My relationship with Hunter Delucia
We met at a wedding—him sitting on the groom’s side, me sitting on the bride’s. Stealing glances at each other throughout the night, there was no denying an intense, mutual attraction.
I caught the bouquet; he caught the garter. Hunter held me tightly while we danced and suggested we explore the chemistry sparking between us. His blunt, dirty mouth should’ve turned me off. But for some crazy reason, it had the opposite effect on me.
We ended up back in my hotel room. The next morning, I headed home to New York leaving him behind in California with the wrong number. Continue reading “Sneak Peak of Sex, Not Love by Vi Keeland”