Just About Sex
It's Complicated, Book 3
Career. Family. Romance.
Ambitious sex therapist Dr. Simone Beaupre leads a quiet life counseling patients and writing for the local magazine.
Until her advice column, Just About Sex, runs afoul of the wrong man.
And sexy—and irate—attorney Alex Greene storms into her office, demanding an apology…
In the mood for a hot contemporary romance? Buy Just About Sex today!
What the Critics say
“TOP PICK! Just About Sex is an exceptional story! Ann Christopher uses comedy to smooth over what could be uncomfortable topics. Her characters are colorful, well rounded and often inspirational…” —Romantic Times BOOKreviews
Read an Excerpt
“What does a patent lawyer do?” Simone asked, absently tugging her skirt down and snapping him out of his X-rated thoughts.
“I’d tell you, but I don’t want you to fall asleep while driving.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Lots of technical stuff. A client comes in with a new invention, I help evaluate it and we decide whether to file a patent application for it.” Alex glanced at her. She nodded encouragingly. “Lots of paperwork, lots of drafting and reviewing agreements…”
Juan Romero’s swaggering image filled his head, making him cringe. As if Alex and his forms, memos and other assorted paperwork could compete with someone who’d earned a World Series ring.
“Your eyelids feeling droopy yet?” he asked.
Downshifting, she ignored him. “So do you have a chemistry degree, or…”
“Uh…electrical engineering and computer science, actually.”
“Hence your skill with the computer, I suppose,” she said, the side of her mouth twisting down. “Had to go over to the Dark Side, did you?”
Damn that blog.
“So you like math and science, but you’re creative, too, huh? I mean, you drew my caricature.”
Feeling surly now, he braced himself for what was surely coming. They were about to get to the part of the conversation where she realized what a stuttering geek he was and decided she didn’t want anything else to do with him.
How many promising friendships and relationships had ended this way over the years? Five? Ten? He was sick to death of being a misfit.
He turned his head to stare blindly out the window. “You might as well know right now. I do thousand-piece three-dimensional puzzles and play Sudoku to relax. I can speak French, Spanish, German and a little Russian. If your TV breaks, I can probably fix it for you. If you want someone to program your laptop to wash dishes, I’m your m-man. Okay?”
Impervious to his nasty tone and defiant glare, she pulled into a space and turned off the engine. Thoroughly irritated, he jerked off his seatbelt.
“Alex,” she said, putting a hand on his arm.
Astonished, he twisted around to face her.
“Don’t you think what they say about the brain is true?” Simone asked.
His pulse went berserk, thrown completely off kilter by her touch, her use of his name for the first time and the unmistakable admiration in her eyes.
His voice took forever to work. “What do they say about the brain?”
“That it’s the sexiest organ in the body.”
He felt his lower jaw drop and was powerless to stop it.
Stunned, he searched her flushed face for signs of sarcasm or pity and found…none. Lust for her consumed his belly and clawed its way to the surface, feeling unlike anything he’d ever experienced before…
Much as he wanted her, he needed her more. Needed to give as much pleasure as he took. Needed to make her understand how special she was. He needed something else, too, something more troublesome. Something…more.
Simone didn’t notice his turmoil. “I think I’ll call you MacGyver. Or maybe Leonardo da Vinci, since you’re such a Renaissance man. How about that?”
As if he cared. She could call him anything she damn well pleased. He’d answer.
“I want to warn you,” he said in a low, husky voice he barely recognized as his own. “I’m going to kiss you before the afternoon is over.”