck her, sight unseen? What if it turns out she’s not at all physically attractive to me? What if she’s a great-grandmother or something?
Fuck it. I can’t think like that. She’s hot. I know she is. I’ve got a sixth sense about these things. And I can’t worry about scaring her off. I just have to tell her the truth. It worked the first time. I have to believe it’ll work again.
I lay my fingers on my keyboard again.
“The only thing bigger than my raging God complex right now is my raging hard-on for you,” I type, making myself smirk. “Your email made me hard from the minute it hit my inbox to the moment I stopped reading it for the twentieth time and jacking off to it fifteen minutes ago. Thank you for your brutal honesty. And, of course, for telling me your delicious secret, too. Yes, indeed, you’re Mount Everest, my dear—and you must know what kind of allure you therefore present to a passionate climber like me.
“You’re driving me fucking crazy, you know. (Of course, you do—and you like it.) I’m a man who needs to be in control, a fact that probably hasn’t escaped your notice, and in this bizarre but delectable situation, you’re the one holding all the cards right now. This is an upside-down distribution of power for a man saddled with a raging God complex, as I’m sure you can appreciate. But for some reason, I’m enjoying the torture.
“You know everything about me, and I know nothing about you—well, wait, that’s not completely true. I know what I need to know. You’re smart. And sexy as hell. And not afraid to kick my ass with some seriously brutal honesty of your own.
“I want to know everything about you. But let’s start with your name. And where I can find you.”