center. Focus on the goal.”
A knock at the door startles me.
“You all right in there?” Devlin’s smooth voice, and the image of his tall,
handsome body leaning against the door, coming to check on me, cause the flutters
return as though they’d never been absent.
“Why does he keep being so nice?” I whisper to Monique.
Devlin knocks again.
“Ayron,” he calls.
“He’s outside of the door,” I snap into the phone while searching through the
small space for a window, porthole, trap door or something. “I can’t face him again, Mo.”
“Do I need to call an ambulance?” he asks.
“I’m all right, Devlin,” I squeak.
“You can do this, Ayron,” Monique reassures. “The ends will justify the means.”
Ending the call with Monique, I open the door to Devlin.
“Is everything all right?” He examines me, his gorgeous brows furrowed. He
places a steady hand on my cheek. “I thought you may have done a disappearing act
on me, until coat check said they saw you slip in here.”
“I’m fine,” I stutter, lost in the feeling of his caress.
“I wish that I could say the same.”
“What’s wrong?” It is my job to worry about him, to comfort him.
“I need you. This—” His mouth is against mine before I can speak.
If my mind would have allowed me to protest, I would have, but not telling myself
the truth is futile. I want him.
His skillful tongue breaches the cavern of my mouth, mapping the precise route
to elicit moans. Heat courses through me. Devlin had skyrocketed me to a new place of
pleasure with just the tangle of his tongue against mine.
In a swift motion, he hoists me against the wall and releases my breast from the
strapless gown. His hot tongue trails kisses down my neck onto my chest until capturing
my hardened nipple. Each suckle lulls me further into a dream world. His world, and I
am ready to sign up for citizenship, allow him to plant his flag in my fertile soil and claim
Locking my legs around him, I feel the full rise of his hardness between my
thighs, and I water at the thought of how good he could make me feel with other parts of
his body if he works his tongue this well.
I give in to the indulgence, a scorching shot of desire for this model-built man
damaging my self-control.
He tastes as good as he looks, and feels even better. Our tongues collide, and I
am at a loss for words. I can only moan.
Devlin moves his zipper loose and sanity begins to seep in.
I tear my face from his.
“I can’t,” I pant. “I can’t do this.”
His ragged breaths fall against my neck as he nuzzles the crevice.
“No worries, babe,” he whispers between kisses. “I’ll take care of you.”
I wiggle and motion for him to let me down.
“This isn’t right,” I say.
Devlin helps me to my feet and I fall against him, resting against his heaving
chest and thumping pulse.
He encapsulates me with his arms.
“I’m not out to just hit it and quit it,” he explains, placing a kiss on my head. “I
have never met a woman as caring and wise and as beautiful as you.”
I look into his eyes.
“Then there is no rush,” I remind him. “Good things come to those who wait. You
agreed to my thirty-day trial period.”
He punctuates his compliance by drawing in a long breath.
I step out of his embrace and fix my clothing. He tucks and straightens his
clothing as well.
“If that’s what it takes, then I’ll wait,” he exhales with a shake of his head.
I gather my emotions and willpower before exiting.
* * *
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Bought: A Bad Boy Romance by Molly Thorne
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I'm not like this.
At least, that's what I like to tell myself.
At first, everything was clear to me. The impulse that moved me was strong, sharp and pristine. I wanted to destroy this man.
But now I feel confused and guilty. Nothing makes sense anymore. Have I failed? Am I the target now? Or is it just that he has become a different kind of target? My motivations are muddy, my hate has lost its temper and now I don't know whether to slap his face or fall into his arms.
He's dangerous, to be sure. A cold, calculating man; his despicable actions warrant all the hate I can muster. But he's also able to say the sweetest words...
Lara Everwood faces a dilemma. Her father is lying in a hospital bed, victim of a man who's set out to take the work of his whole life. She knows the name very well: Theo Lambert, eccentric billionaire, playboy, traveller, alpha male, owner of an economic empire, and general asshole. Lara has a plan: she needs to get close to him, work with him, to find a way to make him pay for what he's done.
But as her plan comes to fruition and she gets to know the bad boy a bit better, things start to get complicated. Is she getting too close? Why is she suddenly not to sure about what she must do? What makes her dream about Theo punishing her when she knows just how bad he really is?
Lara is discovering the hidden side of the monster, and deep inside, she's hoping to find a heart of gold. But at the same time, Theo is coming closer and closer to discovering her own secret, her web of lies. And this is a dangerous thing.
Will Lara be able to exact her revenge? Is her father condemned to lose it all? Can Theo show that there is something of true value below all the layers of wealthy jerk? Will he end up discarding her as he does all other women? What will be the price to pay after being BOUGHT by him?
This is a romantic novella with no cliffhangers and a happy ending.
* * *
Excerpt from BOUGHT
* * *
Five minutes later, he called me into his office.
“Frank Mill comes at eleven, you say?”
“Yes.”
“To be punished?”
“For botching the contract in Washington.”
The punishing thing was a joke that was not a joke after all. Theo Lambert could be as ruthless with his own people as with the competition. Sometimes he’d ask me to set up a meeting with some manager “to be punished”. The punishment was no more than a long, concentrated dose of verbal abuse, ranging from irony to irate yelling, invariably ending in a cold dismissal. He never fired anyone, though. Not for this, at least. I knew his girls (well, his assistants) were always in rotation, but they were always the ones who decided to leave. And that was a completely different thing.
“So, that’s the first meeting. At eleven,” Theo said. “What time is it now?”
“Nine thirty,” I replied after glancing at my watch.
“We have some time, then,” he said, and sat up.
“For wh—?” I started to ask, but I stopped dead. I knew exactly what he was talking about. I read it in his eyes, clear blue eyes that were looking at me as eagerly as a hungry lion looks at his prey.
Suddenly, I felt as if the room were filled with a strange energy. I wondered if Roentgen, the scientist who discovered the X rays, had felt something like that when he made his discovery. I was discovering a new ray, a form of energy emanated by men like Theo Lambert. It was overwhelming and alluring, and left me with no energy of my own except for an intense desire, the desire of being taken by him. If I had been a scientist, I would have named this energy alpha rays, but I think the name was already taken.
“For this,” Theo said, and suddenly he was kissing me. The first thing that took over my perception was the aroma of his expensive perfume, barely covering the sme
ll of man that was beneath it, a primal smell that put all my senses in overdrive. The second thing was the wonderful texture of his lips, pressing on mine like an animal immobilizing its victim. Then the warmth and wetness of his tongue, making its way into my mouth, exploring it, filling all the cavities, dueling with my own tongue and always winning, making me lose my breath as the kiss continued and his hands started running up and down my back.
“Mmmmh,” is all I could say, as my arms embraced his magnificent torso through the expensive fabric of his suit and his fine shirt. Our bodies were touching each other now through the layers of clothing, trying to ignore them, to nullify them. My nipples reacted immediately to this new intimacy in which our skins were rubbing on each other even when we were still fully dressed.
“Mmh,” he mimicked, and started undressing me. He pulled up from the rim of my tight dress, moving it up inch after inch, with his own body getting in the way and complicating the procedure. He just didn’t seem to be able to detach from my body, both of us wanted to keep the intense contact of man on woman, woman on man, as the kiss went on and on.
“This is... ooooh,” I started and stopped again, because he had pulled up my dress up to my waist now, and my ass and crotch were fully exposed except for the area covered by my slim panties. His hands had stopped messing with the dress and were firmly grabbing my buttocks now; as I had interrupted the kiss to be able to talk, his lips were now running up and down my neck, rising goosebumps all over my face and chest.
“Wrong. This is wrong,” he said, and he somehow made it better, turning me on even more. I thought of how wrong it was (even more wrong than he realized), and felt incredibly dirty. I was such a bad girl! I was lying and betraying everyone all the time. And I wanted to be punished so much. He would be the one to punish me. Right there. Right then. With his manhood. He would push inside me with such force that he would make me scream.
And of course, he did. He didn’t even try to rid me of my panties. He just set them aside with one of his big hands, unbuttoned his tailored trousers with the other, and slid his member inside me without so much as a warning. I gasped, but his mouth covered mine and the gasp died in a new hot, wet kiss. He grabbed my legs and held me in the air, keeping me impaled in his cock. I held myself putting one arm behind his neck and tugging at his tie with the other. It was a fine tie, voluptuously silky, but strong as all hell.
“Damn,” he said, and he turned around until my ass touched the edge of his desk. He passed his arm over the surface, throwing papers and other things to the floor. I felt the touch of the cold glass in my buttocks as the warm mass of his virile member irradiated heat all inside me. My arm started sliding down his neck as I drifted back, then I let go and tugged at the tie with both hands, like a rider who mounted a horse from below instead of above. I hung from his tie as I started moaning and screaming in pleasure, contemplating Theo’s body against the sun that bathed the city through the glass, Theo still dressed, Theo looking more a bad boy and an alpha leader than ever, Theo pushing, pounding, time and time and time again, until I had to let go with a scream that must have been heard in all the fifty-two floors of the Lambert Tower. I lay there on the cold glass, feeling the delightful weight of his privileged body over mine, and fell asleep as I caressed the hair in the back of his head, as I felt the tender kiss of his lips going up and down my neck, marking it with his saliva as any savage beast would do.
* * *
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Dragon: A Bad Boy Romance by Lena Blackstone
* * *
He fights to live... but can he fight for love?
DRAGON
When I'm in the ring, nobody can touch me. I fight the only way I know how - alone. She's getting under my skin, but I can't allow it. I can either love her or protect her, not both.
Being with me could get her killed. If she knows what's good for her, she'll stay away from me...
HONEY
My life is a prison, built of fear and money. The only time I feel alive is when I'm touching him. He's like a drug to me. A drug I have to kick - for his sake as well as mine.
Being with me could get him killed. If he knows what's good for him, he'll stay away from me...
* * *
*****A standalone Bad Boy Romance with a HEA*****
* * *
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Made: A Bad Boy Romance by Allegra Ryan
* * *
The Bad Boy Games: there's nothing they won't do, no line they won't cross.
BROOKE
When it comes to bad boys, I'm smart enough to look and not touch. When it comes to Nathan, all I want to do is touch. . .
To get my little sister out of trouble, I have to play the game, his twisted game. The worst part? I love it. I didn't intend things to work out this way. I knew I was in over my head, but some part of me believed in him, that he really would help us.
The whole crazy thing began with a pair of red shoes and a contract. Now he thinks I belong to him. The scary part? He might be right.
NATHAN
Brooke thinks she's playing to save her sister. The truth? She's just another pawn running out of time. . .
So what? Her illusions aren't my issue. She also thinks I'm using her for my own dirty reasons, that I'm just another player. She might be right, but what I want is to move up in the organization and take my rightful seat at the table. I'm smart enough to realize that dream's likely never going to come true.
Still, the job has its perks, and one of them is that sweet redhead. I'm going to get my fill while I can--because the one thing the bosses can't take away from me--I play for keeps.
**MADE is a dark, bad boy romance. No cliffhanger, no cheating. Happy ending included**
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Bad Patient: A Bad Boy Romance Page 13