The following is an excerpt from "Sugar" [Skyhorse Publishing, $22.95], an erotic novel co-authored by retired pornographic actress Jenna Jameson and romance author Hope Tarr. The book follows a former porn star from Los Angeles to New York City.
Cole and Sarah stayed to see the two grooms off. Waiting until the last guest was out the door, he walked up to her. Even though they’d gone on with the reception as planned, he knew the paparazzi raid was uppermost in both their minds.
Laying his hands on her shoulders, he said, “It happened. It’s over. You need to try and relax.”
She exhaled heavily. “It’s not over. It’s just beginning.” Expression exasperated, she held out her phone. “Would you believe I already have an email from a TMZ reporter requesting an interview exclusive and another from Time Out New York? And it’s only been a few hours. Can you imagine what tomorrow will be like and the day after that—and after that?”
Unfortunately she wasn’t wrong. Taking the phone from her, Cole slipped it into his pocket. He wished he could do or say something to reassure her. He wished he’d done a better job of protecting her earlier. He wished he knew who the son-of-a-bitch was who’d outed them, if only so he could put a face to the fantasy of wringing the life from their throat.
He tried telling himself it could have been worse. They’d been together at a private function, a wedding. They’d been caught on camera while talking, not screwing as might have happened. For his part, it would be easy enough to claim they hadn’t been on a date at all but had met by chance for the first time.
Whatever flack he caught from his family and the Foundation donors and board would be minimal compared to the media stalking Sarah now faced. And not only her but those close to her. Liz, Jonathan, and the other FATEs stood to come under scrutiny as “Sugar’s” friends.
But they wouldn’t stop there. Reporters might soon be staking out her place if they weren’t already. A wise man would break things off between them but Cole made no claim to wisdom, not where Sarah was concerned. Even with his eyes wide open to all the risks, he wasn’t prepared to stop seeing her.
Feeling protective towards her, he tightened his grip. "One day at a time, we’ll deal with it. It’s not like it’s a matter of life and death."
For the space of several seconds, she stared at him strangely, making him wonder what he might have said. Giving up, he said, "I have an idea how to make you feel better."
At last, a smile! "Just one."
His hands slid away from her shoulders. "Well, one at a time." Taking her arm, he led her up the stairs to the garden room and through it to the gilded bathroom.
Seeing where they were heading, she darted a nervous look around. "Here? What if someone walks in?"
Reaching for the door with his hurt hand, he shrugged. “There’s an extra chair. I don’t mind if they want to watch so long as they don’t touch,” he teased though the thought of anyone but him touching or even seeing Sarah was crazy-making.
As soon as the door closed, he pulled her into his arms. Lowering his head, he matched his mouth to hers, kissing her thoroughly and deeply. Drawing back, he admitted, “I’ve wanted to do that since before we left the house. You look amazing.” You are amazing, he almost added, dragging his lips across the juncture of neck and shoulder.
She shivered and lifted her face to look up at him, the clouds in her eyes banished by the familiar light of desire. “You look pretty amazing yourself. I like you in tuxedos,” she said, toying with his lapel. “That reminds me. Don’t I still owe you a replacement one?”
Cole laughed. His hands slipped to her waist. “I’ll take it in barter.” Turning with her in his arms, he lifted her onto the marble-topped vanity.