He'll get what he wants-even if I'm already taken. Holt Sebastian is royalty in our world. As CEO of the Sebastian News Corp, he's the man with all the power. The man who decides if I'll always just be a local television anchor or if I'll be the rising star of my own show. I make it my mission to be noticed. Make him see my potential. But soon, it's clear he's the one in charge. His possessiveness is brutal. His eyes own everything they touch. I feel his gaze on me when he's in the room. The heat of them as they rake down my body, taking me in, marking me as his. He doesn't just want me on the screen-he wants me in his bed. And Holt Sebastian gets what he wants. No one will stop him, no one will get in his way. No one can protect me from his desire. Not even the man who promised nothing would come between us and his ambition-my husband.
BRYSTIN
Where the fuck are you? Are you trying to blow this?
I glance at the text, trying not to move too much since Zully is currently applying my eye shadow.
"Michael?" Zully asks with typical disdain. She's never liked Michael and has never made any attempt to hide it. She blames it on her Middle Eastern heritage, claiming that being mouthy is in her genes.
There's no point, but I defend him anyway. "He has his producer hat on."
"My boss ever talked to me like that, and I'd tell him to shove it where the sun doesn't shine, baby. Look up."
Looking up means I can't reply to the text. Anyway, I'm almost there, and I'd rather have Michael anxious than have smeared eyeliner. Thank God our Lyft driver isn't a thrill-seeker. Still, we've had more than a few stops and starts as we've crept along 52nd Street. "How are you even doing this in a car?"
"Very carefully." The speed of her words matches the carefulness of her hand as she lines one eye then the other. When she's done, she leans back, eye pencil propped in the air like it's a cigarette or a magic wand, and admires her work. "I really am brilliant."
My laugh is more giggle than usual. Must be nerves. "Not that you don't deserve the praise, but cocky much?"
"Yes, please." She waits a beat. "Oh, that wasn't an offer. I hear the word cock and my mind goes places." She pulls a pencil from the makeup kit spread across her lap. "Open up, sweetie."
I can't make any dirty comment in reply since now she's working on my lips. My phone buzzes again, another text from Michael, most likely.
"Touch your phone and die," Zully tells me. Just then, the driver slams on the brakes, and the pencil swerves. I can tell from Zully's wide brown eyes that the jolt caused a lining error. She glares at the back of the driver's head then takes a breath. "It's fine, it's fine." She uses her finger to blot at the skin above my mouth.
She pulls back to look at me again, her genie-style ponytail bobbing like she's about to grant a wish. "Actually, you look fantastic. I must be a god."
"Zully!"
"It helps that you're absolutely gorgeous, even without makeup, but you know that. You don't need to hear it. I do. I'm fragile."
She has one hell of an ego for being fragile, but I suppose those two traits often go hand-in-hand. I squeeze her hand. "You don't know how much I appreciate this."
"I'd love for you to tell me, but we're here, and you're late." Zully reaches over me and opens my door before the car has stopped completely. "Fly, little bird!"
Sure that I have my phone and my purse, I'm giddy as I step out of the car, bolstered as I always am from my oldest friend's company.
"You're a knockout," Zully calls after me. "Everyone will be dying to get into your Simone Pérèles. Just remember to hire me as your face designer when you make it to the big time."
Of course the sidewalk in front of the Sebastian Center is busy as usual, and I'd be embarrassed about all the heads turning in my direction if I had the time.
But I don't. So I keep my chin up and ignore the looks and comments from strangers.
As I push my way toward the doors, I wonder briefly if this is how it will feel to be a celebrity. Because I will be one. Positive mindset, as Michael always says.
Inside, I skip the main elevators and hurry down the hallway toward the wing devoted to the media division of the Sebastian empire. This bank of elevators is only for employees, which technically I'm not, but since I'm an anchor at one of the Sebastian's local news networks, I'm on the list tonight.
"Brystin Shaw," I say to the security guard when he asks for my name.
While he enters it into his iPad for confirmation, I look around to get my bearings. There's a trio wrapped in conversation a few feet away, dressed in cocktail attire, suggesting they might also be headed up to the ceremony. There's also a man in a tux, his head down as he types something into his phone. I seem to be the only one trying to get on the elevator, which means I'm really late. Everyone else is probably already upstairs and seated.
Michael's so going to kill me.
I catch my reflection in one of the steel panels. At least, I look good. A dark lip, smoky eye, my blonde hair pulled up with a few wisps curling at my shoulders. Zully really is a magician.
"News 9 in Jersey?" The guard draws my attention back to him.
"That's me."
"Got you. Head on up to sixty-three."
I scurry past him and into the waiting elevator and hit the button for the sixty-third floor. The doors begin to shut, and I let out a sigh of relief.
But then an arm shoots through the opening, and the doors part once again. It's the man in the tuxedo. As is typical for many women when put in a small space with a man they don't know, I scoot toward the back corner, lower my head, and try not to make eye contact.
He doesn't even acknowledge me, which is helpful.
When the doors are shut, and we're on our way, though, I sneak a peek in his direction.
And the breath is knocked from my lungs.
Holy shit, holy shit.
My phone still in my hand, I unlock the screensaver and pull up Zully's name in the text app.
Holy shit! It's him! In the elevator!
I follow the message up with a covert snapshot of the man who is none other than Holt Sebastian, the CEO of Sebastian News Corp. The man I'm supposed to be charming the pants off tonight in hopes that he'll notice me and one day give me my own show.
I study the photo I took while I wait for the messages to go through-stupid weak elevator signal. As the youngest CEO of SNC, Holt has more than his fair share of media attention. And because I aspire to work for him-like in this very building, not for one of his lowly network stations that no one ever watches anymore-I have done plenty of internet stalking. I already knew he was wicked attractive, but damn. Even at the weird profile angle my camera caught, his jawline is a work of art. I can't imagine looking at him straight on. My ovaries won't be able to take it.
I zoom in on his face and realize his mouth is upturned into a smirk. Did he know I was taking his picture?
Before I can get too panicked about it, the elevator halts abruptly.
Our lips stayed locked as we grinded and humped, a tight ball of tension growing deep in my belly. I’d never been so intimate with someone during a first kiss let alone the first night we’d met. Never felt so close to orgasm with all of my clothes still on. Never been on the verge of begging for sex from a near stranger—The sound of a throat clearing brought me tumbling out of ecstasy. Dylan broke his mouth from mine and peered around me. “Yes?” The driver. Oh my God, I’d forgotten about our driver. **** British ad exec Dylan Locke isn't looking for love. He isn't looking for fate. He's definitely not looking for Audrey Lind. She's pretty, far too young, and overly romantic--in short, exhausting. But when the girl, young enough to be his daughter, literally lands in his lap and asks for his expertise, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested. But Audrey isn't looking for love either--she's looking for lessons, and she's certain Dylan knows everything she needs to learn. If he agrees to play the teacher can he keep his heart? Of course he can. Then again, he might be lying.
Are You Sure You Want To Delete This Contact? He hesitated. Maybe he was overreacting. Just because his parents hadn’t worked out… “Christ, Brad, divorced?” Stu said into the phone. Until now, Stu hadn’t said much and his sudden outburst drew Micah’s attention. “I knew that chick was just after your money.” Stu paused. “Look, I’m real sorry to hear that. I’ll get Pam to spin it to the press however you want me to. It’s funny, I was just saying to another client that relationships in Hollywood are tough.” Stu gave a knowing wink and Micah’s mind was made up. He looked back at his phone. Are You Sure You Want To Delete This Contact? Micah pushed Yes. And Maddie from the party was erased from his phone. Erased from his life. *** On the night of her graduation from film school, straight-laced Maddie Bauers fell completely out of character for an oh-my-god make-out session with a perfect stranger. Complete with the big O. Seven years later, that romantic interlude is still fresh in her mind. That stranger is now a rich and famous actor. And she’s one very distracted camera assistant working on his latest production. She might consider another tryst…if he even remembers her.
“He’s never going to go for you,” a voice came out of the dark in front of me. “Not while you’re a virgin.” I squinted, and when I looked closer, I saw there was another bedroom at the end of the hall with the door wide open, and though I couldn’t quite make out the figure, I could see there was someone sitting in an armchair, smoking a cigarette. Or a cigar maybe. I took a step forward. Surely he wasn’t talking to me, but there didn’t seem to be anyone else around. “Excuse me?” “Weston never goes for virgins. It’s one of his rules.” Heat rushed up my neck and flooded my cheeks. “Uh…” “You’re offended.” **** When I met Donovan Kincaid, I knew he was rich. I didn’t know he was filthy. Truth be told, I was only trying to get his best friend to notice me. I knew poor scholarship girls like me didn't stand a chance against guys like Weston King and Donovan Kincaid, but I was in love with his world, of parties and s*x and power. I knew what I wanted—I knew who I wanted—until one night, their world tried to bite me back and Donovan saved me. He saved me, and then Weston finally noticed me, and I finally learned what it was to be in their world. And then what it was like to lose it. Ten years later, I’ve found my way back. Back to their world. Back to him. This time, I’m ready. I've been down this road before, and I know all the dirty, filthy ways Donovan will try and wreck me. But it’s hard to resist. Especially when I know how much I’ll like it.
I hated how he said my name, like he had all the power because he knew that bit of information about me. Hated it and loved it. I also hated how his eyes drew up my body, long and slow. Sensually touching my every curve, my every angle. Hated and loved it. Hated that I loved it. I sat on the chair that was still behind me, not trusting my legs to keep me steady for much longer. “What exactly is this deal you have? And who are you?” “I,” he paused, “am JC.” I’d never heard of him. “JC…?” “Just JC.” He said it like it answered everything. Two short syllables to put me in my place. “As in Jesus Christ?” JC chuckled as well, his expression brash and sexy. “I’ve been called that. But usually only when my face is pressed between a woman’s thighs.” Ew. Also, hot. —— The only reward Gwen Anders got from her rough childhood was a thick skin and hard heart. She’s content with her daily grind managing a top NYC nightclub—Eighty-Eighth Floor. So hers isn’t a happily ever after. She doesn’t believe in those anyway. Then she meets J.C. The rich, smooth talking playboy is the sexiest thing that Gwen has ever encountered, but she’s not interested in a night-in-shining latex. But when a family tragedy pushes her to the brink, it’s J.C. who’s there to teach her a new method of survival, one based on following primal urges and desires. His no-strings-attached lessons require her to abandon her constant need for control. Her carefully built walls are obliterated. Gwen discovers there’s a beautiful world outside her prison. Freedom is exhilarating—and terrifying. When she starts to feel something for J.C., she fears for her heart. Especially as she realizes that he has secrets of his own. Secrets that don't want to set him free.
“I don’t need your money.” She stuck out her chin. Insistent. “I do fine.” “‘Fine,’ but you’re getting kicked out of your hotel room—” “Fine doesn’t mean I can spare the money for an impromptu trip to NYC and a fancy hotel room. Regular people don’t have gobs of cash lying around.” The comment about regular people hit me in the gut. Because I’d always been the regular one, and she’d never been anything close to “regular.” But I understood what she was saying. She wasn’t desperate. She could take care of herself. She just couldn’t take care of this, and to make matters worse, the reason she’d splurged on this was because she’d put all of her hope in me saying I’d help her out, and I refused. ___ We were supposed to run away after graduation. When she didn’t show at our meeting place, I got brave and went after her. It was a mistake. I left bloodied and bruised. I had no choice but to walk away. Years passed. I traveled, settled halfway around the world, made enough money that I didn’t have to look back. But I never got over her. Then, out of the blue, she calls. And, what she asks for, the favor that she wants? I never thought I'd be willing to take a life. But the truth is, and always has been: I'd do anything for her.
How (not) to get over your crush: compare him to every man on your dating app... Chloe is on the wrong side of her quarter-life crisis. Dead-end job, lease ending, and single af. It’s made all the harder by knowing exactly who the perfect man for her is: her super hot, incredibly kind, and extremely taken friend Austin. What’s a girl to do but drown her troubles in pinot and let her bestie open her an account on a dating app? If there are other perfect men out there, she’s determined to find them. Her ensuing series of boyfriends spark several revelations for Chloe: Never date a man with step-mommy issues. Always ask about criminal records on the first date. Swimsuits were never intended to be made from leather. Maybe perfection is as overrated as her new app.
Mia's life is spiraling out of control. Abandoned by her mother, bullied mercilessly at school, and thrown into a household of four dangerously attractive stepbrothers, she's desperate to find her footing. "You look absolutely edible," Sean growled, his eyes devouring her. Mia felt a rush of heat between her thighs "Oh, you think so?" she purred, turning to face him. She reached out and traced her fingers along the ribbon that wrapped around his waist. "Well, I've been waiting for this all day. And I'm starving." Sean's smile grew into a predatory grin. "Then let us feast," he said, and in a flash, the ribbon fell away, exposing his rock-hard length. He stepped closer, and Mia felt the warmth of his breath on her face as he whispered, "You're going to take every inch of us tonight, aren't you?" With Rolex's teasing smirk and Sean's quiet, hot stares, Mia doesn't know where to turn-or who to trust. Every glance, every touch leaves her breathless, confused, and craving more than she should. Will Mia survive their games, or will she lose herself in a dangerous world of secrets, seduction, and forbidden desire? One house. Four brothers. Endless temptation.
My boyfriend called, "Baby!" as he jumped out of bed and scrambled to pull his pants off the ground. "Please, I can explain my love." Shutting my eyes, I inhaled deeply and tried not to cry when I realized that my dream of the man not being my boyfriend had been dashed. "What?" I asked, "What do you want to explain?" How did you lie about having a business meeting while you were in bed enjoying yourself with my best friend, even though I told you I was in serious pain, is that it?" I stood there, my heart pounding, and tears streaming down my face...
Madisyn was stunned to discover that she was not her parents' biological child. Due to the real daughter's scheming, she was kicked out and became a laughingstock. Thought to be born to peasants, Madisyn was shocked to find that her real father was the richest man in the city, and her brothers were renowned figures in their respective fields. They showered her with love, only to learn that Madisyn had a thriving business of her own. "Stop pestering me!" said her ex-boyfriend. "My heart only belongs to Jenna." "How dare you think that my woman has feelings for you?" claimed a mysterious bigwig.
Darya spent three years loving Micah, worshipping the ground he walked on. Until his neglect and his family's abuse finally woke her up to the ugly truth-he doesn't love her. Never did, never will. To her, he is a hero, her knight in shining armour. To him, she is an opportunist, a gold digger who schemed her way into his life. Darya accepts the harsh reality, gathers the shattered pieces of her dignity, divorces him, takes back her real name, reclaims her title as the country's youngest billionaire heiress. Their paths cross again at a party. Micah watches his ex-wife sing like an angel, tear up the dance floor, then thwart a lecher with a roundhouse kick. He realises, belatedly, that she's exactly the kind of woman he'd want to marry, if only he had taken the trouble to get to know her. Micah acts promptly to win her back, but discovers she's now surrounded by eligible bachelors: high-powered CEO, genius biochemist, award-winning singer, reformed playboy. Worse, she makes it pretty clear that she's done with him. Micah gears up for an uphill battle. He must prove to her he's still worthy of her love before she falls for someone else. And time is running out.
Chloe Miler, a naïve young woman, waits shyly to spend Valentine's Day with her boyfriend, but is betrayed on that day when she witnesses him entangled in bed with her own sister. Chloe's heart is broken when her heartfelt love for him is trampled on in an instant. *** Lionel Williams, the mysterious billionaire, the top of the pyramid, is handsome as hell. His eyes are set high, but he is drugged, has a one-night stand with a strange woman, and is humiliated by that unknowing woman with her money! His instincts tell him it's not that simple, and he's going to find her out!
Joelle thought she could change Adrian's heart after three years of marriage, but she realized too late that it already belonged to another woman. "Give me a baby, and I'll set you free." The day Joelle went into labor, Adrian was traveling with his mistress on his private jet. "I don't care whom you love. My debt is paid. From now on, we have nothing to do with each other." Not long after Joelle left, Adrian found himself begging on his knees. "Please come back to me."