Bigger Rock Read online

  Bigger Rock

  Lauren Blakely

  Contents

  Copyright

  Also By Lauren Blakely

  About BIGGER ROCK

  BIG ROCK

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Another Epilogue

  MISTER O

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  Another Epilogue

  WELL HUNG

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Epilogue

  Another Epilogue

  FULL PACKAGE

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  Another Epilogue

  Also by Lauren Blakely

  Contact

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2018 by Lauren Blakely

  LaurenBlakely.com

  Cover Design by © Helen Williams

  Photo: Luis Rafael

  * * *

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This ebook is licensed for your personal use only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Also By Lauren Blakely

  Big Rock Series

  * * *

  Big Rock

  Mister O

  Well Hung

  Full Package

  Joy Ride

  Hard Wood

  * * *

  One Love Series dual-POV Standalones

  The Sexy One

  The Only One

  The Hot One

  * * *

  Standalones

  * * *

  The Knocked Up Plan

  Most Valuable Playboy

  Stud Finder

  The V Card

  Most Likely to Score

  Wanderlust

  Come As You Are (April 2018)

  Part-Time Lover (June 2018)

  The Real Deal (Summer 2018)

  Far Too Tempting

  21 Stolen Kisses

  Playing With Her Heart

  Out of Bounds

  * * *

  The Caught Up in Love Series

  Caught Up In Us

  Pretending He’s Mine

  Trophy Husband

  Stars in Their Eyes

  * * *

  The No Regrets Series

  The Thrill of It

  The Start of Us

  Every Second With You

  * * *

  The Seductive Nights Series

  First Night (Julia and Clay, prequel novella)

  Night After Night (Julia and Clay, book one)

  After This Night (Julia and Clay, book two)

  One More Night (Julia and Clay, book three)

  A Wildly Seductive Night (Julia and Clay novella, book 3.5)

  * * *

  The Joy Delivered Duet

  Nights With Him (A standalone novel about Michelle and Jack)

  Forbidden Nights (A standalone novel about Nate and Casey)

  * * *

  The Sinful Nights Series

  Sweet Sinful Nights

  Sinful Desire

  Sinful Longing

  Sinful Love

  * * *

  The Fighting Fire Series
/>   Burn For Me (Smith and Jamie)

  Melt for Him (Megan and Becker)

  Consumed By You (Travis and Cara)

  * * *

  The Jewel Series

  A two-book sexy contemporary romance series

  The Sapphire Affair

  The Sapphire Heist

  About BIGGER ROCK

  Once upon a time there was a cocky, confident, die-hard bachelor living it up in New York City. He was clever and charming, and he’d been living the good life. Then, one special woman — one very sassy, confident, and fantastic woman — knocked him on his ass, thanks to love that came out of the blue.

  Take that story and multiply it by four. That’s what’s in the BIGGER ROCK box set — four New York Times bestselling romantic comedies, told in the male POV, that established Lauren Blakely as at the top of her game in rom-com! You’ll find friends-to-lovers, best-friend’s-little-sister, boss-assistant, and roomies-to-lovers romances. Come meet the irreverent bachelor Spencer Holiday in BIG ROCK, the hot nerd Nick Hammer in MISTER O, his twin brother Wyatt, the sarcastic and sweet carpenter, in WELL HUNG, and the charming and brilliant doctor with the heart of gold, Chase Summers, in the #1 New York Times bestselling smash hit FULL PACKAGE. Get ready for a hot & hilarious ride!

  BIG ROCK

  ABOUT

  * * *

  It's not just the motion of the ocean, ladies. It's definitely the SIZE of the boat too.

  And I've got both firing on all cylinders. In fact, I have ALL the right assets. Looks, brains, my own money, and a big c&$k.

  You might think I'm an as%*$le. I sound like one, don’t I? I'm hot as sin, rich as heaven, smart as hell and hung like a horse.

  Guess what? You haven't heard my story before. Sure, I might be a playboy, like the NY gossip rags call me. But I’m the playboy who’s actually a great guy. Which makes me one of a kind.

  The only trouble is, my dad needs me to cool it for a bit. With conservative investors in town wanting to buy his flagship Fifth Avenue jewelry store, he needs me not only to zip it up, but to look the part of the committed guy. Fine. I can do this for Dad. After all, I’ve got him to thank for the family jewels. So I ask my best friend and business partner to be my fiancée for the next week. Charlotte’s up for it. She has her own reasons for saying yes to wearing this big rock.

  And pretty soon all this playing pretend in public leads to no pretending whatsoever in the bedroom, because she just can’t fake the kind of toe-curling, window-shattering orgasmic cries she makes as I take her to new heights between the sheets.

  But I can’t seem to fake that I might be feeling something real for her.

  What the hell have I gotten myself into with this…big rock?

  Prologue

  My dick is fucking awesome.

  But don’t just take my word for it. Consider all its accomplishments.

  First, let’s start with the obvious one.

  Size.

  Sure, some people will tell you that size does not matter. You know what I’ll tell you? They lie.

  You don’t want a tiny diamond on your finger when you can have three carats. You don’t want a one-dollar bill when you can have a Benjamin. And you don’t want to ride a miniature pony when you can saddle up on a rock-star cock at the rodeo of your pleasure.

  Why? Because bigger is better. It’s more fun. Ask any woman who’s ever had to utter the dreaded words, “Is it in yet?”

  No woman has ever had to ask me that.

  You’re probably wondering by now—just how big is it? C’mon. A gentleman doesn’t tell. I may fuck like a god, but I’m still a gentleman. I’ll open your door before I open your legs. I’ll hold your coat for you, I’ll pay for dinner, and I’ll treat you like a queen in and out of bed.

  But I get it. You want an image in your mind. A measurement in inches to make your mouth water. Fine. Imagine this. Picture your fantasy-sized cock; mine’s fucking bigger.

  Moving on to looks. Let’s be honest. Some dicks are just motherfucking ugly. I won’t get into all the reasons why. You know what they are, and when it comes to my best asset, all I want you thinking about are these words: long, thick, smooth, hard. If the Renaissance masters were carving sculptures of cocks, mine would be the model for all of them.

  But honestly, none of this would matter if my dick didn’t possess the most important attribute of all.

  Performance.

  Ultimately, a man’s dick should be measured by the number of orgasms it delivers. I’m not talking about the solo flights. That’s cheating. I’m talking about the Os that can make a woman’s back arch, her toes curl, her windows shatter… Her world rock.

  How much pleasure has my dick wrought? I don’t kiss and tell, but I’ll leave you with this. My dick has a perfect track record.

  That’s why it fucking sucks that he has to go on hiatus.

  1

  Men don’t understand women.

  That’s just a fact of life.

  Like that guy.

  The dude down there at the corner of my bar. His elbow’s on the metal counter in an aren’t I casual and cool pose. He’s stroking his handlebar mustache, and he’s acting like he’s the best listener in the world as he talks to a hot brunette with square red glasses. But the thing is, he’s staring at her rack.

  Fine, the brunette has nice tits. And I mean “nice” in the sense that they could occupy their own zip code.

  But c’mon, man.

  Her eyes are up there. And you’ve got to look at them, or the lady is going to walk.

  I finish pouring a pale ale for one of our regulars, a businessman who pops in once a week. He’s working the whole my boss sucks for making me travel look, and at the very least I can help him in the drink department.

  “This one’s on the house. Enjoy,” I say, sliding the glass to him.

  “Best news I’ve had all day,” he says with a small quirk of the lips, before he chugs half the glass and plunks down a three-dollar tip. Nice. The bartenders here, who depend on tips, will appreciate it. But Jenny had to take off early because her sister had some sort of crisis, so I’m handling the last of the customers, while my business partner, Charlotte, is managing the books.

  As Handlebar leans in closer to Red Square, she backs away, shakes her head, grabs her purse, and heads for the exit.

  Yup. I could be a fortuneteller if my specialty was predicting when a man would score and when he wouldn’t. Most of the time, the odds are definitely not in the dude’s favor, because he makes the most common bar mistakes. Like starting the conversation with a stupid pick-up line. “Girl, you make my software turn into hardware,” or “You should sell hot dogs because you sure know how to make a weiner stand.” Yeah I couldn’t believe my ears either. Or how about this mistake? The guy who has a wandering eye and can’t stop checking out the other attractions. What woman is going to find that flattering?

  The worst bar sin, though, is assuming. Assuming she wants to talk to you. Assuming she’s going home with you. Assuming you can kiss her without her permission.

  You know what they say happens when you assume.

  But me?

  Just check my diploma. I double majored in college with one degree in finance and the other in the language of women—and I graduated summa cum laude. I have an encyclopedic understanding of what a woman wants…and giving it to her. I achieved full fluency in female body language, the clues, and the gestures.

  Like right now.

  Charlotte is tapping away on her laptop and biting the corner of her lip in concentration. Translation: I am on a roll, so do not bother me or I will throat punch you.

  Okay, fine. She’s not really a throat-puncher. But the point being, she is giving off major Do Not Disturb vibes.

  Handlebar, though, can’t read, speak, or write Woman. He’s sauntering along the bar, getting ready to make a move. Thinking he’s got a chance with her.

  From my spot behind the bar, wiping down glasses, I can practically hear him clea
ring his throat as he preps to say hello to Charlotte.

  I can understand why the man has my best friend in his crosshairs. Charlotte is pretty much a goddess of the highest order. First, she has wavy, blonde hair, paired with deep brown eyes. Most blondes have blue eyes, so Charlotte gets major points for the killer reverse combo that just slams you with its unexpected and absolute hotness.

  Next, she possesses a fantastic dry sense of humor.

  Plus, she’s whip smart.

  But Handlebar doesn’t know those last two. He’s only aware that she’s gorgeous, so he’s about to make his play. He snags the stool next to her and flashes a toothy grin. She flinches, startled that this guy just invaded her blinders-on work zone.

  Charlotte can totally handle herself. But we made a pact long ago, and re-upped when we went into business together on this bar. If either of us needs a fake girlfriend or boyfriend to gracefully get out of a sticky situation, we’ve sworn to step in and act the part.

  It’s a game we’ve played since college, and it works like a charm.

  It also works because Charlotte and I would never be a real couple. I need her too much as a friend, and judging from the number of times she’s laughed with me, or cried on my shoulder, she needs me too. Which is another reason why this tactic is brilliant—we both know we will never be more than friends.

  I walk around the bar and head straight for Charlotte, right as Handlebar reaches her and says his name, then asks for hers.

  I slide in and brush a hand on her lower back, as if she’s mine. As if I’m the one who gets to touch this body, thread his fingers through her hair, and look into those eyes. I tilt my head and flash him the biggest shit-eating grin, because I’m the lucky son-of-a-bitch who goes home with her in this scenario. “My fiancée’s name is Charlotte. Nice to meet you. I’m Spencer,” I say, and offer a hand to shake.

  The guy wrinkles his nose like a rabbit, getting a clue that he’s just struck out again tonight.