by Aubrey Irons
Tempting and volatile; he’s the hottest thing that never should have happened to me.
It was supposed to be a one-time thing; my one one-night stand. He's the tattooed, bareknuckle fighter with a body built for sin who I found beaten and bloodied in my elevator that night. He's the one I patched up, the one I took care of, and the one I apparently couldn’t say no to when his mouth touched mine…
A one night stand. Just one night, right?
Yeah, wrong, because I just found out my “mysterious stranger” is actually going to be my brother-in-law in half an hour.
Logan f**king Dempsey. The arrogant, panty-melting, rude and crude Marine-turned-billionaire who runs my late father’s company. He’s my new boss. He’s the best man in this wedding. He’s everywhere, and I can’t escape him.
No matter how wrong it might be…
*****
Holy f*ck. Of all the girls in all the world, she has to be the random chick who found me that night and saved my f*cking life?
She looked strangely familiar that night. Now that I know who she is, it’s like original sin staring me in the face.
Good-girl doctor, totally off-limits Quinn Archer is literally the last girl on the whole damn planet a screwed-up guy like me should have anything to do with. I know this, I swear I do.
There’s playing with fire, and then there’s sticking your hand in the flames. If I keep ignoring the rules, we’re both going to get burned. It’s just…
Yeah, f*ck the rules; she’s gonna be mine.
***This is a standalone book with a HEA, though there are plot threads that continue through the full series.***
Author’s Copyright
Copyright © 2015 Aubrey Irons
Cover Photo: _Italo_/DepositPhoto
Bdibdus/DepositPhoto
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Cover Design: Aubrey Irons
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission, except in the case of brief quotations used for review.
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.
This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please do not continue reading this book of you are under the age of 18 or are offended by content of this nature.
All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older and all acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual.
Dedication:
To my husband, for bravely refusing to call me crazy even when I get wild ideas in my head such as quitting my job to write novels. Without you, who would remind me that it’s time to actually close the laptop and go the heck to sleep sometimes?
To Kate, Nate, Jesse, Hayden, Roxie, Sennah, Nora, and Kat.
To Lee, for demanding that I dream.
New Release News:
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Author’s Note:
All books in the Soldiers of Fortune series are in fact standalone, HEA titles. That said, your enjoyment of this story may be even more enriched by reading Heat, book 1 in the Soldiers of Fortune series, that tells the story of Reagan and Hudson, first. Check out the teaser chapters at the end of this book to read more.
Click the book cover above, or the link below to read it now!
Heat: A Soldiers of Fortune Romance
Book 3 of the series will be released in late September/early October.
Click here to join the mailing list to be the first to know when it drops!
An Excerpt:
His grabs me tight against him, and I melt into him as he growls into my kiss, bruising my lips and sending jolts of pain and pleasure through my whole body as his strong hands wrap around me. He’s pushing us back towards the kitchen area, grinding into my hips and pressing my ass back against the island counter as his lips crash against mine. I’m gasping as his hand slips into my hair, gripping it tightly and pulling it back sharply as his mouth drops to my neck and my collarbone, and then further down to the tops of my breasts. Hands tear at the front of my blouse, actually ripping the buttons off in his hunger to strip me.
He moves his mouth back to my lips, and I’m leaning towards him before he pulls back with a wicked glint in his eyes; “So, are you going to do what I fucking tell you to do now?”
I’m briefly shocked at the roughness and the power in his words before I realize I’m even more shocked at how turned on they have. I’ve never been spoken to like this, and the fact that he’s so dominant has a fever heat spreading quickly between my legs.
“I don’t know,” I sneer out with a glint of sass in my own eyes; “Maybe.” It’s a flat out dare, and I can see the fire spark in his face.
“Don’t test me, Quinn.”
“Oh yeah?” I toss back, biting my lip and feeling my pulse racing through my veins as I feel the thick hardness in his pants pressing hotly against my thigh; “What are you gonna do, spank me, Logan?”
It’s everything I have not to actually moan as I see the truth writ large in the sharp look that spreads across his face; “Try me.”
My breast comes ragged in my lungs and the thundering heat pulsing through my body is threatening to tear me apart as I raise up my chin, defiantly; “You wouldn’t dare,” I whisper.
I gasp as he suddenly spins me around and bends me over the kitchen counter with a growl as he lifts my skirt up and starts to yank my panties down; “Logan-!“
Smack!
The sudden sting and heat of his palm across my ass has me crying out in shock. His hand lingers on the tingling feeling, teasing the skin there for a second before he draws back and brings it slapping back down across my bare ass again. I cry out again, but this time the thudding of my pulse and the raw desire that floods through my whole body has me melting for him.
Logan Dempsey is spanking me, and as I moan and blush, I realize it’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever felt. There’s something insanely arousing about being bent over my kitchen counter like this while this tattooed, cocky, dominant man pulls my panties down and spanks me, and it has me dripping wet for him.
“And now?” He growls out, his voice thick with lust as he leans down to husk the words into my ear. I bite my lip and push back against him, feeling his cock pressing against my bare thigh through his pants.
I shake my head, slowly; “I- I’m not sure.”
Smack!
The sting of his palm against my hot skin has me writhing against him, moaning as I gasp at the contact. I can feel his finger teasing over the heated, reddened and tender skin there, before he slides them further, down between my legs. I moan loudly when his fingers find my wetness, slipping easily inside as he begins to rhythmically curl them against that perfect place right inside. He leans over me again, pressing his bulge against my thigh as he slides his other hand into my hair and uses his grip to pull my head up.
“Such, a fucking, tease,” He growls into my ear, and when I feel his thumb brush against my ass, I actually whimper as the throbbing waves of pleasure shudder through me.
“Who’s- oh God - who’s teasing now?” I
gasp out, pushing back against his fingers that have me teetering on the edge of crashing into an orgasm while maddeningly and purposely keeping me from actually doing so.
His fingers curl deep inside of my wetness, his thumb just teasing my ass, and his hand just pulling my hair enough to make me gasp as his teeth graze over the nape of my neck; “You better ask me nicely then, darlin,” he whispers darkly into my ear.
What a fucking week.
I toss back a hefty gulp of the champagne I swiped from the catering tent, wrinkling my face at the fizzy bubbles tickling my nose.
Flats; I definitely should have worn flats, I grumble to myself and hike up my bridesmaids dress with one hand as I stalk my way high-heeled through the rose garden.
Ok, I'm well aware that sneaking off to the greenhouse in the back gardens of my father's estate to slam down stolen champagne probably isn't what I should be doing thirty minutes before my sister's wedding. But with the week I've had, I'm basically categorizing the bubbly in my hand as medicine, and my normally quite sensible sensibilities can go ahead and deal with it.
An "amazing opportunity," my youngest sister Chelsea had called it after hearing about the job offer at our late father's company.
Yeah, well, the real 'amazing opportunity' - the one that I wanted - was the team leader position in the research group I was in back at the hospital; the one I was pretty much "guaranteed" by the Administrative Director.
Of course when that Director is kind of maybe your sort-of boyfriend, and you walk in on him getting blown by some slutty young med student, it's amazing how quickly your guaranteed position turns into her actual position.
And no, that's not a euphemism; he actually gave her the job he'd promised me.
Ok fine, the job at Archer Holdings is a great job, but that doesn't mean that coming to work for my father's company doesn't feel like moving back in with your parents after failing out in the real world. I mean, it's not like being a Doctor by twenty-seven is exactly slacking, but I can't help but feel like a washout coming back to work for "Dad's" company.
I'm taking another swig of champagne as I shove open the door to the greenhouse, and I guess that's the reason I don't realize I'm not alone until he speaks.
"Looks like I'm not the only one that couldn't wait until after the ceremony for the champagne toast."
I actually spit champagne out as I whirl at the uncomfortably familiar man's voice behind me, and when my eye land on him, my jaw about hits the floor under my feet.
No fucking way.
This isn't happening; this seriously can't be happening. It can't be him; there's just no possible way this is real.
But his dark greenish brown eyes lock onto mine as the recognition dawns there, and just the faintest shadow of a grin teases at the corners of his mouth; “You?”
I know the criminally good looking man in the tux standing right in front of me, even though I'm not supposed to. I shouldn't know about the body built for sin underneath that tux; shouldn't know about the tattoos covering his chest and the coiled muscles of his biceps, or those abs carved out of marble. I shouldn't know how the muscles on the side of his hips groove down like pure sex, and I certainly shouldn't be able to exactly picture the thick- well, what I know he's got between his legs.
He's shaved his beard off, and the bruises around his face from the last time - from seeing him slumped in the elevator that night barely a week ago - seemed to be healing. I briefly wonder about the shallow stab wound in his side and how the bruised rib is doing.
And how is it that I know these things I shouldn't? Because one week ago, I saw those bruises; I sewed up that wound.
My one one night stand, the one man I never expected to see again even if I haven't been able to get him out of my head for the last eight days, is standing in a tuxedo, right in front of me, at my sister's wedding.
What the hell is going on here?
My brain is still trying to get my mouth to work and say something to the grinning, criminally good looking man standing in front of me, when the door to greenhouse bangs open.
"There you ar- Oh, hey!"
Hudson, my very soon-to-be-brother-in-law, smiles at me, “Good, looks like you two found each other."
Huh?
"I mean, wow, how long's it been since you guys even last saw each other?"
Warning bells start to sound inside my head, slowly at first and then building louder and louder, until there's an audible ringing in my ears. Hudson opens his mouth again, and the words that tumble out have my heart jumping up into my throat as the floor practically drops out beneath my feet; "Quinn, you know Logan, right?"
Oh God; oh holy fucking shit-balls. No-no-no-no-no...
The words are screaming through my head as I whirl around almost in slow motion to lock eyes on him. I can see the same horrible shock mirrored across his face as his eyes go wide as the recognition dawns on him too.
"You know Logan, right?"
God, do I know 'know' him?
I know how his lips taste. I know how his tongue feels buried between my legs. And I know how his cock feels as he grabs my hips and slides deep inside of me. Yeah, I think it's safe to say I know Logan Dempsey.
Except, I sure didn't know who he was then; not that night.
Of all the men in all the world, it had to be him. The one night stand that never should have happened; and in half an hour my sister is going to marry his brother, which basically means we're family.
I'm barely breathing as his eyes lock in on mine. And it's almost still in slow motion when he grins and sticks a hand out; "Great to see you again, Doc."
Oh, fuck.
Oh fuck me fucking sideways.
You know that dream you have where you go to school with no pants on or some shit? Yeah, well that's what this feels like. Except this isn't a dream and the reality is staring me in the face with wide, accusatory bright blue eyes. The girl from that night barely a week ago; the girl who patched me up and probably saved my ass.
The girl who stayed in my bed afterwords and fell asleep on my chest.
Oh, and the girl who later slid down my cock and rode me like a woman possessed until we were both screaming for air. Fuck, she looked strangely familiar before, but she looks like original sin staring me in the face now.
Quinn Archer; William Archer's daughter. I slept with the daughter of the man who brought me up in the world from nothing, gave me the gilded life out a fucking book, and taught me to be a man.
And I fucked his daughter. Oh, and her sister is basically my future sister-in-law; future as in thirty minutes from now. I'm suddenly horrified at the shit I gave Hudson when I first heard about him and Reagan, William's second daughter. I mean what are the fucking odds?! They're actually too much to even comprehend, and I know odds. I mean of all the girls in all the world, THIS has to be the random chick who found me that night? I can still remember her hands - so firm and so unflinching as she sewed and patched me up. And then her lips; yeah, I can definitely remember those lips. They're the same pouty lips parted in shock and probably the same jolt of fear I'm feeling right now as she stares at me, but damn do I remember how they felt crushed against my own as she moaned into my mouth.
Fuck. This is literally the last girl on the whole fucking planet I should have anything to do with besides a friendly nod or a boring conversation about work at the odd Christmas party.
Protect them. William's words reverberate through my head, filling the deafening silence between my ears. The Old Man's dying words were to make sure his daughters were safe and protected. I'm fairly confident that grabbing Quinn's hips and pulling her back against me as I bury my cock inside of her doesn't count much in that department.
