⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Amazon CA Review for The Price of a Promise - “This is an interesting read that keeps you engrossed until the end.”⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Amazon Review for The Price of Revenge - “I absolutely LOVED this sexy, spicy, sultry story from Ember Leigh!”⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Amazon Review for The Price of Passion - “This book threw me in for some twists and turns. As soon as I started reading I couldn’t put it down.”⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ for The Price of Infamy from Laurie Reads Romance - “I inhaled this book like it was the air I needed to breathe!”
.jpg)
Jordan is off-limits: not only is she my client’s sister, she’s ten years my junior. But that’s not stopping me from making her mine…I’ve protected more princesses, celebrities, and billionaires than I could shake a bulletproof vest at. I’m ready to move onto less dramatic pastures: becoming the CEO of my own protection company. Until the Fairchilds ask me to personally oversee their little sister Jordan, who they’re desperate to reconnect with—and keep safe as she enters into their world.
I’d do anything for these guys – so of course I say yes. Besides, I know the two most important rules of this biz: don’t mount the ward, and never become emotionally involved. I’m positive this assignment will be the final slam dunk in my close protection resume…until I see her.
She’s five foot nothing with gray eyes that put me in a chokehold. Barista by day, stripper by night, Pokemon hunter in-between. She can’t even blink without making a few guys cream their briefs. I think I know what to expect from a fire-breathing brat like her, who pushes and pulls at every opportunity.
But it turns out, she’s everything I didn’t expect to need.
As my assignment turns into co-habitation and so much more, all the rules fly out the window. This love could destroy me, and the mission we’re on could ruin both of our lives if it goes sideways. We’re fighting for the fate of her brothers…and Jordan is prepared to pay the ultimate price to save her family.
.png)
.png)
I resumed my previous position in bed, my back to Seven, snuggled into endless pillows. But sleep didn’t come. Daylight sure did, though. It crept through the one room-darkening curtain I’d failed to close entirely, giving the room enough of a glow to ensure I didn’t fall back asleep. I sighed, flipping onto my back.
And then I turned onto my other side, facing the wide expanse of Seven’s back.
Goooood morning.
I gobbled up the sight as if it were my first drink of water after a full night’s shift at the club. Cut lines, defined traps, a wonderland of muscle and olive skin. Scars crisscrossed his left shoulder. I admired the precise lines of his fade for what felt like a half hour. When he turned onto his back and slung an arm over the top of his face, I relished the opportunity to see his body from a new angle.
Wiry, dark armpit hair. Finally, blessedly, I saw the biceps that made his button-ups strain at the seams. I squeezed my legs together, my gaze drifting lower. The sheet was pulled over his stomach. But the man had to have perfect abs. With arms like this, it would be illegal not to.
For God’s sake, does this man have abs?
Seven sighed, moving his arm from over his face. He turned his head toward me, peering through one slit eye. “Do you always stare at people while they sleep?”
I was so dumbfounded by the fact that he’d noticed me staring that my mouth flopped open like a fish’s.
“You’re making it impossible to actually stay asleep,” he added.
My brain kicked into gear. “Just trying to figure out where you store all your warmth and good humor.”
A smirk curled at the edge of his mouth as his eyes drifted shut. “You’ll never know.”
I sniffed, turning away from him. “I’m beginning to think you don’t have any at all.”
“Close protection officers aren’t required to have any.” The early morning grit of his voice made my pussy clench. I squeezed my eyes shut. Why was this man so unbearably attractive?
“Then I can call off my search.” I fluffed up the pillow beneath my head, already wanting one more glimpse of his sexy face. All I could think about was how he might feel against my bare skin. Wrapped up in him, beneath the sheets. We were so close, but a world away.
The sheets rustled from his side of the bed. The bathroom door clicked shut a moment later. I looked at his abandoned spot in the bed—searching, but for what, I didn’t know. Part of me wanted to sniff his pillow, but that was fucking weird—too weird even for me. I huffed, throwing back the covers. Might as well get up and start figuring out what came next. I tore open the curtains, letting in the blinding and beautiful morning. I actually gasped at the view of Central Park through the windows.
I’d never seen the park from this angle, in all my years living in the city. While I knew that Central Park was technically large, seeing it from this high made it seem like a sprawling jungle. The canopy of trees ranged from dark green to vibrant yellow, orange and rusty brown in various shades of autumnal glory.
The bathroom door opened and I turned to face Seven. I don’t know what I was expecting. Fully clothed, gun in holster, regularly scheduled programming? I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.
Tousled, black hair. The square jawline that framed those perfect, plump lips. His chocolate puppy dog eyes sweeping over my body, leaving tiny explosions in their wake. And his body—gloriously uncovered, available for viewing. His silky black boxer briefs had an unnaturally large bulge between his legs. I blinked a couple of times, wondering if this was an optical illusion. His dick can’t be that big when it’s soft, right? I tried desperately not to stare, moving my gaze instead to his sculpted thighs. Dark leg hair. And the abs—oh, fuck me, the abs.
My brows furrowed as I beheld him. The longer I looked at him, the angrier I got.
He paused in the doorway, squinting at me like this encounter could go sideways. “Why do you look so angry?”
“You’re just…wearing underwear.”
He blinked a few times. His confusion helped me realize that I hadn’t made any sense at all. But there was no way I could explain. Not without outing myself.
“So are you,” he said.
“Right, but I’m like…” I gestured at my simple tee and undies, which were mostly hidden by the shirt. “You’ve seen me in way less.”
“Should I put pants on or…?”
“No. It’s fine. I mean, unless you were planning on it. I don’t want to plan your clothes out. I’m not your mom.” I breezed out of the room, trying to act confident. But internally, I was melting down. Not a word I’d said made sense.
I just needed to get away from those man thighs. And the possible monster dick.
No comments:
Post a Comment