What do you get when you mix a bottle of tequila, a single mom moonlighting as a stripper, and her sinfully sexy boss with an impulsive side?
Married. You get married.
Rich. Demanding. Hot. Crazy.
That was Beckett Cruz in a nutshell.
Not to mention wild, determined, dangerous, and forbidden.
He was my boss—and, after a drunken moment of insanity, my new husband.
An annulment was impossible... so was keeping him.
I was taking my daughter and leaving, determined to give her a quieter life.
But Beckett Cruz had never taken no for an answer.
And he wasn't about to take mine.
What happens in Vegas... might just keep you there.
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EXCERPT
“Beck?” I managed to get his name out just before
he opened the front door.
“Yeah?” He spun back to face me, his dark eyes
unreadable.
I turned my face to the side so I could see him
fully. “You don't have to go,” I said softly. “You can stay.
Only if you want to though.”
He rubbed his hand down his face, his eyes never
leaving mine, then walked back into the kitchen toward me. I stood up
away from the fridge as he stopped right next to me.
Slowly, he touched his hand to my face, his
fingertips teasing my hairline. His dark gaze searched mine, and my
heart jumped into my throat as the usual tingles his touch sparked
danced down my neck. Then, he slid his hand into my hair, allowing
the blonde strands to fall away from his fingertips.
“Do I want to go home to my big-ass house with its
cold emptiness?” he asked in a low voice. “Or go to the club
where half the girls there still see me as a mountain to be
conquered? Not particularly, Blondie. I'd rather stay here. Even if
there will be a demand for movies and water and foot rubs from a
tiny, sick person.”
“You can.” My voice was quiet, like his. Even if
my internal screams from self-preservation and vulnerability were
deafeningly loud as they told me I was a fool, that he had to go,
that this would never be enough for him.
“Do you want me to?” His question was... honest.
Raw.
Hesitant.
Like he didn't want me to answer.
“Do I want you to stay here in my tiny house
so my daughter can fall more in love with you than she already is?
Not really. But...” Don't be a fool,
Cassie. Don't admit you want him to stay. He's just going to hurt
you. “I don't exactly want you to go
either.”
“For her, or for you?”
“I don't want to answer that question.”
“If I kissed you right now, would you ram your knee
into my cock?”
“I'd briefly consider it, but I probably wouldn't
do it.”
His lips twitched to the side. “You just answered
the question.”
Then, of course, he cupped the back of my head, and
he kissed me. It was slow, sweet, gentle. And I didn't consider
kneeing him in the balls for a single second.
Beck pulled back and trailed his hand down my arm
before he finally let me go. “I'm going home to get changed and
then come back. Do you need anything while I'm gone? For CiCi? You?”
“I don't...” I sighed and chewed back my pride.
“I meant to go to the store today after work to get some stuff like
bread, milk... important stuff. But now I can't.”
“I can get it. Just tell me what you need.”
I bit the inside of my lip, then nodded. “Okay. Let
me write it down.” I walked through into the front room with him
hot on my heels and grabbed the notebook and pen from under the
coffee table. A few things were already scrawled down, so I added a
couple more things, including more medicine. I tore the sheet off the
notebook, stood, then gave it to Beck. “Let me get my wallet.”
He grabbed my wrist, stopping me. “I'm not taking
your money.”
I lifted my gaze to his. “You can't pay for my
groceries.”
“I can and I will.”
“You can't and you won't.”
“I can and I will.”
“You can't and you won't.”
“I can do this all day, baby. I'm stubborn as
fuck.” His eyes told me he wasn't lying. “And we all know I'm a
brat about the word no. So, I can, I will, and I'm going to. If I
can't help you by buying a measly eight items, I'm an asshole who
shouldn't be allowed around other people.”
“You can't buy my groceries,” I repeated. It was
a lame argument. I was going to lose, but I'd fight until I went
down.
Beck's eyes twinkled as he leaned in. “Don't worry.
If you really want to pay me back, I'll take a blow job. I imagine
your lips around my cock will be a pretty good thank you.”
My jaw dropped as he backed off with a wink.
“Mouth open already, Cassie? Enthusiasm. I like
that.”
I snapped my jaw shut and glared at him. “You're a
dirty pig.”
“I know. But I've got fifty bucks that says you'll
be sucking my dick by bedtime. If you don't agree...” He shrugged
one shoulder, his lips curved in that dangerous smirk.
“If you're lucky, I'll bite it.”
“I'll take that as I'm in for a good time.”
One more wink, complete with expanding grin, and he
was gone.
Motherfucking asshole.
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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