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“You’re late.” He says shortly, disapproval clear. “Sit. Speak. I don’t have much time.”
I stare at him—at the way the other people in the room are all turned to him, like he’s the freaking sun—and I finally put two-and-two together and come up withholy hell!
This is Caleb Sterling. And I need to make him hire me in the next ten minutes—or my whole life will fall apart.
To be continued…
What happens next? Juliet and Caleb’s sizzling story is just getting started. Discover the FLAWLESS trilogy, now live and available to read for FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
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THE RUTHLESS TRILOGY
BOOK ONE: RUTHLESS HEART
NERO
Forget about flowers and candy.Romance is for men who don’t know how to fuck.
You know what I’m talking about: Face down on the mattress, ass up, just begging for a smack. A heavy weight pinning you down, a rough hand knotted in your hair. That thick, straining cock pounding into you, relentless. Almost too much, too big, to take.
But you take it, don’t you? Like you were made for every inch. Writhing. Clawing the sheets. Screaming the whole fucking neighborhood down, because you’ve never had it this good before.
You’ve never had a man likeme.
Because I know what you’ve been dreaming about. A man who takes what he wants. No apologies, no remorse. A man who lives in the shadows, who’ll give it to you dirty, like the animal you really are.
Beneath the pretty manners, and charming smiles, you want to be ravaged. Rode hard.Possessed.
Like her.
She was my first love, and my wildest obsession. Her innocence drove me to the brink of madness, and even now, I still hear her in the night: Moaning my name as her body surrendered and her sweet pussy seized around my cock.
The taste of her was intoxicating. Her betrayal lives on like a poison in my veins.
For ten long years I’ve searched for her, waiting for the day when I can have my revenge. Break her the same way she left me broken. Drive her to insanity with desire, the way she did to me.
An eye for an eye. A heart for a heart.
She will be mine.
***
CHAPTER ONE: LILY
It’stwo a.m. on a Wednesday morning when a man walks through the door and ruins my life.
You might think there isn’t much in my life left to ruin, since I’m serving drunk assholes watered down whiskey in a strip club on the outskirts of Las Vegas, and maybe you’re right. I’m not curing cancer, or fighting for world peace, and the only masterpiece I’m painting is the lipsticked smile on my face, inviting guys to shove grubby singles in the waistband of my leather miniskirt. The nuns at my old fancy Catholic school would probably faint if they could see me now—and then pray for my poor soul.
No, this life isn’t anything like the one I dreamed about, but it’s just that: a life. And it’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative, which is laying six feet under in an unmarked grave somewhere like I never even existed at all.
The Barretti Family doesn’t give you the honor of a headstone, not when you’ve crossed them like I have.
Which is why I take one look at the guy who just sauntered in, and my blood runs cold.
You knew this day would come.
I look again, praying that I’ve got it wrong, that I’m just seeing things in the dim light, but I would know that man blindfolded at a hundred paces.
