Hands Off! The 100 Day Agreement by AUTHOR
Age Group: New Adult
Release Date: December 3, 2014
Amazon ♥ B & N
One hundred days without sex? Is that even possible?
When I got offered an exchange year to the Italian art school of my dreams, I nearly cried. I could barely afford college expenses at home let alone in a foreign country. I had to decline but my rich, uptight grandmother called with her screwed up offer.
If I agreed to her conditions, she’d foot the bill. So I agreed. I figured she didn’t really care about my sex life, she just wanted me to keep my partying off the radar of her fancy friends.
I was so wrong.
The sexy but annoying Chad moved into my apartment to keep me under surveillance. He’s impervious to my charms and for some damn reason, dead set on making sure I lose this deal.
One hundred days is a helluva long time to avoid temptation – even longer when Chad becomes the temptation.
“Let's skip out of here,” Jayne said, turning to watch Chad walk away. “Shit, he's watching us. He's not taking his eyes off you. You are so screwed. Wait, Rebecca is talking to him.”
I span around ready to tell that skank to get her hands off my bodyguard. Even if he was a pain in the butt, he was my pain in the butt. I didn't want Rebecca putting her slimy hands all over him.
But Jayne grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the cafeteria barely giving me time to get my bag. We ran down the hallway, almost running into a guy carrying a giant caterpillar sculpture. We kept running to the lifts.
“No, he'll go here first,” said Jayne and she dragged me to the fire escape. We ran down the three flights of stairs and out the fire escape into the campus car park, which nearly killed me. I wanted to stop for a rest when we hit the outside but Jayne grabbed my arm. She ran behind a car and pulled me down.
We both squatted against the car, trying to get our breath back. Then she popped her head up to peer over the bonnet of the car.
“Can't see him,” she panted.
“He might be hiding, ready to pounce.”
He could probably track me just from the sound of my heartbeat. I was so unfit.
“We have to take my car. He'll know yours.”
Jayne's car was at the other end of the car park. I started to rise so we could make a dash for it but she pulled me back down.
Jayne did a squat walk to the edge of the car, glanced around to make sure the coast was clear then waved for me to follow. I tried to copy her squat walk then we both did a huddled over run to the next car in the lot.
Jayne squatted back down and waddled some more.
My legs burnt and we'd only gone the distance of two cars. I estimated there were about 30 more car lengths to go. If I kept this up, I wouldn't need Chad to make me give up sex. I'd be physically incapable of ever spreading my legs again.
“Keep up,” Jayne hissed. “Do you want him to catch you?”
I took a deep breath and thought about all the good this would do me – I'd have the tightest butt you could imagine by the time we got to Jayne's car – then I waddled along some more.
We got halfway there without any sign of Chad.
“Maybe he's given up?” Jayne said.
“Maybe he's found a prime viewing position and is laughing his arse off at us waddling through the car park?”
I'd started to develop a technique though and picked up speed. I started to outpace Jayne, figuring the sooner we got to her car, the sooner this embarrassment would end. Hells, what if someone saw us doing this?
I tried to sprint waddle to the next car when Jayne grabbed me, making me jump.
“Chad?” I hissed. But it wasn't Chad, it was a huge great truck heading towards me in the car park. Shit. I could've been killed.
Finally, we made it to Jayne's old bomb.
“My thighs will never be the same again,” I said. “That was a major workout.”
“I thought you'd have strong thighs from all the...” She did a sex sign with her fingers.
“Not as much as you'd think.”
Jayne started the car up, spinning the wheels as she backed out of the parking space. She got to the boom gates.
“Quick, grab the swipe card. I can see him coming.”
“Over there. Quick. It's in my handbag.”
I grabbed her handbag. How much shit did Jayne carry in that bag? Hair brushes and sketches on envelopes and a bunch of pencils in various chewed states.
“Here, let me.” She snatched the bag from me and waved the whole thing in front of the sensor. I could see Chad running towards us. He ran fast and didn't even look like he'd broken a sweat. Maybe because he hadn't been waddling all over the car park.
“Hurry up,” I said when he was within metres of the car.
“I can't leave until the arm goes up, I'll knock the top off my car.”
“Why the hell don't you have a convertible? We'd be out of here by now.”
Candy J. Starr used to be a band manager until she realised that the band she managed was so lacking in charisma that they actually sucked the charisma out of any room they played. "Screw you," she said, leaving them to wallow in obscurity - totally forgetting that they owed her big bucks for video equipment hire.
Candy has filmed and interviewed some big names in the rock business, and a lot of small ones. She's seen the dirty little secrets that go on in the back rooms of band venues. She's seen the ugly side of rock and the very pretty one.
But, of course, everything she writes is fiction.
She is currently working on Rock Star vs Millionaire - the sequel to Bad Boy Rock Star. Want to know about new releases and secret fan only offers?