A poem by Blaire Leon
If sex is dirty, why would I do it with someone I love?
If sex is dirty, then didn’t we all come from the dirt?
What if I want to get dirty?
What if I want to roll in the mud until I’m so fucking filthy that I’ll never be clean again?
When twenty-five-year-old graduate assistant Caiden Brenner asked Blaire Leon how old she was, she said she was a senior. He chose to believe she meant in college. They connect over Lord Byron’s Don Juan and, as their conversations become increasingly thicker with sexual innuendo, Caiden finds himself obsessing over a totally off-limits undergrad who’s bold, beautiful, brilliant, and one of the most passionate poets he’s ever met.
But it turns out Blaire hasn't been totally honest. She's the seventeen-year-old valedictorian of her high school class, taking courses at Sierra State while awaiting her acceptance to Stanford.
Will Caiden get too deeply into Blaire to back away before he finds out the truth? Or will their connection be enough to seduce him into risking his entire future on Jail Bait?
Goodreads Giveaway: https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/128130-getting-dirty
My 5 star review of Getting Dirty
I love taboo romances and the series title- Jail Bait, had me more than a little intrigued. What do you get when you mix slam poetry, am underage heroine, a twenty something smoking hot grad student, and a wickedly sinful love affair? Getting Dirty, that’s what you get. This debut novel from Mia Storm was fantastic. It's like she waltzed out of my taboo romance dreams and created Getting Dirty with me in mind! Her debut novel was anything but, it was well thought out, well written, and well designed. It was full of happiness, laughter, heartbreak, steam, and more! This author is one to watch.
Blaire Leon is a high school senior, and the valedictorian of her senior class, she is also taking classes at Sienna State- where she spots her professors grad assistant at the library and her female instincts take over. She is 17 but she exudes the confidence and sexual charisma of someone much older. I really enjoyed Blaire’s character. I could understand why she grew up far too fast, it didn’t seem like her parents were really parents so it was almost like she raised herself. And when she asks Caiden Brenner for help with an assignment, and to locate a book, things will never be the same.
Caiden Brenner is a graduate assistant and doesn’t have the best home life. He is one step away from making his dreams come true- but is he REALLY happy? Caiden is such a swoony book boyfriend, I loved him from the minute I met him in this story. He is really strong, and knows what he wants, and when he sets his sights on Blaire- nothing can stop him, well nothing but her age and the fact she is a student in one of his Mentor’s classes. He assumes Blaire is a senior in college, and not a senior in high school. So he doesn’t think he is doing really anything wrong. Until he finds out just how old she really is.
I mean this book was a breath of fresh air for me. I mean it has the words jail bait in it, so I knew what I was getting into. I was all over the place for this story. I loved it, I hated it. I fell in love with the characters, I wanted to rip some of them apart. All in all, this is a tale of love. And how falling in love with someone is easy, and doesn’t matter what age you are. Love is love! And it was SO steamy!! I also loved the slam poetry element, it was amazing to hear Blaire reading the poems, she was more than a little dirty- but I loved that about them. Totally panty melting.
I loved this story and I can’t wait for more, considering this is going to be a five book series. The next one is about Blaire’s brother Marcus, so that means more Blaire and Caiden- SQUEE!! I received an advanced copy in exchange for my honest review!
About the Author:
Mia Storm is a hopeless romantic who is always searching for her happy ending. Sometimes she’s forced to make one up. When that happens, she’s thrilled to be able to share those stories with her readers. She lives in California and spends much of her time in the sun with a book in one hand and a mug of black coffee in the other, or hiking the trails in Yosemite. Connect with her online at MiaStormAuthor.blogspot.com , on Twitter at @MiaStormAuthor, and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/MiaStormAuthor.
“What year are you?” I don’t even realize I’ve said it until it’s out of my mouth.
Her eyes flick from the book to mine. “A senior.”
I feel my eyebrows arch before I can stop them. “You look younger.”
She bites her lips between her teeth for a moment. “Is that good or bad?”
“Neither, I suppose.” But my insides burn, knowing that she’s not as off-limits as I originally thought. It’s nearing the end of January. Commencement will be here soon enough. She graduates and all bets are off.
“So…” she says, twisting a finger into the ends of her hair. “I know you like old, dead poets. How do you feel about hearing something fresher?”
I lean toward her. “Such as?”
“I’m reading in a poetry slam tonight. It’s just something over at Tino’s in Jonestown on the fourth Friday of every month. There’s no prize money or anything, but I perform something new pretty much every month.”
“A poetry slam…” I want to say yes in the worst way, but it feels dangerously like a date.
She must read the hesitation in my eyes. “If it’s too weird, no worries. I just thought, since you like poetry…”
She leaves the thought dangling. Like a noose. And I jump right into it. “Yeah. Why not?”
The answer to that rhetorical question is that it’s not May yet and she hasn’t graduated. I’m risking everything I’ve worked the last three years toward. My entire future. But the voice of reason is being drowned out by the raging waves of something rolling up from the deepest layers of my being like an undertow. Something base and essential. And unrelenting.
“Do you want to meet me there?” she asks, standing from her seat and giving me a better view of the entire exquisite length of her.
“Yeah…that’s probably best.” Plausible deniability. No, Dr. Duncan, I didn’t have any clue she’d be there. Just went to hear the poetry.
“Great,” she says as she gathers her book and shoves it in her bag. “It starts at nine. There are usually five or six poets and it’s a random draw, so I don’t know what time I’ll be reading.”
I nod without standing, no longer able to tame my erection. “I’ll be there at nine.”
“You know where Tino’s is?”
Electricity crackles under my skin. I’m really doing this. “Yeah. I’ll find it.”