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Stepbrother Romance
Prick
Tool
Inferno Motorcycle Club Series
Taming Blaze
Saving Axe
Breaking Hammer
West Bend Saints Series
Elias
Silas
Excerpt from Luke, Book Three in the West Bend Saints Series
Coming July 2015
Add it to your TBR list on Goodreads HERE
Luke Saint
I'm good at three things: f**king, jumping out of planes, and chasing forest fires.
I'm not looking to settle down. Women with baggage? Pass.
Autumn Mayburn definitely has baggage.
She's the opposite of my type -- uptight, too smart for her own good, and, shi**, she has a kid.
I don't even like kids.
She's the last thing I need.
She's everything I want.
Autumn Mayburn
I don't believe in fairy tales. Not since I caught my Prince Charming screwing his secretary while I was pregnant.
I moved to West Bend with my baby to start a new life. I'm a single mom. I'm not exactly looking for romance.
And definitely not romance in the form of a cocky, womanizing, bad boy like Luke Saint.
I hate him from the moment I meet him.
He's nothing that I want. He just might be everything I need.
CHAPTER ONE
Autumn Mayburn
Today should have been the happiest day of my life. Today was the day that Edward and I had been trying for the past four years.
The test was positive.
I took it three times this morning, just to make sure. And then I drove straight to my family doctor's office and got the blood test. Still positive.
I did a happy dance in the office room. My doctor is my family doctor -- he's known me for all of my twenty-seven years, and I think he was as tickled as I was. He knows how hard this journey has been for us.
And then, this. Two hours later, I got the call from my doctor again. "Now, Doc Statham, don't tell me that I have to come back for an appointment already," I said, my voice teasing. Nothing could knock me off the cloud I was floating on.
Nothing, that is, except the words that came out of his mouth after that. "Your father," he said. "I'm sorry, Autumn."
I shook my head, trying to get my brain to process what he was saying. His voice sounded like it was far away, like he was speaking to me through some kind of tunnel. "No," I said. "It's not possible."
"It was sudden, Autumn," he said. "Heart attack on the golf course."
"Where -- is everyone at the hospital?" I asked. "But -- they'll fix him. He's in surgery, right?"
"I'm sorry." It's all he kept saying, the phrase I continued to hear later, echoing in my head, rattling around in my skull. I'm sorry, over and over and over.
I hadn't gone straight to the hospital. I drove to Edward's office in a daze. I called his cell phone, but he didn't answer. On the passenger seat in the front of the car was a little gift-wrapped box, pink and blue paper, my "surprise, we're going to have a baby!" box. It seemed tainted somehow. I contemplated not bringing it with me, but decided I couldn't keep it a secret, even if I were intermingling the news with the news of my father's death.
When the elevator reached the thirteenth floor, I stood there, staring at the number like it was some kind of omen. The floor was empty, lights under the doors of a couple of the offices down the hall visible. Edward's secretary had gone home, and I wondered if he were at the golf course. Maybe he'd been with my father, I thought. Except that wasn't true. My sister said he was missing at the hospital. Not like that's any big surprise, she'd said bitterly.
My family had never liked Edward. But that was all going to change after this news. More than anything, my father wanted a grandchild.
Past tense, I realized. He would never see his grandchild. The thought brought a fresh wave of tears to my eyes, and I didn't care that they were streaming down my face when I reached the door.
I didn't bother to knock before turning the handle.
I should have.
I stood there, holding the pink and blue box with the ribbon on the top, the one that contained all of our hopes and dreams, the words on the tip of my tongue: I have news. Good news and bad news. I'll take the good news first, Edward would always say. Because I'm an optimist. I anticipated it, my mouth forming the words before my brain had even processed the scene before me: I'm pregnant.
But I didn't speak those words. I stood there, staring at them. Edward's pants were around his knees, his pale ass thrusting into the woman on the desk. His secretary. Brittany. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her clear -- yes, clear, like stripper shoes -- shoes, heels digging into the small of his back.
"Oh shit," she said. I wasn't sure at first if the words were meant for me or him. Her arm flailing, she slapped Edward's forearm repeatedly.
"Oh yeah, your fucking pussy is so tight," he groaned.
"Your wife," she squealed.
His head finally turned. "Oh shit."
I stood there, holding the box and watching my husband fuck his bimbo secretary. I opened my mouth to speak, and the words finally came out. "I'm pregnant," I said. "And my father is dead."
***
Catch up on the other books in the West Bend Saints series before Book Three is released!
Elias, Book One in the West Bend Saints Series
Available on Amazon
River Andrews
Call me Cinderella. I’m a rags to riches story - girl from trailer park becomes Hollywood starlet. And I’m about to get my happy ever after.
That is, until I walk in to my house, three hours before my wedding, to find my rock star fiancé sticking his c**k down my sister's throat.
With cameras behind me, filming.
I’m running from the whole humiliating thing. I’m not prepared to run straight into him- Elias Saint.
He’s completely wrong for me- damaged, dirty, and demanding.
But once he touches me, I can’t walk away.
Elias Saint
Some people carry their wounds on the inside. Every f**cking step I take, I’m reminded of mine.
I lost my leg in Afghanistan. Since then, I’ve just been lost.
Now I’m going back to West Bend, Colorado, the place my brothers and I ran like hell to get away from.
And she’s hitched a ride- River Andrews.
A f**cking movie star.
This isn’t a fairytale. Happy endings don’t exist. And I’m no f**ing Prince Charming.
But, for her, there’s a chance I might be.
***
Silas, Book Two in the West Bend Saints Series
Available on Amazon
Tempest
Call me Robin Hood.
I'm a grifter. A con artist.
I don't just steal from the rich. I take from the worst of the worst, the people who deserve to be hustled.
I have two rules - keep moving and never fall in love.
I only ever thought about breaking them for one boy. And that boy just walked right back into my life, a ghost from the past. Silas Saint.
Now he's a man. Arrogant and sexy as f**k, he's sure as hell not the person I fell in love with, a lifetime ago.
But when he touches me, it's enough to make me forget my own
name. He makes me want to break all my rules.
Silas
I've been fighting as long as I could remember. Sh**, I think I came out of the womb swinging. I even tried to go legit until trouble sent me out of Las Vegas and back to West Bend.
I never expected a different kind of trouble to come waltzing back into my life, all curves and tattoos and sass. Tempest Wilde.
Any idea what "tempest" means? A violent f**cking windstorm. That's s**t I don't need.
I loved her once, a lifetime ago. Before I knew better.
Love is for suckers, and I'm sure as hell not a sucker.
But the way she looks at me? It makes me want to give her everything I have.
Excerpt from Prick: A Stepbrother Romance
Available on Amazon
I can't stop thinking about that prick.
Caulter Sterling is a prick.
A filthy-mouthed, womanizing, crude, spoiled, arrogant prick.
The tattooed, pierced, panty-melting-hot son of a celebrity.
I hate him.
He's slept his way through practically every girl at Brighton Academy.
Except for me.
I'm the good girl. The responsible girl. The 4.0, class president, studied-so-much-she-never-lost-the-big-V girl.
And in celebration of graduation and adulthood, I just made the worst decision in the history of ever.
I lost my V-card to the devil himself.
It was just one night. So what if it was mind-blowing? Hit it and quit it.
Except I just found out that my father - the Senator, the Presidential hopeful - is marrying Caulter's mother. Oh, and this summer? We're hitting the campaign trail.
One big happy family.
I'm totally f**ked.
That fucking prick.
A smirk spreads across his lips, the movement excruciatingly slow, almost as if he's not the least bit surprised to see me. He looks so satisfied with himself that it’s all I can do not to walk up to him and slap that stupid smug smile right off his face.
Instead, I stand there, my heart pounding so loudly in my chest I swear everyone in the room must be able to hear it. I'm frozen, paralyzed, staring at him like I'm some kind of idiot.
Caulter Sterling.
The devil incarnate.
A devil with the bluest damn eyes I've ever seen, right here in my father's house.
When Caulter directs those blue eyes toward me, I just know he can see right through me. I'm naked under his gaze, helpless to prevent the heat from rising to my cheeks as his eyes linger on me.
The only thing I can think about is the last time I saw him - the heat of his breath on my neck that made me practically writhe with the anticipation of him being inside me, the way he bit the edge of my lip when he kissed me that caused me to cry out, unsure if I was feeling pleasure or pain. When the tip of his cock pressed against my entrance, I winced and he gave me an odd look. “Shit, Princess, tell me you’ve done this before.”
I'd forced a laugh, tried to sound more casual than I felt. That was all it was -- casual. Hit it and quit it was Caulter's mantra. Unlike Caulter, I had exactly zero experience with that. I had been Little Miss Perfect my whole life -- 4.0 GPA, class president, valedictorian, the whole nine yards. The daughter of Senator Harrison. The Senator Harrison. There were certain expectations of me. Let's just say that no one -- at least no one normal -- was clamoring to date the daughter of the retired Marine Corps General. The same man who was expected to make a bid for President in the next few years.
And no one was trying to get in my pants. Except for Caulter Sterling, the bad boy who didn't give a damn about rules or expectations.
The week before graduation, I had made my decision. Enough was enough. I was eighteen, an adult. I was headed to Harvard in precisely ninety days, and I sure as hell wasn't arriving there with my virginity intact. I texted the one boy I knew would do the deed -- even if he was the only boy I truly couldn't stand.
Caulter moved slightly, the head of his cock pressed insistently against me. "Tell me, Princess," he whispered, his voice nearly a growl. "This isn't your first time, is it?"
"Of course it's not, jackass," I lied, my jaw set, forcing an assuredness I definitely didn't feel. "Are you going to screw me, or not?"
My father's voice cuts through the memory with military-like precision. "Katherine," he says. "You know Caulter Sterling."
Do I know Caulter Sterling? My cheeks feel like they are on fire. Surely everyone in here can see what is written all over my face. Do I know him? Only in the most Biblical of senses.
I know how he tastes.
I know how his cock feels as it slides into me.
I know how it feels when I come on him, digging my fingernails into his shoulders as I cling to his body like I'm afraid I'll be swept away.
The boy I'd lost my virginity to -- the same one to whom I'd mumbled an awkward "thanks" as I'd slipped out the door of the hotel the next day in what was inarguably the most awkward morning-after exchange in the history of mornings-after -- the boy I hadn’t spoken to since he did the deed two weeks ago -- is now standing in my fucking living room.
With my father.
In terms of embarrassing moments, this has to rank as one of the worst. A million thoughts are swirling around in my head. Does my father know? I wonder. No, he can't possibly. I try to reassure myself. My father would have already throttled him with his bare hands if he knew the debauched things Caulter had done to me that night. The thought of those things sends a rush of heat between my legs that I try to ignore.
"Yes." I choke out the word, my voice little more than a croak. "I know Caulter Sterling. Hello, Caulter."
"Hello, Harvard," Caulter says, his voice drawing out the word, lingering on it. His lips turn up on the edges. The image of him above me, those sweet lips millimeters from mine, flashes in my head as clear as day.
Standing there next to my oh-so-conservative father, Caulter pulls his lips into a smirk again. And winks. If there is such a thing as death by humiliation, I swear I am two seconds away from experiencing it.
"Of course you two know each other from Brighton," my father says, apparently oblivious to what has to be the now-scarlet color of my face.
I swallow hard and nod, willing the heat in my cheeks to subside. "Yes. Brighton."
"And you know Caulter's mother, Ella Sterling," he says.
I've been so focused on Caulter that I haven't even registered the other person in the room. Ella Sterling. Caulter's mother. She’s a huge movie star, a Hollywood icon. If I had met her in any other setting, I'd be star-struck right now.
Why are she and Caulter in my living room? I silently pray this is all about some kind of political fundraiser, even though that might require that I play nice with Caulter. You know you'd like to do more than just play nice with him. The thought jumps right into my head, unwanted, and I banish it.
"Hello, Katherine." Ella steps forward and extends her hand. She’s looking at me with the kind of affectionate expression you reserve for children and puppies, her eyes soft. "I've heard so much about you."
Before I can think about why she's looking at me the way she is, my father speaks, his tone staccato, clipped. Business as usual. "Ella and I have an announcement to make, and we want the two of you to hear it from us first."
Ella.
He’s using her first name. They’re on a first name basis.
Caulter's eyes are on me, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. Instead, I stand there paralyzed, afraid to draw in a breath, watching as Caulter's mother reaches for my father's hand and covers it with hers, then looks up at him, positively beaming.
Oh my God.
It’s like watching two trains moving in slow motion toward certain collision. I know what my father is going to say before he even says it, but I just can't bring myself to believe it.
"We've managed to keep this out of the press, but we're planning to make an announcement soon. And the two of you have been s
hielded from it at boarding school. That wasn't intentional on our part. We meant to tell each of you over the holidays, but it just didn't seem like the right moment." He clears his throat. "And you should know first."
No, no, no.
"This may come as a shock."
That’s the fucking understatement of the century.
"Ella and I have been seeing each other for some time. And we're getting married. It will be tasteful, respectful of your late mother, of course. But it will have to happen this summer, before the major campaign push."
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. I’m screaming the words inside my head.
I’ve just lost my virginity to my new stepbrother.
I'm completely fucked.
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Sabrina Paige writes about smart, sexy women and the hot alpha males who love them. Outlaw bikers, cowboys, and military men make her swoon. She has found her own happily ever after with her active duty military husband and adorable toddler.
Cannon (A Step Brother Romance #3) Page 18
