What do you get when you mix a bachelorette
party, the queen of dating disasters, and a stripper so hot he was forged from
the fires of hell? Screwed. You get screwed....
Cocky. Commanding. Powerful. Relentless.
Those four words all summed up West Rykman
perfectly.
So did filthy, dirty, sexy, and addictive.
He was supposed to be my one night
stand...not my new marketing client.
He was definitely not supposed to be back
inside my pants, not that anybody told him that.
I knew one thing: What West Rykman wanted,
West Rykman got.
And he wanted me.
What happens in Vegas... might just make you
stay.
Excerpt
“You
should have come and got me when that prick made you uncomfortable.”
I
turned to face him. “Are you seriously telling me off?”
We
paused as the traffic stopped, and he cut his gaze to me. “I couldn’t see you.
I told you it wasn’t safe for you to go alone.”
I
rolled my eyes. “He was only there for two minutes. I would have stabbed him
with my stiletto before he could do anything.”
“And
I believe you, but it doesn’t change the fact that he made you uncomfortable.”
We
turned a corner.
“I
don’t want anything to happen to you just because you’re determined to do
market research.”
“Nothing
happened to me.”
“Mia,
it doesn’t change the fact that it couldn’t. He only left because I showed up.
I watched the entire fucking thing.”
“And
you only came in at the end? Gee, thanks, West. Knight in fucking shining armor
right there, aren’t you?” I ran my fingers through my hair and looked away. The
light curls were still in place, although they were more of a lazy wave, and I
stared at my reflection in the side mirror. “We should probably not do this
again.”
“On
the contrary, I was having fun until the end. I don’t have fun much.”
“Looking
out for me was fun? Yeah, okay.”
“I
told you,” he said, pulling up outside my apartment block, which was really
more of a converted three-story house. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.
I’d feel bad.”
“Well,
thanks. I’m gonna look over these notes in the morning and I’ll e-mail you.
Okay?” I paused with my hand on the door and glanced back at him.
He
was out of the fucking car.
Why
was he out of the fucking car?
“Why
are you out of the car?”
He
smirked. Damn that smirk. “I’m taking you up.”
“Like
hell you are.” I slammed the door and walked around the sleek Audi to stand
right in front of him. I looked up at him and caught his gaze. “I can make it
in and out of an elevator.”
“I’m
sure you can. But I’m still taking you up.”
“No.
You’re not!”
“All
right, then.” He grabbed my waist and lifted me.
A
shriek escaped between my lips as he swung me upward and over his shoulder. I
scrambled to keep hold of my purse, but he ignored me as he carried me inside
and pushed the elevator button.
“West!
Put me down right now!”
He
ignored me again and tightened his grip around my thighs when I tried to
wriggle down. His strength was crazy. I was stuck there.
“Put
me down! Now!”
He
shook his head, this time acknowledging my words. But that was it. A fucking
head shake.
“This
is hardly professional!” I yelled, my voice echoing off walls of the metal box
that was the elevator. I couldn’t believe he’d slung me over his shoulder like
some kind of caveman.
Yo,
Wilma, Betty? Fred and Barney escaped. I found one of them.
“West
Rykman, I swear to a god I don’t believe in that, if you don’t put me down
right this goddamn second, I’m going to tear your balls off with my bare hands
and shove them up your ass!”
The
elevators doors opened, and he took the few steps toward my door before
finally, slowly, lowering me back down to the ground.
“Ugh!”
As soon as my feet hit the floor, I stepped back and glared at him. “How dare
you manhandle me?”
He
fixed his bright, Caribbean-blue eyes on mine and curved his lips. “I told you
I was taking you upstairs. I didn’t tell you I was walking you up.”
“You’re
an animal.”
“You
weren’t coming up alone. I was raised a gentleman.”
That
made me stop rummaging for my keys and raise my eyebrows in disbelief. “You
take off your clothes for a living, and the first time we met, you flexed your
cock against my face.”
He
grabbed my waist for a second time tonight and spun
me against my door. I dropped my purse in my shock, but I couldn’t reach for it
because he’d cupped my chin and forced me to look at him.
“And
the second time we met,” he said in a low voice, “you flexed my cock against
the back of your throat. What point are you trying to make, angel?”
“That
you’re no more a gentleman than I am a lady,” I shot back. “Now, let me go so I
can go inside and consider how we continue this professional relationship.”
West
searched my eyes for a long moment before dropping his hand. He took half a
step back, and I went to reach for my purse, but he changed his mind.
He
smoothly spun back to me, and no sooner had I met the flash of his blue eyes
than he had his mouth on mine. I let out a quiet moan when he swept his tongue
across the seam of my lips and wrapped one arm around my waist. He pulled our
bodies together, my shoulders pressing into the door, and kissed me deeply.
My
head swam. I couldn’t make head or tails of this, and although it was wrong, so
wrong, I couldn’t stop.
The
kiss was hot—oh god, so hot—and my whole body felt like it was on fire as I
wound my fingers in the collar of his shirt and held him closer to me. His
fingers twitched against my back as one of his hands slid down and cupped my
ass. He squeezed, pulling my hips to his. His erection was obvious, pushing
into me, and I whimpered into his mouth.
God,
I wanted him.
He
pulled away from me as abruptly as he’d kissed me, but he didn’t move. His
mouth eased its way across my jaw to my ear, and his hot breath skittered
across my skin when he paused there.
“I
might call you angel, but I have a feeling you’re going to be my own personal
sin, Mia O’Halloran.”
He
kissed the tender spot just beneath my ear, making me shiver, and released me.
I struggled to control my breathing as I watched him walk away toward the
stairwell. He paused at the top, and I sank my teeth into my bottom lip.
He
turned.
Dropped
his gaze to my mouth.
Met
my eyes.
Disappeared.
I
sank back against my door. I could still feel his touch. His taste lingered on
my lips, and although it wasn’t anything incredibly specific, he was there,
teasing me without being near me. I brushed hair from my face, picked my purse
up, and dug for my key. I found it and let myself into the dark apartment.
I
locked the door behind me and walked to my bed. I’d barely undressed and
retrieved my phone with its alarm before I buried myself beneath the sheets.
Shit.
About the Author
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.
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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