Strong. Arrogant. Hard.
Ryder Cole is the king of the Atlanta underworld — and my one shot at erasing my past. I should keep my distance, but he won’t stay away. And this man's not the kind of guy to let me down gently.
Cassie McEntire has a gold medal-worthy ass: tight and defined, with the curve of a half moon. No matter what she wears, it’s there, pressing against her jeans or shorts or skirt, just waiting, tempting someone to grab it or bite it or press his fingers into her flesh, each cheek a perfect handful.
Which this fucking superhero movie stand-in, with his hand only inches above her ass, seems determined to experience for himself.
I’m barely aware of the two grown men behind me trying to pummel each other into oblivion in the ring. We’ve made a lot of money tonight, but immediately after every time Tyler gives me a numbers update, the information dissolves, moves out of the way so my brain can focus on more urgent matters, like what color panties are covering Cassie’s world-class ass, and what they’d look like in a ball on my bedroom floor.
This week in my office, I hadn’t meant to be a prick. I hadn’t meant to be anything other than naked and sweaty and loud with her. I said a dumb thing, then I said that I was sorry, which I thought was the right thing, but from the way she’s dressed tonight, the way she’s holding onto that boy band reject, she’s clearly going to make me work a little harder to get back to tasting her skin, feeling her hips pressed against me.
From the bar she glances at me, teasing me, and I fucking love it. It’s sexy as hell, a woman who knows how badly I want her making sure I know how badly everyone else wants her, too. But this little game of wills can’t go on all night. One of us has to concede. Give up. Submit to the other one’s dominance.
And like I say, I always win.
Boy Band is consumed with waving down the bartender as I walk toward the bar, and he doesn’t notice me. His hand is still on Cassie, having migrated to the small of her back. I stand on the other side of her. Her head is turned away from me, but she cuts her eyes in my direction, and seeing me brings the ghost of a smile to her pretty, plump lips. I push her hair away from her ear and whisper, “It’s time to go, Tiger.”
She tilts her head toward me. “Says who?”
“Your boss,” I say.
“I’m not your employee tonight.”
“But you’re still mine,” I say. I let my hand drop down her side. “Every part of you.” Slowly, my fingertips slide beneath the front hem of her dress, trailing up her inner thigh. Very still, she grips the bar and closes her eyes, spreading her legs slightly, giving me access to her pussy, wet and warm and slick.
About The Author
Eve Jagger is a native of Georgia and is a true southern girl at heart. A stay at home mom to two kids, she's married to a sexy man who doesn’t mind being used as research for those naughty scenes. Eve cut her teeth writing in high school and college, but it wasn’t until recently that she got the itch to write a full length novel. She loves complex, emotionally-charged characters and wild, sexy leading men. Hard: A Sexy Bastard Book releases at the end of April 2015 and she can’t wait for you to meet her characters that occupy her mind 24/7!
Eve loves to talk and meet people on social media, so be sure and touch base with her on Facebook or Twitter.