First Time Escort (Forbidden Fantasies #13) Read Online S.E. Law

Categories Genre: Erotic, Forbidden, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Forbidden Fantasies Series by S.E. Law

Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

First Time Escort (Forbidden Fantasies #13)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

S.E. Law

Book Information:

I didn’t mean to get pregnant my first time as an escort.

Lucy: It wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t even supposed to be there, but my friend Rose begged me to take her place as a “lady of the night” (ahem, ahem). She promised it would be nothing more than dinner with a handsome billionaire … but then I got pregnant.

Shane: My eyes bugged out when Lucy strolled into the restaurant. I thought I was meeting a professional, but instead, the curvy girl is innocent, lush, far too young … and also my best friend’s daughter. I won’t lay a hand on her because I’m an honorable man, until Lucy begs me to take her for a night of passion. But actions have consequences, and soon my best friend’s daughter is expecting my baby. What she doesn’t realize? That I’m claiming her and the child as MINE.

This book will blow the top off your head off with its incredible steam level! Lucy and Shane know each other but they don’t *know* each other until an unexpected night of passion. It’s illicit, forbidden, and totally tasty! Make sure you have a fire extinguisher nearby because you’ll need it! No cheating, no cliffhangers, and always a HEA for my readers.
Books in Series:

Forbidden Fantasies Series by S.E. Law

Books by Author:

S.E. Law



I reach the end of the long hallway and key into my dorm room. As I throw the heavy door open, I’m already starting to swing my backpack off of my shoulder and up onto the door hook where it will stay for the remainder of the weekend. I practically run to my side of the room. As I collapse onto my twin bed, I let out a long-held sigh of desperately needed relief.

“Ready for the weekend much?” I hear my roommate tease.

“Oh, you have no idea!” I groan back to her without lifting my head from the pillow, my voice a whiny, scratchy mess. I continue to unload on her.

“My professor in Advanced Psychological Statistics is a nightmare. I have no idea how I am ever going to get through this semester. I mean, I thought my practicum this fall was bad, but these advanced level classes don’t even compare. And then I’m expected to write my capstone thesis on top of it all!? I don’t know if it can be done, Rose!” I whimper and rub my eyes melodramatically. I am clearly having a bit of a melt down here.

But honestly, show me a college senior who isn’t in constant panic mode for the entirety of their last semester. There is so much riding on these last few months of our lives as we know it. And not one professor bothers to take the time to tell us how we should cope! Shouldn’t time and stress management be a required first semester course?

I hear Rose snickering at me. I prop myself up on my elbows to face her. As I lazily rise from the pillow, I grudgingly attempt to open my eyes back up to the world.

It’s always so damn bright in our dorm. I know that I really shouldn’t be complaining because it’s a rare privilege to have so much natural light in a dormitory. But sometimes you just want a little ambiance, something along the lines of a low amber glow versus the fiery beaming sun rays we’ve been stuck with.

Rose and I lucked out and got the corner room on the twenty-eighth floor of our dormitory, meaning we have two large windows overlooking the skyline instead of one. To reiterate, I honestly shouldn’t complain because the view is phenomenal, with a sweeping vista of the emerald green grass below topped by the stately buildings that make up our campus.

The room itself is fairly decent looking as well. We strung tiny fairy lights around the white wooden window frames and scattered a few small golden papier-mache lanterns on the ceiling to match - as if we needed more light in here. The lanterns and fairy lights are exactly the type of decoration that suits us because our room has a real boho-chic / feng shui vibe going on. We even added a few fake plants to complete the look.

Rose snorts again, and I roll my eyes at her rude expression of amusement.

“I’m glad my existential crisis is making you laugh,” I kid her.

“Oh Lucy, always so dramatic. We all know that if anybody on campus has their shit together, it’s you.” She turns her head over her shoulder to shoot me a knowing grin as she calls me out on my melodramatic attitude.

I’m about to snap back a snarky retort, but then I do a double-take at my roommate’s appearance. “Oh my god, Rose,” I say as concern quickly rises in me. “Are you sick, sweetie?”

She looks godawful, and I can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner because it’s really obvious. My roomie is kneeling on the floor in a tight blue mini, and her long brown hair is draped over her right shoulder in an elegant French braid. She’s holding a concealer compact in one hand and a makeup brush in the other but the problem is that all the powder in the world can’t hide her red puffy nose. The thing looks like a clown nose, it’s so bright and swollen. Not only that, but her eyes are bloodshot and heavy and she lets out a huge achoo! as I stare. Clearly, she is way too sick to be going wherever it is she plans to go in that mini.

“No, I’m fine.” My roomie waves a hand indifferently at me to tell me not to worry about her, but it is plain to see that she is not fine.

“Rose, don’t be silly. What is going on? Why are you pretending to not be sick when you so obviously are?” I ask, dumbfounded.

“Lucy, I told you I’m—AH-CHOO!”

“Yeah, not sick,” I say in a wry voice. I grab a blanket from the foot of my bed and wrap it around my shoulders. Just seeing her in such condition makes me want to spend the rest of the day rolled up in blankets with a warm bowl of frothy soup.