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Surrender Her Inhibitions

By: Nicole Morgan

Three years ago Sophia Hunt was on the tail end of a bad break up and in a vulnerable and confused state of mind when she crossed paths with the sexy and seductive J.T. Mastrantonio.

Stuck in a rut and no longer satisfied with his successful life, J.T. finds an unfamiliar ache when the scared girl who ran out on him years earlier walks back into his life.

Though time is not their side, Sophia is faced with the realization that her biggest fears and greatest temptations are one in the same. And only J.T. will be the one who can get Sophia to surrender to her inhibitions.

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#Exclusive Excerpt

He pulled at his tie and yanked it over his head before tossing it onto one of the chairs which sat across from his desk. His suit jacket was next to go, finding a place on the couch near his office doorway.

His strides were long and purposeful as he unbuttoned his sleeves and began rolling them up. Rarely did he make an appearance downstairs in Shaken, Not Stirred unless it was business. Tonight he planned on breaking that cycle and he had no intention of showing up as Mr. Mastrantonio, everyone’s boss. Tonight he just wanted to be a customer.

Stepping out of his penthouse suite and onto the marble tiled floors he caught sight of his reflection in the polished elevator doors while waiting for them to open. The mirrored walls of the metal box which greeted him seconds later only confirmed what he had thought he’d seen.

Dark circles were etched deep beneath his eyes. More than that, though, he could still see that same vacant stare that had been plaguing him for weeks.

The empty and unfulfilled feeling that kept him up at night was driving him insane. Never having much control over his childhood, he always vied for control in all aspects of his adulthood. Whether it be business or personal life, J.T. always knew what he wanted, how to get it and who to get it from. This whole business of not knowing what he wanted, or how to get a handle on what was troubling him, was pissing him off to no end.

The elevator doors opened as he reached the first floor of his five-star downtown resort hotel, The Mastrantonio. Casually he looked down at the polished tile floors in an effort to not be noticed by any of the staff and walked silently through the lobby toward the bar.

He was just about to find himself a table off in some dark corner so he could be left alone when he caught a glimpse of something that sparkled in the dim light. Sitting in the room and by herself was a woman with some sort of clip in her hair. It held up some of her hair just enough so that he could see the simple diamond solitaire earrings that she wore.

Unlike his usual clientele, she was dressed to the nines in Chanel or Dior. Her dress, albeit pretty and flattering on her was obviously an off the rack design that probably hundreds, if not thousands, of others owned.

He could only see some of her face as she leaned forward in her chair, but still he could tell she was a beautiful woman. And as he stared at her for a few moments he sensed a familiarity about her, like he knew her from somewhere.

Her slender fingertip glided across the rim of her wineglass to the rhythm of the slow jazz playing through the speakers. Her eyes stared off into the darkness, lost somewhere that he wasn’t even sure she knew.

“Mr. Mastrantonio, how are you tonight, sir?” One of the bartenders asked with a pleasant smile.

J.T. glanced over and nodded. “Fine. Say,” he walked over toward the bar and noticed the man’s name tag, “Ben, that woman over there. Is she a guest with us, do you know?”

“Ms. Hunt? Yes. She’s been here for a few days now.”

“I see. What’s she drinking?” J.T. asked, his mind still staring and searching for what it was about her that seemed so familiar.

“2005 Domaine Stirn Cuvée Prestige Sigolsheim Pinot Grigio.”

“Really?” he asked with surprise. The family owned vineyard had been around for hundreds of years but was only well known by true wine connoisseurs. “That’s a very specific taste.”

“I know. Especially considering –.” Ben stopped himself in midsentence.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing. I’m sorry, Sir. I know you don’t like us gossiping about the guests. I didn’t mean anything by it. She really is a very nice lady.”

J.T. admired the young man’s forthrightness. He looked for that in his employees and was glad to see he was instilling that message. For the moment though he wished his obedient bartender would forget his manners and tell him all that he knew about this woman who had managed to grasp J.T.’s attention.

“I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you pour me a glass of Dewar’s neat and tell me what you know? It’s not gossiping if the boss is asking. Is it?”