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.
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“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.
By day, Ne
w 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.
w 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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