“Tell me what you want. Or just take it.”
The words left her before she could stop them and her heart clenched, fear rushing up cold from her toes to her head then receding under a wave of heat as he shuddered. Without another word he stepped back and opened the door, waving her inside.
“If you mean that, come in.”
Melanie dug her fingers into the wall behind her, trying to steady herself, and find the strength to walk away. It was there, in the way he held himself still, the feral, almost ferocious expression, tightly clenched fists. If she stepped inside, Marcus would attempt to strip her bare, and she wasn’t sure he wouldn’t succeed.
Let him try. It will only get as complicated as you let it.
Frightened, exhilarated, aroused, Melanie pushed away from the wall and walked through the door.
Winning the lottery changes her life forever…in more ways than one.
Fortune’s Deception
? 2008 Karen Erickson
One minute Brittney Jones is living paycheck to paycheck, and the next she and three friends win a record-breaking lottery jackpot. Sure, she’s spent some money on herself—after her rough childhood, she figures she deserves a few indulgences, big and small.
To financial advisor Charlie Manning, his client Brittney is a shallow beauty out to spend all of her money. He thinks she should rein it in. She thinks he should loosen up, and resolves to help him do just that—in a very naughty way.
The passion between them burns hot and fast, and Charlie comes to realize Brittney’s heart is as big as her newly fattened bank account. She’s not only smart, but beautiful and sexy. And he can’t resist her.
Still, Charlie is aware that Brittney’s keeping secrets from him. If only she would trust him enough to tell the truth!
Book 1 of the Fortune series.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Fortune’s Deception:
Brittney was going to turn him away. She had to.
With a sigh, she threw her brush into the sink and pulled her hair into a high ponytail. No reason getting glammed up if she was going to spend the night alone. She’d realized the minute she walked out of his office she had to do this, sever all sexual ties with her financial planner. She should’ve never done it with him in the first place, and she’d made more than her share of mistakes in her life.
Then he called her at six, his voice so sexy, a little gruff as he spoke. When he asked if he could come over, she didn’t even hesitate with her answer. Just hearing him talk made her sex weep with moisture, caused her nipples to stiffen into tight little aching buds.
She’d hung up the phone and known immediately she’d made a mistake. No way could he come over to her house and essentially fuck her brains out. She didn’t want to lead him on, didn’t want him to think she could offer him something more. Relationships were not a part of her life, they never had been. She didn’t do consecutive dating, didn’t do any of that stuff. She had no idea how to do any of it.
Of course, what she and Charlie had certainly couldn’t be called dating. That description was downright laughable. No, one illicit encounter in his office did not constitute dating, but she had a feeling he was a serious kind of guy.
She didn’t care to stick around long enough to have someone hurt her, because that’s what always happened. Nothing could last forever. She’d suffered enough through her entire childhood, taking blow after emotional blow when she’d been young and had no defenses. All of it had been so painful, so heartbreaking. Never, ever again would she put herself through something like that willingly.
Could she recall one serious boyfriend throughout her entire string of so-called relationships? Not really. She was the good-time girl, the one guys liked to hang out with, the one they liked to bang, especially because she was no-strings. No fuss, no muss, just fun.
Mister Number Cruncher Charles Manning probably didn’t even know the meaning of no fuss, no muss. He was probably intent on finding a woman ready to settle down with, looking for a relationship. He reeked of commitment. His cologne was probably named Commitment.
That was so not her style.
The doorbell rang and she ran her hands down the front of her cotton tank dress, her palms suddenly sweaty. She hated having to turn him away, didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes, on his face, but it had to be done. One minor encounter with the man and already she was in over her head. She couldn’t imagine how an actual sweaty mattress session with him would make her feel.