• Brynn Paulin

That Time Dick Did Jane...

See Dick... See Dick keep a big secret... Bad, Dick, bad!

Oh my gosh, this story. I think of all the Taboo Wishes books, this one was my favorite. This couple was fun to write. Dick finally decided he was getting who he wants. Jane getting what she needs. But it wasn't all fun and game and spankings. I tackled the serious topic of Jane being a former cutter, and her psychological battle. But it wasn't all angst and drama. the book was actually a ton of fun.

Here's a peek:

See Jane Run…

When realtor Jane Harper dated Dick months ago, something was missing. Even now, she knows he was holding back, but what, she has no idea. It doesn’t matter. He’s in her past, and she’s looking for what she truly wants—a Dom.

See Dick…

Afraid to scare Jane with his real nature, Dr. Dick Anderson hid his dominant side, hoping to ease her into his lifestyle. Little did he know that what she really wanted was the very thing he’d needed most to give her.

Jane has been a bad, bad girl…

And now, Dick is ready to take care of that problem. Carefully, he maneuvers her to his home, under the guise of wanting to sell it. Jane soon discovers his BDSM playroom hidden behind a lock and key. Before she knows it, Dick has her over his knee and she’s headed down a road toward pleasure she never imagined, with a man she never expected to deliver.


(Side note: when Dick stops pretending and holding back, this relationship is anything but dull. It's scalding hot, no-holds-barred)

Jane Harper couldn’t help but feel she was being setup. When her boss had come into her office and given her this listing to broker, she’d readily agreed. Though the real estate market hadn’t been great, houses in this affluent neighborhood had always sold well, even in the recession. Getting this property was a coup.

Until she’d spied the address, but by then it had been too late. Her boss had gone back to his office, and she was left staring at the address of the home. A home she knew all too well.

845 Wolf River Drive. The residence of her ex-boyfriend, Dr. Dick Anderson.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she stared up at the white house with black trim. Rather than studying it for curb appeal, her mind was firmly on the man inside. Constant jokes about their names aside, their three-month relationship had been comfortable at best. Bland at worst.

The night he’d asked her to move in to this very house, she’d refused then she’d broken things off. Dick was a nice guy. He deserved someone who more than liked him, who was more than just content with him.

And Jane wanted sparks and fire and a man who made her shiver at the thought of sex. Commitment was optional.

Butterflies kamikazed around her belly as she reached for the door handle. She’d wanted to feel something like this whenever she considered being with him. Heady excitement. Anticipation.

At the moment, it was merely nerves.

Stepping from her car, she paused a moment to steady herself on her navy high heels then grabbed her case from the backseat. Swallowing, her mouth suddenly dry, she smoothed the skirt of her tailored blue suit. Her lace-trimmed white blouse and the satin trim on the jacket’s pockets were the outfit’s only nod to femininity. The somewhat sexless armor was a defense against men who seemed to think getting it on with their realtor was more than an urban legend. It would be an asset today against Dick. Being alone for the past four months made her vulnerable to nostalgia.

The sex wouldn’t have been that bad. Better than none.

Mentally berating herself to stop, she headed for the front door. Heaven forbid he think she was afraid of him. He’d always been so nice. It wasn’t until that evening when she’d told him just that—that he was too nice a man—that she’d seen a glimpse of the sort of commanding guy she wanted. But that had been too late. And he’d just been angry, anyway. That powerful presence hadn’t been real.

The click of her heels on the cement reminded her of the part of the feminine outfit she couldn’t resist. Right now, she wished she’d worn flats. Dick had a bit of a shoe fetish. Despite being epically dull, he’d had a thing for her shoes, and she’d often glimpsed him staring speculatively at them. If only he’d acted on the fire she’d seen in his eyes. She’d always suspected he held something back. She’d never pushed. Maybe something had held him back.

She didn’t need neuroses. She’d had her share of that in boyfriends before Dick.

He opened the door as she raised her hand to knock. Caught in his deep blue gaze, she could only stare. Dick was the most beautiful man she’d ever met. That’s why they’d lasted three, sexless months. Looking at him made her all hot and wet, but looks weren’t something on which to build a relationship.

A bit of his curling, dark-brown hair fell over his forehead to flop over his brow while his full lips curved into a faint smile. She couldn’t pull away from his eyes, but she’d had a momentary flash of his white oxford, open at the neck, and well-worn jeans. Though she didn’t look, it was likely he wore brown loafers. This was his standard casual outfit. Being a well-made man, he wore it to perfection.

Dick was neither overly muscular nor lanky. Rather, he was fit without excess fat or bulging muscles, though he did lean to the latter rather than the former. She’d appreciated that, enjoying a strong man beside her who didn’t frighten her with his hulking mass.

“Jane,” he simply said. Her middle shuddered with excitement—what the hell was this? Why now?

“Dick,” she replied. Neither said another word as time fell away, and the moment spun a web around them. Her fingers tightened on her briefcase as a tingle of awareness washed through her chest.

She swallowed again.

This appointment was going to be hell.

Finally, he pushed the door farther open. “Come on in.”

Said the spider to the fly.

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