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𝙎𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙮
I don’t seek out gorgeous men with psychotic tendencies,
But damn if they don’t have a way of finding me.
Beautifully broken. Endlessly tempting.
Each day at work, my brooding Irish boss acts like he wants nothing to do with me.
And every night, he stalks me like I’m the very air he breathes.
So why haven’t I tried to escape him?
Maybe he’s not the only one who’s a little broken.
𝙏𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙣
I’ve never known obsession until now.
I hate the way it feels.
The conflict.
The cravings.
Stormy Lawson consumes my every thought.
I yearn to punish her for being so damn irresistible.
I ache to own her, so I never have to know life without her.
But more than anything, I’m compelled to slaughter anyone who touches her.
𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘈 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘙𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘚𝘢𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴. 𝘐𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 (𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴), 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺, 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘣 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘣𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦.
𝘈 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳: 𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘺/𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦, 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘺’𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵-𝘸𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘧𝘶𝘭. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘍𝘌𝘌𝘓𝘚, 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘶𝘱!
* 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐'𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 "𝘮𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦." 𝘔𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘌𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!
GOODREADS GIVEAWAY:
“The fuck are you doin’ here, Storm?” My words came off harsh. I’d already been on edge, but those words two words that still echoed in my mind stirred up a surge of anger. I had no business thinking of her as mine.
If not yours, then whose?
My chest clenched tighter at the mental image of her leaving the club with that man. Someone as vivacious as Storm would be scooped up by someone, sooner rather than later. Was I ready to accept that?
“Micky. She wanted to come.”
I’d been so pre-occupied that I hadn’t even seen Micky.
Storm continued. “We were going to see you fight but … I couldn’t … the others were different. I couldn’t stand…” Her now glassy eyes cut to my busted cheekbone, then drifted to each bruise and scrape like she was cataloguing my injuries. Was she reassuring herself I was alright?
Fucking Christ, this woman.
This was bad. I was too on edge, and she was too fragile. We were going to do something we’d regret.
I needed to walk away, but there was no chance in hell. I needed to feel her. Taste her. Reassure myself she was whole and healthy and mine.
Fuck.
I needed to own her.
Maybe once I had her, the obsession would ease. So much of this was probably my own damn fault for telling myself she was forbidden. If that was the case, maybe I could free myself with one quick fuck. I’d see that she wasn’t anything special and move the fuck on.
My dick was already solid stone, ready and impatient. He didn’t care what rationalization I used, so long as it got him buried where he wanted to be.
Storm bit down on her lip then peered up at me through her forest of black lashes.
The air around us shifted as the last tether of my self-control unraveled.
I walked her backward, ripping off my wraps to free my hands. I didn’t want anything getting in the way of my ability to touch her. To feel her body shiver and shudder beneath me. With her back against the cold metal lockers, she was mine for the taking, until the door opened behind us.
My eyes stayed glued to hers. “Get the fuck out,” I barked.
“Everything okay in here?” Bishop. Annoying fucker.
“We’re good, so long as you disappear,” I growled back.
The door clicked shut, and I knew he’d gotten the message. He wouldn’t allow any more interruptions.
I guided her jacket over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Finally breaking our stare, I slowly lowered my gaze to where her chest heaved beneath a thin cotton shirt. Like moth to flame, my hand rose to cup her breast. It was involuntary. Necessary as breathing.
My eyes clenched shut as I relished the feel of her warm body in my grasp. How many fucking times had I imagined this moment?
Stormy gasped at my initial touch but didn’t stop me. In fact, her chest swelled on a heavy breath, pressing herself harder against my palm.
“I don’t understand. I thought you didn’t…” She paused, as if reluctant to continue her thought.
I stilled, wanting to know what she was thinking. “Didn’t what?”
“Didn’t want anything to do with me. You act like I’m a pain in your ass.”
“You are a pain in my ass.” My voice was as ragged and unforgiving as my need to possess her. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to bury my cock deep inside you.”
Her eyes widened a fraction, the pupils dilating. She liked it when I talked dirty. Jesus she couldn’t be any more perfect.
“Pants. Off.”
She started to obey, getting so far as to lower the zipper, then paused. Her brows drew together. “I need to know why, Torin.”
“Why I want to fuck you?”
“Why you came for me.” Vulnerability softened her voice and stiffened my cock.
The answer was simple. “Because you needed me.”
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To read the First Chapter Click HERE!
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Jill is a Texan, born and raised. She manages the hectic social calendars for her three active children and occasionally spends an evening with her dashing husband. Aside from being an author and a mom, she's a travel junkie and loves to read when she is not lost in her own stories.
With Jill’s books, you can count on confident heroines, plenty of steamy tension, and deliciously assertive leading men. There are no guarantees in life, but with her books, you know everything will work out in the end. However, a perfect ending would not be nearly as satisfying without a seemingly insurmountable challenge. Jill loves to add plenty of adversity in her stories, creating unforgettably dynamic characters and sneaky plot twists you will never see coming.
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