Sexy Lips 66 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  Sexy Lips 66

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Preview another book by this author

  Note from Dakota

  eBooks by Dakota Cassidy

  Dakota recommends … Sami Lee

  Excerpt

  Callie was in no mood to play at work on Monday and she’d snapped more than one head off as a result, sending the ever-nosy Felix on his way and telling Tyler he could shove his expense report up his cheap ass. She’d had a total of one cup of coffee before she was blindsided by Brian Benson. She’d told Tyler the coffee was on her.

  She felt like a shit.

  She looked like shit from the assessment her computer screen gave her and she had an article to write. Something funny, something witty, something fucking inane to entertain the masses.

  Fuck the masses.

  Callie couldn’t wrap her head around anything since the weekend. Nothing was clicking and nothing was making any sense anymore. She wanted this column over with and then the yuppie sharks could have it. Working in the mail room suited her just fine.

  Callie clicked on her e-mail absently to see that yet more e-mail from Heavenly Hook Ups was waiting for her. God, this was never going to end. She’d have to see about having her profile deleted.

  No more dating.

  But as she scanned her full inbox at the site, she realized she’d have to answer some of these. Well, she didn’t have to, but her manners wouldn’t allow her not to. Groaning, she attacked them from top to bottom.

  To: Writer66

  From: Liveandletlive

  Subject: By all means…

  Reject me. Do not write back to me. It’s part of my rejection therapy.

  Live and let live

  Callie could share a thing or two with Liveandletlive about rejection. She might laugh at his approach if she didn’t want so much to cry.

  To: Liveandletlive

  Subject: Re: By all means…

  Dear Liveandletlive,

  Consider this a donation to your rejection therapy fund.

  Always willing to help a fellow patient in sunny California,

  Writer66

  Next?

  To: Writer66

  From: Hajisan

  Subject: Marry me

  Dear Writer66,

  I respectfully request that you accept my hand in marriage. I have many things to offer. A palace and a herd of sheep, to name a few. Please e-mail me ASAP.

  Hajisan

  A herd of sheep…It was how every girl wanted to be wooed, with smelly sheep, but hey, what girl couldn’t use a nice palace?

  To: Hajisan

  Subject: Re: Marry me

  Dear Hajisan,

  Does that palace come with a harem of men?

  Ever hopeful in sunny California,

  Writer66

  Callie rolled her head on her shoulders and fought the urge to throw something huge at her computer screen.

  To: Writer66

  From: Chasingadream

  Subject: Connection!

  Hey Writer 66,

  I’m feelin’ you in a big way. We’d connect, I just know it. So give me a sign, here, babe.

  Bob

  Feeling her? Oh, God…please, make this stop. She was sick to friggin’ death of this stupid dating lingo.

  Connected, feeling it…

  She wasn’t feelin’ a thing but desolate and she just might connect that with a good right hook if she could just find a face to smash. Callie couldn’t do this anymore. Writer66 had to die and she was goin’ out in a blaze of glory.

  To: Chasingadream

  From: Writer66

  Subject: Re: Connection

  Dear Bob,

  Here’s your sign.

  No.

  Disconnected in sunny California,

  Babe AKA Writer66

  Fucking men.

  Fucking stupid, asinine, lame, dipshit, bullshit-spewing men.

  Callie wanted to hurl something. Break something and watch it shatter in a million pieces to appease this anger she felt with herself, with Brian, with Frank, with the whole damn world at large, but she just didn’t have the energy.

  What had begun as a way for Callie to earn back favor in the eyes of the big-wigs at California Hip was now the bane of her existence. Callie had come to hate her juicy lips. She wanted to gouge out her bedroom eyes and the last thing she wanted to do was feel anything ever again.

  Leaning forward, Callie shoved her keyboard aside with a rough hand and rested her cheek against the cool of her desk.

  Raw.

  She was so raw right now that one wrong word from someone and she couldn’t promise bad things wouldn’t happen. Really bad, ugly things.

  A thread.

  Callie hung by a thin one, dangling in the wind. One stiff breeze and she just might let go.

  Enough.

  She’d had enough of the pretty words that were vacuous and shallow. The lame, sticky-sweet crap these e-mails shoved down her throat like spoonfuls of sugar.

  Her sexy lips and bedroom eyes were retiring.

  Death to Writer66.

  Sexy Lips 66

  Dakota Cassidy

  Published 2017 by Book Boutiques.

  ISBN: 978-1-946363-17-6

  Copyright © 2017, Dakota Cassidy.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Book Boutiques.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, locales, or events is wholly coincidental. The names, characters, dialogue, and events in this book are from the author’s imagination and should not to be construed as real.

  Manufactured in the USA.

  Email [email protected] with questions, or inquiries about Book Boutiques.

  Blurb

  When Callie Winston researched on-line dating at Heavenly Hook Ups for her magazine column she had no idea she would end up receiving over 800 emails from men who had a fixation with her lips. She sure didn’t consider herself any Angelina Jolie. Not with her thighs.

  Callie’s research uncovered more than her share of men desperate for a good woman to meet and have coffee, shop the K-Mart Blue Light Specials, and then there’s those two for one coupons for a romantic evening out! She wondered what happened to candlelight and dinner.

  Except Callie discovered much more than fodder for a great column that will keep her hip and hungry co-workers from nipping at her heels. Then she heard from Brian_SOF. So what if his job wasn’t exactly nine-to-five. He looked great in khaki, he carried a big gun and he revved her slumbering libido into overdrive. What more could a woman ask for?

  Soldier Brian Benson first fell in love with Callie’s eyes. He knew her divorce left her wary of men, but he was trained to be patient. Except patience wasn’t that easy when he wanted forever with her.

  Author Message

  Darling readers,

  Sexy Lips
66 is a throwback to my early days of writing (written in 2005 or so), published with a now defunct small, digital press and long before I hit New York. I began this author journey writing erotic romance, so if it seems like there’s a lot of smexy herein, you’re right!

  Since the beginning of my career I’ve moved on to other things within the genre of romance like, paranormal, straight contemporary, and these days, cozy mysteries.

  If you dare to go any further, prepare to see a different, racier, but still snarky side of Dakota!

  Dakota XXOO

  PS Warning: Don’t visit the domains used in the book. At time of publishing, Web of Trust rates them very poorly.

  Previously Published

  (2006) Triskelion Publishing

  Dedication

  This book is for the women who’ve been scarred by a tumultuous divorce or a bad relationship and found the courage to fight their way back to the top of the heap by giving falling in love a second go ‘round.

  Never give up. Never settle for second best. Never say never…

  To all of you, from all of me.

  Acknowledgement

  Cover artist: Valerie Tibbs, Tibbs Design

  Chapter 1

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: No serial killer here

  Dear Writer66

  U sure r easy on the old eye. You have the purdiest lips I ever saw. I think I can take on a little fily like you. I’m no serial killer (your profile was funny). How bout you call me and well talk about it?

  Love,

  Martin

  How about you utilize the old spell-check, Martin? Callie Winston thought. It’s a gift from Microsoft—make friends with it.

  Did non-serial killers even know how to turn spell-check on?

  Purdy lips?

  Purdy? Good gravy. Martin was seriously offending her loyalty to the King’s English.

  Callie eyeballed her e-mail inbox at “Heavenly Hook Ups,” an online dating site she’d joined, and sat looking in utter disbelief at the enormous amount of e-mail she’d received. Her research for the humorous column she wrote at the magazine California Hip had become a monster of epic proportions like overnight. Callie decided Martin could wait until later for an answer to his e-mail.

  Callie’s hand shook as she was compelled to click on the next e-mail in a slew of them. They became a blur of black font as she read one after the other. This one was from a user who’d dubbed himself Manbeast and at first it made Callie snort. His userid was really kinda off-beat and she liked that.

  Then Callie shivered. Manbeast? What the hell was a Manbeast? Only way she’d know was if she clicked on the e-mail and opened it.

  She did so holding her breath and squinting out of one eye…

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: A poem

  So you’re a writer? I can write too. I wrote this just for you. I liked your profile. You’re hot. Your lips are sooo sexy. Please read my profile and e-mail me if you’re interested. I hope you like my poem.

  Roses are red

  Violets are blue

  I think I want to get with you.

  Love,

  Manbeast

  Callie twisted a strand of her hair as she pondered Manbeasts poem. I want to get with you?

  Callie clicked on Manbeast’s profile, conveniently available for her to peruse, just to the right of his picture, which wasn’t horrible. Not a lot anyway. He was attractive in a…well, a receding hairline way. Yes, that was it. In a very receding hairline kinda way. Hair wasn’t exactly a prerequisite in Callie’s book. Okay, so maybe the wrap-around might have to go, but he was kinda cute and his poem wasn’t awful, could be called creative even, albeit not swoon worthy. As she glanced at his profile, Callie noted they had nothing in common other than the fact that they both read.

  Manbeast read tech manuals and she read romance novels.

  Not a huge gap by any stretch of the imagination, eh, Manbeast? Callie snorted. Oh, and he lived in Kentucky. A hell of a commute to sunny California. She did state California applicants only in her profile, didn’t she?

  Callie re-read her entry into the dating world just to be safe as she looked at her picture and tried to understand how her lips could be considered even remotely sexy or for that matter purdy.

  Writer seeks REAL Man:

  I'm thirty-eight and single for the first time in 10 years! I’m a writer by trade and I'm really loving life. I like all sorts of stuff—stuff that you can only find out about if you contact me. I'm not into one night stands/bar hopping/bed hopping/ serial killers/ or health freaks. If you can't enjoy a bowl of ice cream without guilt then we can't hang out. I'm not a health nut, but I watch what I eat (most days) and I can wear jeans or a sexy dress. I'm low maintenance and take care of myself quite well, thank you. I love to laugh and talk and I swoon when a man behaves like a real man, and doesn’t just pretend to be one. I don't need oodles of attention and I'm not clingy—if you need to be the center of all things in my world—you need to look elsewhere, but affectionate is a good thing! I'd love to meet someone who has a good set of values—solid and unwavering—attractive is fine, but a good heart is BETTER. No PRETTY BOYS, please. I like my man to look like a man and I never share my mousse.

  About Writer66 Dream Date:

  I'd like to meet someone strong, and independent, who has his own place, likes to just have fun, loves animals and has good sentence structure ( I am a writer, LOL) and doesn't need me 24-7, but knows I'm there if it's necessary—someone who doesn't think smooth talk will get past me unnoticed and isn't Rico Suave slick. I don't need your money and I don't need you to fix my toilet, but I would like it if you are confident enough to do so. If easygoing, fun, love of life stuff is what you're into—then, take the bull by the horns and e-mail me! California residents only, please.

  Yep, she’d very clearly stated California residents only and had pretty much covered the gamut of her desires in a date—she’d written it as if she were really looking for her dream man. Callie couldn’t very well interview men from Kentucky. Tyler, her boss at the magazine, just wouldn’t allow airfare on her expense reports.

  Manbeast’s Kentucky residence made Callie decide to weed the rest of the e-mails out by location from here on out, thus trimming her response time to each of them and she would respond—to all of them. Callie couldn’t just ignore them, it wasn’t very good manners. Never let it be said she didn’t have proper cyber etiquette. Her fingers paused at the keyboard and then she let ‘er rip back at Mr. Manbeast with a snappy reply.

  From: Writer66

  Subject: Re: a poem

  Dear Manbeast,

  Roses are red

  Violets are blue

  You live too far away for me to “get” with you.

  But thanks anyway.

  Writer 66

  Callie straightened in her office chair and giggled maniacally at her response.

  Now that was fun. Get with that, Manbeast.

  Leaning back, she grabbed the mouse again and skimmed just the locales of the profiles attached to each e-mail.

  Bangladesh, Cairo, Zimbabwe, Iraq…you name it she’d received an e-mail from all corners of the earth and then some.

  It would seem that the other half of the world needed green cards.

  Callie sat back in her chair and gazed blankly at the computer screen, trying to catch her breath and glanced once more at the number off to the left that told her how many e-mails she’d received in response to her profile and picture on “Heavenly Hook Ups”.

  One hundred.

  One-friggin’-hundred e-mails in a day. Overnight…

  Holy, hell. What was wrong with these men? It wasn’t like she was Tyra Banks…it must be the “I can fix a toilet” thing. All guys wanted a chick that could be a domestic goddess while looking like the Tool-Time babe. Well, they were sadly mistaken if they thought Callie’s thighs could compete wit
h Pamela Anderson’s, but she just might skate by as a trophy wife for a sixty-year-old man.

  Oh, this one looked good. ED2476 was from California and he was six foot two, blond hair, brown eyes. Well, she liked men with dark hair, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and Callie was in no position to refuse manna from heaven. His subject line caught her eye. It simply said, Wow…

  From: ED2476

  Subject: Wow…

  Dear Writer66,

  Something about your eyes speaks to me. I don’t have words to describe the message they sent. I want to know you. I want to learn you from the inside out.

  Oh, by the way. Do you have any arms and legs? I’d like to see a picture of them.

  Respectfully,

  Ed

  Yeah, wow.

  Callie burst out laughing. What ED2476 wanted to know was if she was really five-hundred pounds before he took a chance on meeting her. Callie took another peek at the picture she’d placed on Heavenly Hook Ups. It was dreadful in her honest opinion. Just a head shot—it was all she was willing to put on the site for scrutiny in her ad. She’d had food in her mouth and had been caught off guard by an overzealous photographer at a Medieval Festival. Regardless, the picture seemed to be speaking to everyone from here to Bangladesh.

  What in the hell were her eyes saying to these guys anyway?

  They were big, black orbs of nothing with a little Estee Lauder shimmering gold for accent.

  Callie cracked her knuckles and sent ED2476 a message back.

  From: Writer66

  Subject: Re: Wow

  Dear Ed,

  Nope, I have no arms and legs. I’m just one big head…

  Limbless in sunny CA,

  Writer66

  Oh, was that too abrasive? Shit. It was too damn late now if it was. What kind of question was that? Did she have arms and legs? Good hell.

  Men…

  Callie took a deep breath and tried to remember most men were simple creatures, visual by nature. They wanted to see her entire package. If someone else asked her about her appendages she was going to ask to see their package.

  Callie swiveled her chair away from her desk and looked out of the window of her office, gazing at the shoreline in the distance. The soft swell of waves never failed to soothe her when she was overwhelmed.