EXCERPT REVEAL - The Enforcer (Kisses & Crimes #4) by Natalie Wrye

THE ENFORCER by Natalie Wrye releases April 30th - but can check out an excerpt from this steamy, mafia romance below right now!

About THE ENFORCER

Available April 30th

I was never supposed to be this woman.

I was supposed to be a super wife. A mom. A business owner. And I was...Until an armed robber sticks a gun into my face.

The man who saves me? Javier Mondello. My former high school crush. A tattooed troublemaker turned Adonis overnight.

A blast from the past too good-looking for his own good.

There's no denying it; the chemistry between us is all-consuming—electric.

But when danger finds me again, when a crime of opportunity takes a twisted turn, I can't decide which fate is worse: falling into the arms of my hero... Or finding out what he's really up to...

Be sure to sign up for Natalie Wrye's Reader Roundtable to be notified when THE ENFORCER goes live! http://bit.ly/NatalieReaders Subscribers also get an exclusive e-book copy of BEAUTIFUL LIAR!

Read an Excerpt from THE ENFORCER

I don’t hear the soft scuff of a shoe against the floor until it’s too late. 

The touch on my shoulder is soft, a caress almost. It makes me whirl on my feet, and the gasp I release from my lips is nothing but a scream trapped in my throat as I turn to see a set of green eyes glaring in my direction, a mass of dark hair framing a face seemingly chiseled out of stone. 

I stumble backwards, my body falling into the closed curtain. Thick fabric and phantom hands entangle my body, holding me and I flail at both, my fists beating against skin and silk. 

But the hands are too quick for me. Fingers grip my arms and shoulders, spinning me, and before I can say another word, my lips are clasped shut behind a calloused palm, the soft smell of men’s cologne overwhelming my senses. 

I whimper, but it’s no use. I am trapped. And the knowledge makes me claw. 

My fingernails break into skin, and as I pull at the fingers over my face, a voice, low and rumbling, ruffles the strands of my hair, puffing slowly over my skin. 

“Stop. Stop fighting,” the voice exhales. 

My chest heaves. Trapped front to back between a man’s torso and locked forearm, my mind goes into panic. The panic turns into a frenzy when the voice calls out louder, its reminiscent tone striking some small chord within me. He breathes my name. 

“Delilah.” I mumble, fighting for breath. His hand releases my mouth, moving ever so slowly. I lick my dry lips, my tongue searching for the syllables. 

“Who…” I swallow, my voice gasping. “Who—who are you?” 

“If I told you,” he responds, his words a molten flame, “you wouldn’t believe me. Better that I show you.” He releases me, stepping back. “Better that I show you me.” 

I turn, still in his arms, and take a deep breath. The fingers that hold me drop, and as I blink slowly, the face in front of me comes into focus, the stranger’s strong features coming into light with every agonizing second that passes. My heart beats double fast, my throat growing dry. I wrap a hand around my neck, still feeling the warmth of his fingers. My body goes numb. 

“Is it…?” I look closer, squinting. “It is you. Javi?” My voice feels small. I know his answer… even before he says it. His face is permanently imprinted on my brain. The dark-haired man nods. 

“You were expecting the Easter Bunny?”

About Natalie Wrye

Natalie Wrye is a tequila connoisseur, Game of Thrones addict and author best known for writing page-turning Contemporary Romance and Romantic Suspense.

A Jersey Girl living in the South, when she's not obsessing over a new Netflix series or yelling at college basketball games on TV, she's usually crafting sexy stories about hard-bodied men and the strong-willed women who crave them.

She loves it when people get weird with her on Facebook, NatalieWrye.com or NatalieWrites@NatalieWrye.com.

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EXCERPT REVEAL - The Other Brother by Meghan Quinn

I got the call. The dreaded call every child fears. My dad wasn’t well, and the man who had always been my everything needed me.

There was only one thing to do; pack up and head back to my hometown. I had finally made my dream life in the city with the great job and loving boyfriend. But was there really a choice not to go?
I found a wonderful job, a quaint house to rent, my boyfriend was working on joining me in Binghamton, and my favorite pizza place was only miles away. Life was good.

Until I met my neighbor.

It's been three years since I'd seen Aaron Walters, and my God is he all kinds of sexy gorgeous. Figures. He was supposed to be my forever, the man I grew old with, but he had different plans. How can a man who ripped my heart apart still trip me up? How can he make me still want him now more than ever?

I’m tempted, I’m drawn toward him, I’m completely and utterly unaware that I’m dating his biological brother.

Now two men own my heart. The question is, which brother will I choose?

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ENJOY THIS EXCERPT FROM THE OTHER BROTHER

Right on time, I’m impressed.
She doesn’t get out of her car right away, so I give her a second but then realize maybe she’s not exiting the vehicle because I have the key to the house and she has nowhere to go.
Wanting to make a good impression and seem approachable since I’m the property manager, I run my hand through my hair and adjust my jeans. I’m not wearing any fancy shit, but at least I don’t have holes in or paint stains on my clothes. I hop off my front porch and make my way toward her car, slowly, not wanting to scare her.
There is muffling coming from her car, voices I can’t quite hear, but I get the idea she’s finishing up a conversation, so I slow my pace drastically. That’s when I see her tilt her head down and look at me. From the reflection of the light off her windows, I can’t make out her features. I can only see a silhouette.
I lift a friendly hand in her direction to let her know I come in peace and make my way to her driveway. There is no wave back, but I do hear the telltale sound of her opening her car door. She steps out and when I round the vehicle, I catch the sun off her driver’s side window, temporarily blinding me.
Blinking my eyes a few times to calm my retinas, I bring her into focus.
“Aaron . . .”
Every hair on my body sticks straight up and my body goes still from that voice, that unmistakably sultry voice.
When she finally comes into view, I am met with a pair of hazel eyes I haven’t been able to get out of my head since the day she left town for bigger and better things.
“Amelia.” I clear my throat and take a step forward. “Wow, I uh . . .” Tongue-tied, that’s exactly what I am right now. “Didn’t expect to see you get out of that car.” I laugh nervously while I pull on the back of my neck, trying to comprehend what’s going on. I point with my thumb toward the house and ask, “You’re the new tenant?”
She nods and looks me over, taking her time with her perusal, her eyes burning a hole right through my clothes like they used to. When her eyes meet mine again, she asks, “You’re the property manager?”
I nod and swallow hard. “And neighbor.”
She presses her lips together, thinning them out. “What are the chances?” She laughs nervously.
“Yeah, especially since I thought your life was in the city.” I didn’t mean for that to come out rude, but it did. Gentling my voice, I ask, “What brings you back home?”
Staring at the ground, clutching her purse to her side, she says, “My dad. He’s, uh, not doing well.” Duh, Mrs. Ferguson mentioned something like that. I’m so damn overwhelmed and shocked right now though, that entire conversation I had with Mrs. Ferguson is not registering in my mind.
“Oh no.” My brow pinches together in concern. “What happened?”
She waves me off. “Nothing you need to worry about.” And just like that she shuts me down. Honestly, I’m surprised she said that much to me after how we ended things between us.
Yes, there was an us, a perfectly beautiful, love-filled us. Amelia Santos was the best thing to ever happen to me, and yet, she was also the worst. During a time where my heart broke from every uncaring glance from my mom, Amelia resurrected me from the ashes I would have otherwise drowned in. She was my rock, the one solid feature in my life.
She was also my downfall.
She was going places, and I wasn’t. She had opportunity, and I had none. She wanted me to move with her, and I couldn’t, but no way in hell would I hold her back. I barely made it out of my mom’s house. There were many days when I tried hard to earn a buck so I could find a place to live other than the homeless shelter where I spent many lonely nights. Amelia deserved better than that, so I pushed her away to achieve her dreams. Little did I know, breaking up with her would send me in the biggest downward spiral of my life. The only reason I’m the man I am today is because after hitting rock bottom, I knew things needed to change, and it was up to me to make something of myself. So I worked my ass off. And now at thirty, I can say proudly that I’m a co-owner of an up-and-coming construction company as well as the proud owner of a house in the heart of Hillcrest, a beautiful two-story house. I’m doing well for myself . . . at least that’s what I thought until Amelia stepped out of her car.
Now I’m questioning every little thing about my life leading to this point.

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped. 

Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking. 

Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze! 

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EXCERPT REVEAL - Tapping that Asset by London Hale

This is one sinfully spicy brew. Sneak a taste of Tapping That Asset by London Hale! 

Exclusively on Amazon November 2!!! 

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Try not to get worked up while you CHECK OUT THIS HOT EXCERPT:

Playing with my attraction to him was not fair. Not fair at all... but something I couldn’t resist. I grabbed him by the belt loop, pulling him closer, letting my robe fall open. Every moment of the night before came back to me in a flash — his smile when he first approached me, how he made me laugh at the bar, the way we’d inched closer as the night wore on. The first kiss — so strong, so passionate. The multiple orgasms as he’d fucked me on every surface in this hotel room.

But this time was different — this time, there was a swirl of anger between us. Of pain. The man wasn’t going to be gentle with me. A thought that only made my body burn brighter. Hotter.

AJ held my gaze, his eyes growing darker, his breathing too fast. He had to feel the same draw, remember the same moments. Hell, he’d bent me over this desk last night and pounded into me from behind. And now, hours later, here we were again, though with a little conflict in the way. There was no more understanding, no agreement between us on what this was or when it ended. There was only desire, tension, and that lingering sting of temper.

The room seemed to grow warmer, the attraction between us making our breaths come faster. I kept my eyes on his, kept him as close to me as he’d allow. I’d never wanted someone to break, to snap the thread of control holding them back, so much. Never wished for a man to take control and demand reparations from my body the way I did with AJ.

The way I knew I never would again with another man.

“AJ, I—”

“I shouldn’t be here. Not with the sister of the man putting us out of business.”

“Please.” I refused to let him go, pulling him closer. Nearly crying when he pressed his hips against mine. “I know how bad this is, I really do. I wish there were more that I could do to help. I wish...” I sighed, my shoulders curling. Surrendering. “I wish you were here for a repeat of last night.”

AJ dropped his gaze, his jaw clenching harder as he took me in. And yes, it may have been shameless, but I leaned back just a bit, let my robe fall over my shoulder an extra few inches. Made sure my legs were spread enough so he could catch a glimpse between my thighs. And I knew he did. I could feel how hard he was against me. This attraction definitely wasn’t one-sided.

He licked his lips, sliding his eyes up my body, past my exposed breast. “I don’t think you’d want me right now, pretty girl. I’m mad as hell.”

Fuck it. Time for a Hail Mary pass. I hooked my knee around his hip, running my toes up the back of his leg. “Mad doesn’t scare me. Never again feeling what I did last night does.”

“Mad means you’re not going to get what you had last night. No fun orgasms. No flirty stares over your shoulder while you ride my cock backward. Just pure, raw fucking.” He leaned over me, forcing me back as he ran his hand up my inner thigh. Teasing me with his fingers so close to where I wanted them. “I might even make you beg.”

A shiver racked my body followed by a surge of pride that was unavoidable. Beg? Hell no. I didn’t beg for anything. “I’d love to see you try.”

About London Hale:

London Hale is the combined pen name of writing besties Ellis Leigh and Brighton Walsh. Between them, they’ve published more than thirty books in the contemporary romance, paranormal romance, and romantic suspense genres. Ellis is a USA Today bestselling author who loves coffee, thinks green Skittles are the best, and prefers to stay in every weekend. Brighton is multi-published with Berkley, St. Martin’s Press, and Carina Press. She hates coffee, thinks green Skittles are the work of the devil, and has never heard of a party she didn’t want to attend. Don’t ask how they became such good friends or work so well together—they still haven’t figured it out themselves.

Find London online: 

Amazon → http://amzn.to/2uybkLD 

BookBub → http://bit.ly/2t5EPzS 

Facebook → https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLondonHale 

Goodreads → http://bit.ly/2tY7vxA 

Twitter → https://twitter.com/haleyeslondon 

Website → http://www.londonhale.com

EXCERPT REVEAL - SIN (A Vegas Nights Novel #1) by Emma Hart

SIN 

A Vegas Nights Novel Book 1 

By Emma Hart 

Standalone Release Day – July 18

Damien fox lived up to his name. Cunning, sly, and dangerous, fifty percent of Vegas’ strip clubs were his.

Whatever he wanted, money, attention, women, he got.

And now he wanted to buy my bar, no matter the cost.

I wanted him to go to hell on a first-class ticket.

He played a dirty game, and I followed his rules. I let him think he would win.

Despite our differences, it was clear to see that we were no more than two broken hearts colliding in the darkness.

Closed off, sexy, and holding a pain that would crush a lesser man, he was the ultimate sin.

One I couldn’t deny myself, even though I knew better than to trust a fox...

(SIN is book one of the Vegas Nights series. Each book in this series is a standalone novel.)

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“Why wouldn’t you talk about your work in the restaurant?” I set my purse on the floor by my feet and shifted to face him. “I’ve never seen anyone get out of a dinner so fast.”
A small smile tugged the edge of his lips up. “Just like I said in there, some things shouldn’t be discussed in public.”
“Like politics and religion.”
“You have a very smart mouth.” He glanced down at said smart mouth. “Do you ever turn it off?”
“Never,” I reassured him. “Now, we’re no longer in public, so tell me about what you do.”
He rested an arm along the back of the seats. His fingertips landed just inches from my hair, and I gave a cursory glance at their closeness.
Shivers tickled their way down my spine as he stared at me. He was entirely still except for the way his eyes flicked left and right repeatedly. It felt an awful lot like he was taking me in, committing me to memory for some strange reason.
“A lot of people don’t like me. Pissing people off is part of business, and I’ve done that a lot, so I try to keep my work private. It’s that simple, sweetheart.”
“I get it. But now, it is private.” I wasn’t going to let this drop. I’d quit reading before I did that. “I’ve told you a lot about my bar tonight, so now tell me something.”
“You have the innate ability to make me feel like I’m back in high school and writing an essay about being reasonable.”
“If you’d done that, you might know how to be reasonable.” I paused when he laughed. It was low blow time again. “Look, Mr. Fox—”
“Damien.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything about your business and what you do, but given that you’re failing embarrassingly in your attempt to buy my business, it’s probably in your best interests to start talking.”
He leaned forward and took my hair between his finger and thumb. Slowly, he twirled the strands around his finger, each twist lightly tugging against my scalp. “You should have been a cop. You’re very persuasive.”
“In that case, you could probably learn a thing or two from me. Your own skills are lacking.”
“I don’t know.” He dropped his voice to a low murmur. “I think, if I tried hard enough, I could persuade you into a few things.”
I raised my eyebrows. We’d moved on from talking about business. Once again, the Master of Deflection was doing what he’d been doing for most of our evening together.
“I still haven’t forgiven you for your antics yesterday, so I wouldn’t even try it.” I tapped his hand so he released his hold on my hair. It tumbled away from his finger so I could smooth the strands back down and gave him a pointed look.
“Forgiven me, or yourself?” His eyes glinted knowingly. Almost self-assuredly.
Hell, there was no almost about it. He knew exactly how I’d felt when he’d left me. He knew exactly what he’d done to me, and I did, too. Denying that I was annoyed at myself because I could still remember how it’d felt when he’d taken my chin in his hand was pointless.
“Both,” I answered, sitting up a little straighter. “That doesn’t invite you to exercise poor judgment and make another attempt to mix business with pleasure?”
“Attempt? Sweetheart, if I’d attempted to do that, there would have been a lot less business and a lot more pleasure before I’d left you.”
“You think I’d give in to you so easily?”
At those words, Damien slid smoothly across the leather seats. His arm, still resting along the back of them, hung down behind me, his thumb just brushing against my back. The rest of his body was mere inches from mine, and I bit the inside of my lip as he trailed his fingertips up my bare arm. My eyes followed his feather-light touch while his stayed fixated on my face.
He coasted his fingers over my shoulder where he touched them to my jaw. Lightly, he tilted my face around and up until I had no choice but to look him in the eyes again—to look right there where I could see exactly how much he wanted me.
Dark.
Hot.
Full of temptation.
Heavy and intense, his eyes screamed of raw lust and selfish need.
“I don’t think you’d give in at all,” he whispered. “I think your body would do that for you, and you’d be helpless to it.”
“You think a lot of yourself, don’t you?” I said quietly. I touched my finger to his belt, then ran it up the length of his torso, ghosting it over the solid packs of muscle that made up his body until I flicked the starchy collar of his shirt. “You think you can do this and I’ll give in to what is essentially a biological reaction? I’m stronger than you take me for, you know.”
He curled his fingers around my chin and dipped his face to mine. “She says with a racing heart.”
I pressed one finger against his mouth and ran another along his strong thigh…right up to where his hard cock was straining against the soft material of his pants. “Don’t you hate it when your attraction to someone is so obvious?” His jaw clenched. “If you have any sense at all inside that gorgeous head of yours, you’ll move your hand.”    

By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies—usually wine—and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy—unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

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EXCERPT REVEAL - Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny (Taking Shots #4) by Cindi Madsen

Every addict has their relapse.

CONFESSIONS OF A FORMER PUCK BUNNY

Taking Shots #4

Cindi Madsen

Releasing May 8th, 2017

Entangled Embrace

Confession #1: I used to be a puck bunny, but after a hockey player broke my heart, I gave up all things hockey. Now I’m just focused on finding a way to pass my math class so I can graduate college.

Confession #2: Ryder “Ox” Maddox’s deep, sexy voice sends fuzzy tingles through my entire body, and I’m powerless to stop it. Which is a big problem since the hot, surprisingly funny hockey player is my new math tutor.

Confession #3: I can’t stop thinking about how ripped Ryder is from all his hockey training, and how fun it’d be to cross lines with him.

Confession #4: I kissed a hockey player and I liked it.

Confession #5: If I’m not careful, I might relapse and fall for Ryder, and then I’ll be totally pucked.  

Every thought turned to how strong he was. How much I’d like to see all those muscles without a shirt in the way.

Once he’d counted off twenty-five, he stood and, as if he’d been reading my mind, peeled off his shirt.

I stared. Not subtly, either. Nope, totally unabashed, taking in every dip and groove of his sweat-glistened skin.

“Since we’re playing dirty,” he said, shooting his wadded shirt over to his bag. He grabbed my hand. “Last machine. I’m not sure you can handle it, though.”

“I’m not sure you can handle it.” As far as comebacks went, not my best, but I mentioned he was shirtless and crazy ripped, right?

He sat down on the leg machine, the one where the seat reclined at a forty-five-degree angle, and then he lifted the weighted bar that rested at shin-height with his legs.

He reached for my hand, and since I’d already talked trash, I took it, even though I was starting to think I wouldn’t be able to handle it. He pulled me toward him, and I had no choice but to run my shins into the weights or to straddle the machine. I chose straddling, but kept space between us like I had earlier.

My heart hammered against my rib cage, beating in time with his leg lifts, the steady clink of the weights filling the air. Ryder’s eyes remained locked on mine, and energy crackled in the air between us. He sat up enough to run his hands up my thighs.

A dart of heat shot through my core, and my breath lodged in my throat. Ryder’s fingertips skimmed the skin between my pants and shirt and desire danced across my nerve endings. Still our eyes remained fixed on each other, and I wasn’t sure I was taking in oxygen anymore.

A distant part of me whispered that if I didn’t stop this…whatever we were doing, I’d be in trouble. But fighting my attraction to him was exhausting and the ache that’d formed between my thighs grew more persistent, drowning out silly things like common sense.

I leaned over like I had before, my hands braced on either side of him. He lifted the weights again, and then he brushed his lips against mine. Just a quick slide of soft lips.

My throat went completely dry. I pressed my palm flat against his stomach and slowly slid it up, feeling his firm chest and the hammering of his heart, which echoed mine.

Ryder gripped my hips and pulled me down to sit on his lap, eradicating the space between us. He lifted the weights with his legs a few more times, each rep bumping me tighter to him. Friction was definitely happening, and with each lift, it became clearer and clearer how much it was affecting him as well.

The tiniest whimper escaped my lips and he raised an eyebrow that added even more smugness to the curve of his tempting mouth.

Two could play dirty. So I sank farther into his lap and he groaned.

Of course, all it did was give me dirty thoughts and turn me on that much more.

He lifted his legs two more times, the movement shaky. He slowly ran his fingertips up my arm, across my collarbone, up my neck, and then he reached back and tugged my hair free of its ponytail.

He drove his hand into my hair, cupped the back of my head, and for one torturous moment, time stopped, both of us suspended right there on edge of crossing lines.

Cindi Madsen is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance and young adult novels. She sits at her computer every chance she gets, plotting, revising, and falling in love with her characters. Sometimes it makes her a crazy person. Without it, she’d be even crazier. She has way too many shoes, but can always find a reason to buy a pretty new pair, especially if they’re sparkly, colorful, or super tall. She loves music and dancing and wishes summer lasted all year long. She lives in Colorado (where summer is most definitely NOT all year long) with her husband and three children. 

You can visit her Website, where you can sign up for her newsletter to get all the up-to-date information on her books. 

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EXCERPT REVEAL - Mister Moneybags by Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

I met Bianca in an elevator.

She was on her way to interview me when we got stuck.
The beautiful, raven-haired reporter assumed I was a delivery guy because of the way I was dressed.

She had no clue I was really Dex Truitt, the wealthy, successful businessman she’d dubbed “Mister Moneybags”—her afternoon appointment.

Bianca told me how much she hated Dex’s type—snobby, over educated, silver- spooned men who didn't appreciate the simple things in life.

So, after the elevator finally started moving again, I cancelled the interview and let her believe I was someone I wasn’t—a bike messenger named Jay. I loved the way she looked at the fake me and didn't want it to end.

I began dating her as “Jay”—all the while letting her interview the real me over email.

I didn’t expect that our chemistry online would be just as hot.
I didn’t expect the mess I’d gotten myself into.
I didn’t expect that Jay and Dex would fall in love with her.

And she was falling for two men.
Only, both men were me.
And when she found out, we were both going to lose her.

Nothing could have prepared me for that day. And I certainly wasn't prepared for what came after.

All good things must come to an end, right? Except our ending was one I didn't see coming.

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MEET BIANCA

I sighed audibly.  Are we even moving?  It was seriously the slowest elevator I’d ever taken.  Frustrated, and maybe a bit anxious to get the interview over with, I took another shot at the elevator panel.  Again, pressing the button repeatedly, I groaned, “Come on.  I’m already freakin’ late.”

I breathed a sigh of relief when the car seemed to finally pick up speed.  But then, it jolted to an abrupt stop, and the elevator went pitch black.

 “Well now you’ve gone and broken the damn thing,” a deep voice said from behind me.  Startled, I jumped and bobbled my cell phone in the dark, which resulted in it falling.  From the sound of it smashing against the floor, I knew it had broken. 

“Shit!  Look what you made me do.” I bent over and patted the floor, but I couldn’t find it.  “Can you at least give me some light so I can find my phone?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Thank you,” I huffed.

“If I had a cell phone on me.”

“Are you kidding?  You don’t have a cell phone on you?  Who walks around without their cell phone?”

“Maybe you should try it. If you weren’t so obsessed with yours, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

I stood, and my hands went to my hips. “How so?”

“Well, you were so busy typing away on your phone, you didn’t even notice another passenger was in the car with you.”

“And?”

“Had you seen me, you wouldn’t have jumped hearing my voice and broken your phone.  Then we would have had light, and you would be able to see that elevator panel well enough to push that button another twenty or thirty times. I’m sure that would’ve helped.”

I felt the man moving around behind me. 

“What are you doing?”

When he answered, his voice came from a different place.  It was to my left and beneath me.  “I’m on the floor looking for your cell phone.”

It really was pitch dark.  I couldn’t see a thing, but I felt the air move, and I knew he must have stood back up. 

“Put your hand out.”

“You’re going to put my phone in it, right?” 

“No, I’ve taken down my pants and I’m going to stick my dick in it.  Christ, you’re really a bitch, aren’t you?”

Thinking he couldn’t see me, I smiled at his sarcasm and put out my hand.  “Just give me my phone.” 

 MEET DEX

Wow. My little ball player was quite the fox.

I’d only seen her from the back before the lights went out. Now, I was staring into her beautiful, big brown eyes, feeling like this elevator mishap wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

She cleared her throat. “The lights came back, but we’re still stuck.”

I clicked on some of the buttons. “Seems that way. But this is a step in the right direction. I bet this thing will be moving in no time.”

And by this thing moving, I do not mean my dick, although I could have sworn I felt it twitch when she just licked her beautiful full lips.

Do that again.

Fuck.

She is beautiful.

My eyes travelled down the length of her body then back up again, loving how the small buttons on her conservative blouse formed a path up to her delicate neck. I wouldn’t have minded sucking on that skin.

Maybe I could entice her to play hooky with me.

“Where are you headed once we get out of here?” I asked.

“The thirty-fourth floor,” she said.

What?

What is she doing going up to my floor?

I know she doesn’t work for me. I would have remembered that face, those eyes.

“What kind of business you have going on up there?”

“I actually have the pleasure of interviewing Mister Moneybags himself.”

My stomach sank.

Ohhhh.

This didn’t bode well for me.

I swallowed then cocked my head to the side and played dumb. “Who?”

“The elusive Dexter Truitt. He’s the CEO of Montague Enterprises. They occupy the entire top floor.”

Trying to seem like I was not seriously about to lose my shit, I asked, “Why do you call him Mister Moneybags?”

“I just picture him to be this crabby, money-hungry asshole, I guess. Sounds like a fitting name. Of course, I don’t actually know him.”

“Why do you think that way about him, then?”

“I have my reasons.” 

Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times Bestselling author. With more than a million books sold, her titles have appeared in over fifty Bestseller lists and are currently translated in twelve languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six. 

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Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. She’s a fifteen-time New York Times bestseller of twelve novels. Having grown up in Boston with five older brothers, she spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor, before switching to a more family-friendly career. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 12-year-old girl with autism and a 10-year-old boy. Penelope and her family reside in Rhode Island. Connect with Penelope Ward 

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