Flinging All Spring: Book 3 of Sag Harbor Black Romances Paperback

Boston heart surgeon Adella English has finally built a life outside her family's money. She has even found good love, and is headed toward a life of peace. Until Del receives a staggering phone call that changes everything.

Her beloved grandfather is on his death bed. And he wants to leave Adella everything. But he has one specific condition.

Bad boy ex-football player Desmond McLain could care less about his family's construction empire. On top of that, he is an outsider to the Sag Harbor elites. He didn't attend an Ivy League university, and didn't grow up dancing at cotillions and galas. When his family demands that he marry a bourgeoisie woman he's never met, he does something despicable that doesn't win him any fans in Sag Harbor.

Now, to protect the future of their families, these two strangers must not only share a boardroom and a house, but a bed.

A disastrous prison sentence? Or will Desmond tap Adella's secret garden this spring?

Follow childhood friends Maddy, Chrissy & Adella as they realize their strength while finding love on their rise to the top. This marriage of convenience, curvy girl, medium-heat romance is Book 3 in the Sag Harbor Black Romances. If you love hit television series Queen Sugar, these are your stories. These books can be read in any order, but are most delicious in sequence.

Paperback page count: 271

*Strong language & sex are included that may be triggers for some.

🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️/5

“I’ll take the ice cream then.”

On her way up the stairs, her husband hoped—maybe even prayed—she’d come back down in nothing but her birthday suit. Then, he could properly make dessert out of her. A man could dream.

He whipped up vanilla bean banana split with lots of hot fudge, and instead of making separate bowls, he prepared one. By the time he was done, she came down in cozy cotton pajamas. Again, it surprised him when he was more intrigued than disappointed. She could’ve been wearing a trash bag, and he still would have been excited as hell for what was underneath it.
Taking out one of the gifts that they’d received from the wedding, he set a candle bouquet on the center of the table and lit all sixteen candles. Then he took out some of the other candle gifts they received and set them around the dining room and living room.

“Where did all this come from?”

“You never went through the gifts. But I like getting surprises. So I did while you were at your granddad’s.”
She eyed him with a skeptical raised brow when he set the one bowl between them.

“Don’t worry, Doc, I didn’t lace the ice cream with rat poison.” He scooped up some hot fudge and banana and ice cream, and held it out to her with chocolate dripping over the edge.

Hesitant initially, she scoped him out. But Desmond remained steadfast, and would sit here all night with that damn ice cream if he needed to. After a few seconds, his bride leaned forward and parted her mouth.

Down, boy. He struggled to calm his rising erection.
“I enjoyed the rides today.” She sucked up the ice cream, her tongue sliding across her bottom lip to lick up the fudge. “Thanks for taking me.”

Watching her lips and tongue lap up chocolate sauce was thanks enough.

“Don’t worry about it. It was a good time just hearing you scream.”

He longed to hear more of it, on a different kind of roller-coaster ride.

This demureness in her—with eyes that questioned, and feared, and examined—he was not used to it. He was not used to seeing more behind a woman’s eyes than temporary lust. Or actually, he’d never paid attention. Desmond normally entertained bold, brazen women who came at him for the quick and dirty purpose of tossing him around in bed or jumping on him in the car.

And yet, Adella’s Penelope Pussycat fright turned him on. Her sensuality was a candlelight rather than a blowtorch, quietly lighting different parts of his body at the same time instead of just one part. And with his parts roasting over a low flame, he was Pepé Le Pew wanting to give chase.

But he would take his time, kind of the way one observed a flower garden in bloom. The flowers didn’t all bloom in a day, but rather, petal by petal, a little more blossom every day, with care, water, and sunlight.
As he fed her more bites, he cupped her elbow. The smooth, superior-quality Supima cotton fibers of her pajamas cooled his fingertips.

Subtly, he massaged the soft fabric over her skin, but did nothing more. He didn’t make any sudden moves to overwhelm her. Scaring her away from him was the last mistake he wanted to make. For now, he’d have to be satisfied to watch her open up petal by petal.

Instead, with only his thumb, and his eyes, and his ice cream, did Desmond communicate to Adella, and to himself, that he was falling for her.