Kiss Me Tonight

Table of Contents

KISS ME TONIGHT

COPYRIGHT

KISS ME TONIGHT

CHAPTER ONE – REAGAN

CHAPTER TWO – REAGAN

CHAPTER THREE – REAGAN

CHAPTER FOUR – REAGAN

CHAPTER FIVE – NOAH

CHAPTER SIX – REAGAN

CHAPTER SEVEN – REAGAN

CHAPTER EIGHT – REAGAN

CHAPTER NINE – NOAH

CHAPTER TEN – REAGAN

CHAPTER ELEVEN – REAGAN

CHAPTER TWELVE – NOAH

CHAPTER THIRTEEN – REAGAN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN – NOAH

CHAPTER SIXTEEN – REAGAN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – REAGAN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – REAGAN

EPILOGUE – REAGAN

THE END

KISS ME AGAIN

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

BOOKS BY EMMA HART

KISS ME TONIGHT

Emma Hart

Copyright © by Emma Hart 2019

First Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Cover Design by Emma Hart

Editing by Ellie at My Brother’s Editor

KISS ME TONIGHT

CHAPTER ONE – REAGAN

Viva La Peen

There was a cock on my phone screen.

No, not a picture of my brother, although that would have been the appropriate introduction for such a thing.

Not a rooster or cockerel or whatever those cock-a-doodle-doo bastards were called.

An actual cock.

A dick.

A peen.

A pork sword.

A semen lollipop.

A jizz teat.

A sperm worm.

A cum gun.

An honest-to-God fucking penis.

Attached to an honest-to-God man.

Who had the honest-to-God wrong motherfucking phone number.

This wasn’t how most Monday mornings started. I didn’t want to drink my coffee with a side of dick pic, thank you very much. I wanted it with a side of hot, buttered toast, or maybe a shot of something stronger if it was that kind of Monday.

It was not that kind of Monday.

Yet.

It was pretty damn close.

I blinked at my phone screen as I stirred my coffee. I’d never received one of these before. I counted myself lucky, given the… liberties… people took with the internet these days.

How did this happen?

Was this one of those situations where a wrong number had been given out at the bar? Or was it a genuine mistake?

I didn’t understand how people could make genuine mistakes with numbers.

Did nobody save to their contacts list anymore?

Let me tell you, if I was going to send a picture of my boobs to someone, I wouldn’t be typing their number in. I’d be performing an FBI-level check-up on a suspicious person.

I probably also wouldn’t be sending a photo of my boobs to anyone in the first place.

I digress.

What was the appropriate course of action here? I mean, it was seven in the morning and I had to drink my shower, take a coffee, and get to work in an hour.

Wait.