BLURRED LINES

Friends-to-Lovers

A Love Story

Ebook and audiobook only. No paperback available, per decision of the publisher, Penguin Random House.

Steamy, with explicit sex scenes.

This book is written in first-person, alternating the heroine and heroine's POV.

Parker and Ben have been best friends since college, confident that they’re proof men and women really can be just friends. But when after a painful breakup, Parker turns to Ben to learn the art of casual rebound sex, everything turns upside down…

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My Bestselling Novel

BOOK DESCRIPTION

USA TODAY BESTSELLER |  Lauren Layne delivers a sexy take on the timeless question: Can a guy and a girl really be “just friends”?

When Parker Blanton meets Ben Olsen during her freshman year of college, the connection is immediate—and platonic. Six years later, they’re still best friends, sharing an apartment in Portland’s trendy Northwest District as they happily settle into adult life. But when Parker’s boyfriend dumps her out of the blue, she starts to wonder about Ben’s no-strings-attached approach to dating. The trouble is, even with Ben as her wingman, Parker can’t seem to get the hang of casual sex—until she tries it with him.

The arrangement works perfectly . . . at first. The sex is mind-blowing, and their friendship remains as solid as ever, without any of the usual messy romantic entanglements. But when Parker’s ex decides he wants her back, Ben is shocked by a fierce stab of possessiveness. And when Ben starts seeing a girl from work, Parker finds herself plagued by unfamiliar jealousy. With their friendship on the rocks for the first time, Parker and Ben face an alarming truth: Maybe they can’t go back. And maybe, deep down, they never want to.

an excerpt

I’ve made a mistake. A horribly foolish tactile error:
I’ve underestimated Ben.
I should have known better. I know him better than anyone. Know him better than I know myself. I know how competitive he is, and should have known that those competitive urges would apply to his sexual prowess.
And holy crap, the guy has a hell of a lot of that.
The first kiss had been tepid at best. He’d been trying too hard, yes, but it wasn’t all on him. Because I’d been trying pretty damn hard myself not to feel a damned thing. To not register that his lips felt just right and that he smelled really damn good. But there’d been too much brain at work, on both of our parts.
But this kiss—the second one—I don’t even know where my brain is located.
There are only hands and lips and the feel of an aroused Ben against me. I should be running for the hills, and when this is over, I likely will.
But for now . . .
I kiss him back.
I’ve never been kissed like this. Never been pinned against the wall, my hands held out of commission by strong fingers and even stronger arms. Never had my mouth devoured like it was the best kind of dessert as a firm male body reminded me exactly how female I am.
I try to remember that this is Ben.
I do.
And then his tongue finds my upper lip, flicking twice until I gasp, and his tongue slides inside my mouth, tangling with mine, and I forget that I’m Parker, and he’s Ben, and remember only that he is man and I am woman and that this is what we were meant to do.
I wiggle my fingers, twisting my wrists until he finally releases me, and my hands immediately go to his head, my fingers winding around his neck to keep his mouth close. His hands go to my waist, pinning me even more firmly to the wall as his hips tilt forward in a perfect reminder of what happens next.
And ohmigod, do I want what happens next.

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