What a Girl Needs
Book Two in Indecent Proposals
Aimée Duffy
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Contents
HarperImpulse an imprint of
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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2014
Copyright © Aimee Duffy 2014
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Ebook Edition © March 2014
ISBN: 9780007540297
Version 2014-09-26
Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.
I definitely need to dedicate this one to Susan Thomson. The conversations we've had will keep the ideas flowing for years!
Dear Sally,
I read your column weekly but never thought I’d be writing this email. The truth is there’s something wrong with me. I can’t climax. I’ve never been able to, and my recent ex told me this was normal for some women. Not the women I know. Was he telling the truth? Sometimes it feels like I’m the only one.
Yours,
Anonymous
Georgia Lewis forced herself to leave it at that. It was one thing to think of herself as a freak, another to sign off using the label. Moving the mouse over the mat provided by Briggs Department Stores, she tried to click ‘send’, but her finger wouldn’t obey the command.
Frustrated, she let go of the mouse and raked a hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face. She couldn’t be the only woman in New York who’d never experienced what her friends kept banging on about, could she? Plus she’d created a false email address so none of Sally’s Sexual Help readers would know it was her who sent it in, so what did it matter?
She needed to pull on her big-girl panties and send the damn thing. Maybe then she’d be able to concentrate on the end-of-year accounts on her desk. After all, she was here to work, not worry about body parts that didn’t function correctly.
Resolved, she reached for the mouse again. Her desk phone rang and she stifled a sigh. Abandoning the mouse, she picked up the phone.
‘Accounts Department,’ she answered, though she could hardly call it that, more ‘two women forgotten in closets at the back of the building.’
‘Georgia, I need the buying accounts for last month.’
His deep voice made her skin prickle, like it always did. She shook off the weird sensation. He was her new boss; until his father got better anyway, and she’d never let herself look at him any other way. Okay, maybe she had on occasion, when she trailed behind him in the hall. Who wouldn’t check out an ass like his? It was high and firm and utterly squeezable.
‘Sure, Maxton. I’ll get them ready.’
‘Georgia…’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Max. Sorry.’
Hard to break a habit of a lifetime. His father, Maxton Briggs the First, never allowed his name to be shortened.
But it was Maxton Briggs the Second running the show