“And now a baby?” I asked incredulously. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This couldn’t be Mason Keller talking.
Mason shook his head. “Not just any baby. The most talented baby ever to be born. Razor version 2.0.”
“You’re insane!” I smacked him and laughed. Then I crossed my arms and scowled. “And who says I want you to give me said baby, huh? Especially at a time like this.”
“Come on Carly,” Mason urged, leaning forward to deliver a kiss to my lips that left me wanting. “You know want it. Let me put a baby in the oven.”
Shit. Mason was so damn irresistible when he turned on his charm. Who the hell was I kidding? Mason Keller wanted me to give him a baby. And if I knew anything, what Mason wanted, Mason always got.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, my heart filling with joy as I pulled him into a deep passionate kiss and then said, “Go for it.”
If you enjoyed this book, please take a moment to leave a review. As an independent author, I can use all the reviews I can get!
Read on for the bonus novel, Addicted: A Bad Boy Romance. And don’t forget, if you enjoyed this book, join my mailing list and you’ll be notified of any future releases!
Addicted: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance
By Lauren Landish
“Your lips would look great wrapped around my…”
Who in the world tells a girl that on their first meeting? Tyler Locklin, that’s who. He’s filthy rich and arrogant with a set of abs that is the envy of all young men everywhere, and did I forget to mention devilishly handsome? He’s a bastard of the first order. I can’t stand to be in the same room with him.
But with one wink or a flash of his mischievous grin, I go weak in the knees. It pisses me off. I’m supposed to hate him. He’s an asshole. Yet, I can’t help but be drawn to him because I’m . . . ADDICTED.
* * *
Prologue
Victoria
I squirmed beneath the silken sheets, the last vestiges of an earth-shattering orgasm coursing through my sweat-covered limbs. My breasts rose and fell below the sheets as I tried to catch my breath and regain control. After a while, my racing pulse slowly started to calm down as the tremors slowly receded. At last, a sigh escaped my lips as my body was flooded by a rush of hormones.
It was always this way.
He takes me, ravaging my body for everything that it’s worth . . . and then leaves. It’s a game he plays. He wants to leave me in a state of desperation, aching for more of his touch. Aching to feel his lips all over my body. He leaves, knowing that I’ll still be there when he comes back, wanting every piece of him.
Bastard.
I should’ve left him. I had every right to. But whenever I think I’ve finally had enough, I make up reasons why I can’t. Maybe it’s because he's one of the richest men in the country. Maybe it’s that incredible swagger or that cocky grin that says he can fuck any woman he wants. Or maybe it’s because I like feeling his eight-inch cock plowing through me like no tomorrow.
The truth is, being with him is a huge ego boost for a girl like me. He’s handsome, powerful and mysterious, and I’m a small town girl with dreams of becoming big in the fashion world. Being with him is downright intoxicating. Addicting. And I can never get enough.
There’s just one problem . . . he’s my stepbrother.
Chapter 1
Victoria
A fool. That’s what my mother has always called me for choosing a career in the fashion industry. Why can’t I aspire to work in a real industry with more stability? She’d ask.
“Because that’s always been my dream, Mother,” I’d say.
“Well, sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but dreams don’t pay the bills.”
Then she’d go on to berate me, telling me how much of a mistake I was making with my life. It got so bad that after I graduated from college and got a job as a personal assistant for one of the most popular designers in the city, Christine Finnerman, we had a huge falling out. I don’t know what it was with her and my pursuing my dream of fashion.
Every day, she would call me to tell me that it wasn’t too late to turn around and do something else with my life. She would offer alternatives to my career choice—all of which I hated with a passion. For a while I put up with her not-so-subtle suggestions, but I was infuriated every second that I had to listen to her complaining, and it took great effort to hold it all in. I mean, isn’t it a parent’s duty to encourage their child's hopes, dreams and aspirations? Not so for my mother. She seemed to take a special kind of glee in telling me I was doing it all wrong.
Finally, I could take no more. The feelings that I’d been holding back had boiled over and I soon started getting into shouting matches with my mother, saying things better left unsaid. Of course, none of these arguments ever ended well, and we ended up not speaking to each other for weeks at a time.