by Tonya Brooks
Desire Too Hot To Handle
By Tonya Brooks
Copyright 2015 Tonya Brooks
Amazon Edition
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please do so. In return, I would appreciate it if you would leave me a review on one of the links at the end of the book. Thank you for reading.
AUTHORS NOTE
The Bad Baker Boys is a series of books written about four brothers, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Each book is a standalone and can be read separately, but to get the full story I strongly suggest you read them in order. The Welcome To Lakeside series of novellas features their friends and families and also serves as prequels to the brothers stories.
ACKNOWLEGEMENTS
To my wonderful husband, Billy. Thank you for your encouragement, your unwavering patience, and most of all, for loving me. You are my inspiration. Always!
A huge thank you to the Bad Baker Boys Babes (and fabulous beta readers), Ginny Slamka Prince, Jackie Alexander, Linette Davidson, and Pam Aten for all your encouragement and support, and for believing in me when I had (serious) doubts about this one. And thank you so much for not letting me kill John when I wanted to!
To Lori Perrone-Frazier for all the amazing photos that kept me inspired (and overheated!). Oh, mama. Where do you find those pictures?
To Rihaneh Odde-Rivera, for making sure the psychobabble wasn't really babble, and for talking me through the mini meltdown when the plot went to hell.
To Gena Johnson, for answering a million and one (really stupid) questions about music and for sharing your incredible knowledge with us all.
To Abbie Zanders, an incredibly talented author and my new friend (and twin!) for all the suggestions and great advice.
To Elaine Levine, author extraordinaire, for caring enough to convince me to let John tell his story the way he wanted to. Your encouragement made this happen and you are the freakin' best!
To Meg Graham Weglarz, for editing this hot mess and especially for having the guts to bust my balls until I got it right! And you were right all along. Alex is a shit. lol
You guys are the absolute best and this book would have never been published without you!
The inspiration for this book came from Nickelback's Next Contestant.
PLAYLIST
Sweet Child O' Mine - Guns N' Roses
Tonight (I'm Lovin' You) - Enrique Iglasias
Shake That - Eminim, Nate Dogg
She's Fine - Jerrod Nieman, Colt Ford
50 Shades Of Crazy - Chase Rice
Bad Girlfriend - Theory Of A Deadman
Like A Wreckin' Ball - Eric Church
Ride - Chase Rice (Not available on Spotify)
I Don't Want To Miss A Thing - Aerosmith
Pony - Ginuwine
Bad Company - Five Finger Death Punch
Wanted Dead Or Alive - Bon Jovi
The Outsiders - Eric Church
Don't Cha - The Pussycat Dolls
Next Contestant - Nickelback
Blue On Black - Kenny Wayne Shepherd
Layla - Derek & The Dominos
Free Bird - Lynyrd Skynyrd
Knockin' On Heaven's Door - Guns N' Roses
Hotel California - Eagles
My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark - Fallout Boy
Burn It To The Ground - Nickelback
Closer - Nine Inch Nails
Rockstar - Nickelback
Turn The Page - Metallica
People Back Home - Florida Georgia Line
She Don't Love You - Eric Paslay
That's Damn Rock & Roll - Eric Church
Fall Into Me - Brantley Gilbert
Hanging By A Moment - Lifehouse
All Of Me - John Legend
I'll Stand By You - The Pretenders
The playlist for this book can be found under tonyabrooksauthor at:
https://www.spotify.com/us/
and in the United Kingdom at:https://www.spotify.com/uk/
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
Excerpt
About The Author
Chapter One
Thursday, May 22
Ho. Lee. Shit!
John Baker felt like he’d been struck by lightning. The hottest woman he’d ever laid eyes on had just walked into his club and flat out scorched his balls. She was hotter than the fires of hell and his raging arousal proclaimed that he was more than ready to be burned alive.
Come on baby light my fire.
He had been adjusting the angle of a security camera when she walked in and damn near fell off the ladder when he saw her. She strutted her hot little ass right past him, looking around the darkened club and never even saw him. He didn’t know who she was or why she was there, but one thing was for damn sure. There was no way in hell he was letting her leave.
Coal black hair flowed long and silky down her back and he ached to sink both hands in it while he drove himself deep inside her. He couldn’t wait to peel her out of the skin tight jeans that clung lovingly to long, slender legs and the tank top that barely covered the most perfect set of breasts he'd seen in a long time. Those fuck me shoes could stay on because goddamn they were sexy as hell.
John flashed the lethal bad boy smile that never failed to make panties drop, and asked, “Can I help you, darlin’?” There were several things he planned to help her with. The first one was to find out how many orgasms they could share before he died of pleasure.
~~~~~
Holy effin shit!
That voice. Oh, the things that dark, smoky voice did to her girly parts while images of black satin sheets and hot, sweaty sex danced through her head. Cynthia Benton turned around slowly in expectation as chills raced up and down her spine. Her eyes traveled up the ladder to meet a smile that melted her ovaries and caused her womb to clench.
Her first thought was that her aunt was crazy as hell. Tall, dark and handsome didn’t even begin to describe him. He was too gorgeous to be real. There was no doubt why women flocked to the club to hear him sing. He sounded as sinfully delicious as he looked, and dammed if she didn't want to find out if he tasted just as good.
Her eyes raked him over from head to toe. Twice. This was not what she had expected the owner of a small town nightclub to look like. This was the kind of man you saw on movie screens or magazines. This was a fuckin' god.
She could not tear her hungry gaze away from him as he dropped lithely to the floor and moved toward her, every inch a predator stalking its prey. Her blood ran hot and her heart hammered in anticipation with every step he took. Sweet baby Jesus with a cherry on top. Black as night hair was a sexy mess around the face of a fallen angel, and the neatly trimmed goatee framed a mouth that she wanted to devour.
A black t-shirt was stretched to the limit over broad shoulders and a chest that her fingers tingled to touch. Lean hips and long legs were encased in faded, torn jeans that f
it in all the right places and damn, he even made tennis shoes look sexy. Oh, mama. He was bangalicious and she was head over high heels in lust. Seriously. He was that hot and she had the wet thong to prove it.
“I’m here to meet John,” she said breathlessly and extended her hand as a diamond stud sparkled at her from his earlobe. Sweet lovin' Lord. Could this man be any hotter? Hell to the no. He was blazing hot and she could barely keep her hands off of him.
John was used to strange women dropping by unexpectedly to meet him. Some of them wanted an autograph, some wanted to meet a local celebrity, but most of them just wanted to hook up with a musician. The raw hunger in eyes so blue that a man could drown in them assured him that she wasn’t after an autograph.
“I’m John,” he admitted with more pleasure than was decent and his smile became positively feral as he took her hand in his. A surge of electricity shot through him at the feel of her flesh against his and he saw the same flash of awareness in her eyes that he felt. “Who might you be?”
She stared into crystal blue eyes smoldering with desire so intense, so completely focused on her that she damn near forgot her own name. “I'm Cyn,” she replied with a bemused smile and didn't try to pull her hand away when he didn't offer to release it. The last thing she wanted to do was break contact with him.
The smile became even more wicked as his ravenous gaze roved over her again. Damn straight, she was walking sin alright, and he was the lucky bastard who was going to revel in her transgressions. “Yeah, you are,” he agreed in genuine appreciation and gently tugged her hand to pull her body smoothly against his. “Sin is my specialty, darlin’. I'm gonna indulge all your guilty pleasures.”
She combusted internally at the sensual promise and now her thong was drenched. Cyn stared up at him through a haze of desire so strong she could barely breathe. She inhaled deeply and damn near came on the spot. Oh God, oh God, oh God. He smelled like Abercrombie. That cologne was pure catnip for her. Just walking by the store could send her into orgasmic bliss.
His arms encircled her waist and pulled her body flush against the rock hard length of his. Oh, Jesus. Those jeans really did fit in all the right places and she could feel every delicious inch through the layers of clothing that separated them. Without her being conscious of it, she wound up with her hands on his broad shoulders, and have mercy, they felt as solid as they looked.
John had pulled her into his arms instinctively and goddamn she fit him perfectly from head to toe. Everything that was male within him sat up and took notice. He wasn’t letting go any time soon, for damn sure. He wanted that gorgeous body moving against his. Naked. In his bed. Right now. He started dancing her toward the door of his office to accomplish that. He had a brand new Murphy bed that they needed to christen. Hell, he might not let her out of it for hours.
Cyn wasn’t sure how they’d wound up dancing and she hadn’t even been aware of the music until that moment. Something soft and sensual was playing through the sound system and it added to the surreal sensations bombarding her mind. Being pressed against his rock hard body addled her senses, but it also released her from the spell his mesmerizing gaze held over her. In the brief moment of sanity, she shook her head to clear it and admitted, “This is the craziest interview I’ve ever had.”
“Interview?” John asked absently as he wove them skillfully around the furnishings, more interested in getting her into his bed than what she was saying. His lips brushed lightly over her hair and the most delicious scent filled his head. Mmm. Chocolate. He'd bet she tasted just as good.
“Aunt Harley said you needed a waitress,” she replied as her fingertips delved into the silky hair that grazed the back of his T-shirt.
Aunt Harley? Ah, hell no. Say it ain’t so.
“You're Cindy?” He asked in shocked disbelief and released her as if she really had burned him. The sinfully delicious sex kitten from his wettest, wildest fantasies was the little Cindy that his sister-in-law wanted him to hire? Shit, damn, sonuvabitch! Harley would rip his balls out if she knew what he’d been planning to do to her niece. John took a step back, raked a hand through his hair and barely resisted the urge to cuss like a sailor.
“I prefer Cyn,” she said inanely and wondered what the hell had happened to the sensual man who had been doing a damn fine job of seducing her. He’d been all over her until she’d mentioned the job. Oh, shit. Maybe he didn’t believe in mixing business with pleasure. Truth be told, neither did she, but for him... hell, yeah, she’d make an exception.
There was no doubt about it. Jesus hated him. This had to be some kind of god awful punishment for his sins. John was hard enough to hammer nails, less than twelve feet from a bed, with the hottest woman on the planet and he couldn’t touch her. He couldn’t fuckin’ touch her. This was some seriously messed up shit.
He walked behind the bar to put some distance between them and grabbed a beer. What he really needed was a solid three hour sex marathon, or a bottle of Jack and a cold shower, but this would have to do for now, dammit. “So, you're here about the job,” he said in resignation and then thought to offer, “Want a beer?”
Well, damn. Playtime was obviously over and John was all business now. “Sure,” she agreed and sank limply onto a bar stool. Her insides were quivering like jello and her hands still tingled from the feel of those muscular shoulders beneath them.
“Glass or bottle?”
“Bottle,” she requested and accepted the cold beer. Cyn took a swallow and sat it on the bar. She needed to pour it in her lap, but doubted even that would cool the heat pulsating at her core. Then he folded his arms over his chest and those gorgeous biceps flexed, revealing a tantalizing hint of a tattoo wrapped around his right arm. Holy effin shit! He just got hotter and her thong was about to completely disintegrate.
John hadn’t paid Harley too much attention when she’d told him about her niece. Now he wished like hell that he’d asked for more info before he agreed to hire her. Important shit like if she blew the top off of the hotness meter. How the hell was he supposed to look at this woman every night and keep his hands off of her? And how the hell was he gonna let her walk out of here right now when those blue eyes were still eating him alive and he was as hard as a tire iron?
Forcing his mind back to the subject at hand, he commented, “Harley said you've waited tables in a club before.”
"Have you heard of the Apogee Club?" She queried. There wasn't a man on the planet who hadn't heard of the exclusive gentlemen's club where only members and their guests were allowed entrance.
"Uh huh," John admitted and he'd not only heard of it, he had actually visited the one in Los Angeles. He'd been the guest of a member, and it had been cool as hell. The place had been a little too high-class for his taste, although the strippers had been amazingly talented.
“I was a cocktail waitress in their Boca Raton club,” she admitted and saw his look of surprise. “Aunt Harley would freak if she knew, so I told her it was a nightclub.”
John knew that waitressing in a strip club was a tough job and the girls put up with a lot of shit from the customers. He seriously doubted the same thing happened at a high class place like Apogee. They'd had a shit ton of rules he'd had to read before they even let him in. The no touching policy had really sucked. “How long were you there?” He asked curiously.
“I worked there while I was in college and grad school, so it was about seven years” Cyn explained. “I never would have lasted that long if the owner hadn't been adamant about the no touching policy." Although that hadn't stopped the members from propositioning her on a regular basis.
John didn’t doubt that for a minute. No red blooded man could keep his hands off of her for long without a damn good reason. If he wasn't positive that Harley would go after his balls, he damn sure couldn’t. “You won't have to worry about that here,” he assured her. “I don't put up with that kind of shit either.”
“Does that mean I have the job?” She asked hopefully.
“Uh huh,” he confirmed. Besides, if he didn't hire her, Harley would kick his ass. He explained the hours, wages and benefits before saying, “You don't have to split your tips. You earn it, you keep it.” Her smile assured him that she liked that. “Any questions?”
“Just two,” Cyn admitted as she finished off her beer. “What's the dress code?”
“Harley designed some T-shirts with the club's logo for the staff and she kept a set for you. Wear anything you like with them,” he offered since he knew anything she wore would look amazing. Bare ass naked would look even better. Better forget that shit with her still in reach, John reminded himself and prompted, “Second question?”
Cyn leaned over the bar toward him, bracing her forearms atop the acrylic surface. The movement pressed her breasts together and lifted them up above the low neckline of her top. She saw his eyes flare with heat and asked, “Can we keep my work history between us, John? There are some things my aunts just don't need to know.”
“Uh huh,” John agreed absently and swallowed hard. He wanted to lift her over the bar, peel that shirt off and... fuck! Well, hell. That was exactly what he wanted to do. Shit like that would get him neutered faster than a hound in the pound. But, holy shit, the woman was almost impossible to resist.
“Thanks, John,” she smiled that flirtatious smile again and leaned farther over to press her lips against his cheek. “I'll see you tonight.”
“Tonight?” He gulped hoarsely.
“Didn’t Aunt Harley mention it?” She asked with a look that would have melted his boxers if he’d been wearing any. “I’m staying at your place.”
Ho. Lee. Shit.
Yep. It was a fact alright. Jesus hated him. Sin in stilettos was sleeping under the same roof and he couldn’t take advantage of the situation. John barely held back a groan of pure agony. He stood there with his jeans unbearably tight and watched the seductive sway of her ass as she walked away.
