Off Limits: Playboys of New York Series

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Off Limits: Playboys of New York Series Page 1

by Low, JA




  Off Limits

  Playboys of New York Series

  JA Low

  Contents

  1. Chloe

  2. Chloe

  3. Noah

  4. Chloe

  5. Noah

  6. Noah

  7. Chloe

  8. Noah

  9. Chloe

  10. Noah

  11. Chloe

  12. Noah

  13. Chloe

  14. Noah

  15. Chloe

  16. Chloe

  17. Noah

  18. Chloe

  19. Noah

  20. Chloe

  21. Noah

  22. Chloe

  23. Noah

  24. Chloe

  25. Noah

  26. Noah

  27. Chloe

  28. Chloe

  29. Noah

  30. Chloe

  31. Chloe

  32. Noah

  33. Chloe

  34. Noah

  35. Chloe

  36. Noah

  37. Chloe

  38. Noah

  39. Chloe

  About the Author

  The Dirty Texas Box Set

  Love in Colour

  Bratva Jewels Series

  Bratva Jewels Series

  Fate’s Plan

  Copyright @ 2018 JA Low

  All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. JA low is in no way affiliated with any brands, songs, musicians, or artists mentioned in this book.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Cover Design by Outlined with love

  Editor by Swish Design & Editing

  Created with Vellum

  1

  Chloe

  “You’re getting married!” Stella raises her champagne glass in the air as my bridesmaids all cheers her.

  I can’t believe I’m getting married. And what’s even more unbelievable, it’s to Walker Randoff, the man who I initially thought was the biggest dick in the entire world. Let’s face it, he has an ego the size of the football field he trains on every day. Can’t blame him—star quarterback, super bowl legend, crowned football’s sexiest man for three years in a row—he has women falling at his feet on a daily basis. The serial womanizer.

  Personally, I wanted nothing to do with him. I mean I’ve had to clean up one too many of his public relations nightmares over my time—the alleged sex tapes, the girls, the partying too hard.

  So, why on earth am I marrying him?

  The man’s relentless, and when he sets his mind on something, he goes after it. Eventually, he wore me down. Slowly but surely over the years, he showed me his softer side, cleaned up his image, stopped the womanizing, and that’s the man I fell for—not the football legend but the soul underneath all that bravado and pizzazz.

  Who can say no to a sexy footballer?

  Feeling ever so slightly nervous about the day, I wanted to have a small intimate affair, but Walker needed this elaborate day filled with celebrities and football legends. He’s invited so many people I don’t even know half of them. To be honest, it’s turned into a bit of a circus. He told me not to worry about a thing that he had it all covered. Who knew Walker had a Groomzilla inside of him? The more businesses who came to him wanting to sponsor the event, the crazier his ideas became. Honestly, if we could have eloped, I would have.

  “You look a little tense. Here, have some champagne. That’ll ease your nerves.” Ariana shoves a glass into my hand.

  “I wish I could drink.” Tracey pouts while her hands rub over her protruding stomach. “This little one’s doing somersaults because of all the nerves. I need him to calm down.” I smile over at my oldest friend, taking in her gorgeous bump, which is wriggling under her shirt.

  “He’s already a handful.” Watching her stomach contort, Tracey lets out a heavy sigh as Ariana hands her a glass of sparkling apple juice.

  I’ve known Tracey all my life. We grew up together as next-door neighbors. Our moms were best friends, which meant we were too. When my parents died in my final year of high school, Tracey and her mom, Linda, took me in. My older brother, Elliot, was living overseas attending culinary school, so he couldn’t take care of me. We became family.

  She and my brother are all I have left in the world. As much as I love her, Tracey always gets herself into dramatic situations, especially if it involves a bad boy—bad boys are her kryptonite. That’s how Tracey’s found herself in the situation she’s in now—pregnant and alone. The douche she was dating up and left her when he discovered she was pregnant. Who the hell abandons the mother of your child like that? He kicked her out of their home, which meant she was pregnant and alone.

  Thankfully, I have an extraordinary fiancé, who understands the fact that Tracey and I are family and suggested she move into our guest house, so she’d have access to our staff, have security surrounding her, and most importantly, be close to us. He even flew her mother out to live with her to help Tracey prepare for the baby. He’s a keeper, that man.

  “It’s so great the five of us are back together again,” Emma squeals, popping another bottle of champagne.

  “Um… you guys catch up all the time.” Lifting the glass to my lips, I take a sip of my drink.

  Emma, Ariana, and Stella all live in New York. We’ve known each other since college. Ariana studied architecture, and I met her on the first day as we were assigned as roommates. We then met Emma, who was sitting on a park bench on campus, crying. Ariana and I had to checked on her. She told us she’d just found out one of her sorority sisters had been sleeping with her boyfriend. That’s when we took her under our wing and brought her into our little duo.

  Emma’s recently started her own fashion marketing agency, which has taken off quickly. Years spent modeling and working for designer brand companies has given her great connections, enough to finally launch her own agency.

  And Stella, the newest member of our group, she’s my brother, Elliot’s publicist. My brother is kind of famous—insert eye roll—he’s a celebrity chef. For some reason, women like him a lot, judging from his Instagram following. Pretty sure the half-naked videos online help his popularity. But to me, he will always be stinky Elliot. He’s currently based in New York where his first restaurant is located, but he’s been slowly opening restaurants in other cities. He’s actually working on one in Las Vegas at the moment, and I’m so proud of him.

  “I’m so nervous,” I state voicing my feelings to my friends. “Walker’s kind of gone a little overboard… with everything.”

  “Understatement of the year,” Ariana snorts.

  “It’s cute that he’s so into getting married,” Stella, ever the romantic adds.

  “Enjoy the day. You won’t have another like it,” Tracey states, which sounds more like a warning than a pep talk.

  Maybe it’s her hormones, and she does
n’t realize how it sounded.

  I notice Ariana and Emma looking at Tracey with frowns on their faces.

  Did they hear her tone, too?

  “Lucky Walker has organized a million and one cameras, so I won’t forget it,” I awkwardly tell her.

  “Come on, let’s go get pampered.” Stella quickly changes the subject.

  * * *

  There’s a knocking sound coming from outside, and Ariana stands to open the door.

  “Evening, ladies.”

  Walker strides into the suite, confidence oozing from his every pore. “Baby.” He grabs me, picking me up in his arms, and kisses me. Total Hollywood style. My friends holler and throw profanities at me.

  “I just needed one last kiss before I marry the shit out of you tomorrow.” He places my feet back to the floor.

  I’m all giggly after one too many glasses of champagne. “I can’t wait to marry you, too.”

  “I wish you were staying with me tonight.” He nuzzles into my neck, giving me goosebumps.

  “I do, too.”

  “It’s tradition,” Tracey reminds us.

  I roll my eyes and suck in a deep breath of his cologne. He always smells so good.

  “I’m going to miss you. My hand is a poor substitute,” Walker whispers to me, sending shivers over my body.

  “I promise to make it up to you on our wedding night.” Shooting him a cheeky wink.

  “Yeah, you will,” he growls, gripping his large hand on my ass.

  “Please don’t make me puke, guys,” Ariana jokes.

  “I hate being apart from you.” Walker pouts, giving me those puppy-dog eyes I can’t resist.

  “It’s only twenty-four hours. Then you’ll have me in your bed forever.” That comment makes him smile.

  “Can’t wait.” He kisses me again. “Well, ladies… I must be off. All this…” he waves his hand over his face, “… needs eight hours.” His beauty regime is way more rigorous than my own. “See y’all tomorrow,” he says as he heads to the door.

  “Walker, wait,” Tracey calls out.

  I notice his shoulder tense when she says his name. I’ve never seen that before, I think to myself.

  Tracey turns to us. “I’m going to head to bed, too.” Her hands rub over her belly. “Otherwise I’m not going to make it all day tomorrow.”

  I’m surprised she’s lasted as long as she has, being so heavily pregnant. Tracey says her goodbyes and walks out the door with Walker.

  When I turn around, I notice Ariana’s still staring at the door with a frown on her face. “Everything okay?” I question.

  She shakes her head as if clearing whatever she’s thinking from her mind. “Yes. Sorry. Got distracted by a work thing.”

  She’s lying to me. I know because her right eye has the faintest of twitches, which is her tell.

  “He’s such a good guy,” Emma moans, flopping herself backward on the sofa. “I want one of those. This being single shit is exhausting.”

  “What! No good men in New York?” I ask.

  “Please… I’ve been working twenty hours a day. I don’t have time to date.”

  “Um… what about that male model? What’s his name?” Stella adds.

  “Ivan?” Emma rolls her eyes.

  “Yeah. That one. He’s so hot.” Stella practically drools.

  “He was stress relief. The man’s boring. Hot men don’t have to try at all. They just need to show off their abs and chiseled jaw, and women drop their panties instantly.”

  Emma’s right. But there are hot guys with great personalities out there, she just needs to make time to find them. But, starting your own business doesn’t really leave much time for anything else.

  “I can’t walk into a meeting without some guy trying to mansplain architecture to me. Me, the person you hired to build your freaking home.”

  “You’ve met EJ, haven’t you?” Stella adds.

  EJ is my brother’s nickname, it’s short for Elliot Jones.

  “The ego of a chef … man, they’re the worst.” She turns to me. “No offense, Chlo.”

  “None taken. My brother’s ego’s pretty big.”

  “I bet that’s not the only thing that’s big.” Emma waggles her eyebrows at Stella.

  “Ew…” I curse Emma.

  “Emma!” Stella squeals.

  “As if you don’t know,” Emma goads her on.

  “He’s my boss,” Stella argues.

  “That’s the best kind of sex. On the desk with the blinds shut. Late at night, or on your knees under his desk while he’s on the phone.” The room goes instantly silent at Emma’s words. “What?” She looks at us all innocently. “Don’t tell me none of you haven’t done anything like that?” We all shake our heads. “I had no idea my friends were such prudes.”

  “No, I don’t want to get fired or ruin my reputation,” Ariana adds.

  Emma waves her hands in the air and sings, “Whatever, guys. Let’s pop some more champagne.”

  2

  Chloe

  My bridesmaids are all snoring softly. Carefully, I pull back the covers of my bed quickly swinging my legs to the side, my toes digging into the carpet. I dare not breathe as I don’t want to alert them to my defiance.

  Glancing at the clock, it’s just past midnight, so technically it’s my wedding day, and I’m not breaking any rules or tradition.

  Look, it sounds like great logic at this time of the night.

  I’m simply going to sneak into Walker’s room, have a quickie, and then come straight back. Spying my dress from earlier, I quickly change into it, sans the underwear.

  Walker’s room is on the other side of the resort, so I have to walk through the lobby to get to his tower. Silently moving through the suite, grabbing the spare key to Walker’s room from beside my purse, I start tiptoeing down the hallway. Ever so slowly, I turn the door handle, praying it doesn’t make a sound, which it doesn’t, and sneakily I slip through.

  Yes. I throw my arm up and fist pump the air.

  Quietly but quickly, I make my way to the lifts before anyone notices I’m missing. The girls will kill me if they knew what I’m up to.

  Eventually, I make it to Walker’s penthouse. Slipping the keycard into the door, the green light flashes. Thankfully the door doesn’t creek, alerting him to my presence. The room’s dark, he must be asleep, but as I enter further, I can hear a woman’s moan.

  My heart begins to beat quickly.

  Is Walker watching porn?

  “Yeah, baby.”

  I still.

  Walker’s voice goes through me like ice.

  I turn the corner into the living room, and there is my pregnant best friend riding my soon-to-be husband on the sofa. My mind and body go into shock, unable to comprehend what I’m seeing.

  “That’s it, Mama. Ride me. Ride me,” Walker tells her as they both come together.

  Tracey giggles, a light sheen of sweat covers her face.

  Walker looks at her, and like a dagger to my heart, he wraps his hand around her neck and kisses her.

  Oh, fuck! I think I’m going to be sick, but my feet are rooted to the floor.

  Walker’s attention is drawn to Tracey’s bump. “I can’t wait to meet my little man.”

  Wait. What did he just say?

  I stumble slightly, my palm touches the hallway wall.

  “He can’t wait to meet his daddy, too,” Tracey purrs.

  “I’m glad you’re living with us. It means I can spend as much time as I can with him.” Walker smiles, but Tracey’s face changes.

  “I don’t understand why you’re still marrying her.” There’s that tone again, the one she showed me earlier today.

  “Tracey…” Walker’s voice is like steel. “I love Chloe.”

  “Yet, you’ve been fucking around with me for the past year.”

  That news sucker punches me, and I close my eyes while the pain starts to register inside me.

  “You’re the one who came on to me.
Remember?” Walker reminds her.

  “You didn’t put up much of a fight,” Tracey snarls.

  “You told me you were happy to accept whatever I gave you.”

  “But, I’m having your baby. I should be the one getting married to you. Not her.” I’m surprised by the venom coming from Tracey’s lips.

  Taking a step back, I press myself against the hallway wall hoping somehow, I can disappear like a puff of smoke from this nightmare.

  “I can’t afford a scandal. And this would most definitely be a scandal.”

  “But—” Tracey begins to argue.

  “No.” Walker raises his voice, “You want me to lose millions of dollars in sponsorship? You want to lose access to that credit card I gave you. The allowance. The trust fund?” There’s silence. “Didn’t think so.”

  I can’t listen to anymore. Pushing my jelly-like legs to move, one in front of the other, I slowly make my way out of the hotel room.

  The bell of the lift brings me back into the moment a short time later.

  What the fuck!

  How could they?

  How fucking could they?

  Tracey—she’s like a sister to me.

  And she’s been fucking my fiancé for the past year.

  And she’s having his baby.

  His baby!

 

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