Bad boy heir to the Fleming Group empire, Jamie ‘Hawk’ Fleming, at your service. Here’s the breakdown: my father has been thrown behind bars on murder charges, and my mother as accessory. That was three months ago, and since then everything has been a downhill ride.
The only thing keeping me sane right now is Hot Body. Her name is Layla, and all that matters is that she’s gorgeous, sexy, and great in bed.
Until one morning I wake up tied up and gagged, Layla standing over me. Sounds promising, huh? A pretty girl, handcuffs, maybe a whip?
Only the look on her face – and the pissed-off men at her side – tell me she’s not in a kinky mood, or at least, not the pleasant kind…
Standalone novel. No cliffhanger.
*Warning: this book contains graphic language, sex, and violence. Mature readers only. Not intended for young readers.*
“Why are you still here? You should leave. Now, before anyone finds you.”
She stills, then resumes gathering up a bowl and a spoon from the tray. “Not before we talk.”
“We have nothing to talk about. You should go.”
“No.” She shoves the tray away, bowl and cup and all, and gets right in my face. “Why are you doing this? Tell me the truth.”
“You heard everything.”
“Yeah, that you want in a shady organization, that you want your parents’ position. You crave more money, more power.” She waves a hand in the air. “I don’t believe you. Don’t believe any of this. You’re playing at something, something dangerous, and won’t tell me about it.”
“It’s for your own damn good,” I whisper, and fuck, did I say that out loud?
She leans in until we’re nose to nose, and fuck she smells good. “I’m not moving from here unless you tell me what’s going on.”
“No fucking way. You need to leave.”
“No.” She pulls away, which sucks, and pours water on a napkin. She puts her hand on my face and starts washing it with the napkin, wiping away the filth and dried blood. “Not unless you tell me more about this Organization you want to join.”
Fuck. This is why I’ve never let her get close. I knew something like this might happen.
I reach for her, manage to snag her arm despite the fact every muscle in my body hurts and my head is spinning. “You don’t wanna know about it, girl. Trust me on this.”
“But I do, I do want to know—”
“Have you heard a single word I’ve said? This is dangerous shit, and it has nothing to do with you.” I take a deep breath and force myself to go on, because fuck, my throat hurts, my head is pounding and the possibility of being sick all over her is still in the cards. “You don’t need to be here. There’s nothing between us. I can take care of myself. Just fucking go.”
There’s hurt in her eyes, there and gone in a flash. Which makes me frown. Fuck, that’s not good. She can’t have any expectations from me.
I tighten my hold on her arm until she winces. “I said go.”
“Fuck you, Hawk.”
“You got a filthy mouth.” And I want it on me, dammit. I jerk her closer to me. “I need you gone. Now.”
“Sucks being you, then. To not get what you want, for a change.”
“I always get what I fucking want.” And she’s pressed against me, soft tits pressed to my chest, soft mouth a breath away, long lashes shielding her eyes, and this is fucked up.
Because what I want is her. Have wanted her since I first saw her, in so many ways.