When my father ‘died’ five years ago I took over the ‘family business’. But when I say business, I really mean secret society. Or cult. Or militia. Hell, let’s keep it simple and call it the mob.
It’s just not that mob.
It’s much darker, much dirtier, and much more dangerous than any old everyday mob.
And I was perfectly fine with my role in life for a long time. But now my brothers are involved and I need to get them out.
Enter Megan Machette.
When I found her helpless, nearly-naked, and chained to a wall on an island prison I had no intention of being her Prince Charming. But then I found out she had a dirty, dark, dangerous secret that could solve all my family problems.
I was just going to use her. Play her. Tell her everything she wanted to hear.
I never planned on baring my secrets to her in a midnight confession and I certainly never expected her to see past the dark filth inside my soul and find the man underneath.
But she did.
She wasn’t supposed to be the princess I wasn’t looking for.
But she is.
And now I will do anything—even use her evil secret to take down thousands of people—to save my brothers and get what I want.
Her.
Bossy Brothers: Johnny features a prince saving his princess from a life of hell, one or ten romantic gestures from a tattooed bad boy, swimming with glowing dolphins in the Bahamas, and secrets so deep everyone almost drowns. Bossy Brothers: Johnny is book three in the series and can be read alone but should be read in order.
MEGAN
“How come you don’t mind when I say ‘cock?’”
He leans in, soft mouth nibbling my ear, and whispers, “Because a dirty mouth isn’t the same thing as dirty talking. I really like the dirty talk. And if you’re really sincere about asking me why now, why you? Well, then let me take this opportunity to convince you my offer is well thought out and real.”
My mouth is open. My heart is racing. My nipples are tight and the sweet spot between my legs is throbbing. I suck in a breath and hold it.
“I want to untie that little string bikini I bought for you this afternoon, throw it out to sea, wrap your legs around my middle, stick my thick, hard cock up inside you, and then fuck you slowly in the light of the moon.”
I breathe out. “We might drown.”
He bites my earlobe. His feet making underwater waves as he keeps us afloat.
“Sometimes the price of victory is high. But I promise you, it won’t end in drowning. All you have to do is say yes.”
I want to say yes. I wanted him to make this move last night. I thought he would make this move last night. So why am I hesitating?
Maybe it’s because he’s thrown me some curveballs today. Starting with all that chastising about swearing, then the uncharacteristic self-doubt in the restaurant, then he changed the plan and gave me presents… and tied that ribbon around my wrist like he was claiming me as his.
Jesus Christ. I’m delusional.
But all that does actually add up to something and it could be this… gesture.
Or offer. Or whatever it is he’s doing.
It doesn’t add up.
“Or,” he says, his fingers tugging on one of the strings holding my bottoms on until it comes loose, “you could just tell me no when you want me to stop, if that’s the way you play submit.”
“Submit?” I laugh. But his hand is already tugging on the other string. And the next thing I know I’m not wearing bottoms anymore.
They’re floating free somewhere down below me. A thing of the sea now.
He just keeps going. His hands reach up to the rhinestone clasp between my breasts, opening it in one swift, well-practiced move, and they’re free, his palms squeezing them tight until I let out a small moan.
“Tell me no,” he whispers into my ear. “Because unless you tell me no, I’m gonna keep going like it’s a yes.”
I bite my lip, but I don’t say no.
Then his open mouth is on mine. His lips soft, but somehow still demanding and punishing. Both hands come up to my face to hold me there. Captive in his kiss.
We start to sink, and I struggle away, my hands and feet treading water to keep us afloat. But his hands drop down to my thighs, gripping them tight as he opens me up. Immediately, I press my knees around his middle. His fingers tug on his board shorts, and then his cock is between my open legs. Pressing, pushing, insisting on being inside me.
“Hold on to me,” he whispers past my lips, our mouths still kissing.
And I do. Desperately. My arms circle his neck and my legs circle his hips. Giving him permission to enter me fully.
It’s the slowest fuck I’ve ever experienced. There’s barely any friction. There’s no forceful pushing and thrusting. There’s just not enough resistance in the water for a hard fuck like that.
But I don’t need any of that right now. My body is hot, and alive, and begging for more. And even though he’s not giving me more, he has no more to give while we’re in the ocean like this, I don’t really need it. Every small movement excites me. Every brush of his lips against mine thrills me. And when his hand on my hip lowers down the curve of my ass and presses between my legs, I’m almost embarrassed at how wonderful that feels.
I gasp a little. We’re no longer kissing. But our foreheads are pressed together. Our breathing ragged and matched. His feet kicking underwater to keep us afloat.
I let go of him and drop my fingers down between our bodies, pressing against the hard muscles of his stomach, until my fingers flip over so I can play with myself.
Johnny leans in and bites my neck. I gasp, and he pulls back, kissing it softly. But then he bites again, and again, and again until some unknown, never-before-experienced feeling of lust and desire fills my body and…
“Oh, shit,” I moan softly. “Shit.”
I come on my fingers. His hard cock barely inside me.
I bury my head into his neck, embarrassed. Not really understanding how that even happened.
He leans over on his side. One hand gripping my waist, holding us together, the other dragging us towards the shore.
I don’t even know what’s happening and I’m starting to feel uncomfortable and weird about what I just did when I realize he’s standing on the sandy ocean floor, lifting me up. Carrying me through the crashing waves to the beach.
He lays me down, half in, half out of the rolling surf. His body covers mine, his hands on both my cheeks once again, his mouth open, tongue inside me.
Then he lets go of my face, grabs both knees with both hands, opens me back up, and slips inside.
And this time his cock—still rock hard—refuses to fuck me slowly.
“How come you don’t mind when I say ‘cock?’”
He leans in, soft mouth nibbling my ear, and whispers, “Because a dirty mouth isn’t the same thing as dirty talking. I really like the dirty talk. And if you’re really sincere about asking me why now, why you? Well, then let me take this opportunity to convince you my offer is well thought out and real.”
My mouth is open. My heart is racing. My nipples are tight and the sweet spot between my legs is throbbing. I suck in a breath and hold it.
“I want to untie that little string bikini I bought for you this afternoon, throw it out to sea, wrap your legs around my middle, stick my thick, hard cock up inside you, and then fuck you slowly in the light of the moon.”
I breathe out. “We might drown.”
He bites my earlobe. His feet making underwater waves as he keeps us afloat.
“Sometimes the price of victory is high. But I promise you, it won’t end in drowning. All you have to do is say yes.”
I want to say yes. I wanted him to make this move last night. I thought he would make this move last night. So why am I hesitating?
Maybe it’s because he’s thrown me some curveballs today. Starting with all that chastising about swearing, then the uncharacteristic self-doubt in the restaurant, then he changed the plan and gave me presents… and tied that ribbon around my wrist like he was claiming me as his.
Jesus Christ. I’m delusional.
But all that does actually add up to something and it could be this… gesture.
Or offer. Or whatever it is he’s doing.
It doesn’t add up.
“Or,” he says, his fingers tugging on one of the strings holding my bottoms on until it comes loose, “you could just tell me no when you want me to stop, if that’s the way you play submit.”
“Submit?” I laugh. But his hand is already tugging on the other string. And the next thing I know I’m not wearing bottoms anymore.
They’re floating free somewhere down below me. A thing of the sea now.
He just keeps going. His hands reach up to the rhinestone clasp between my breasts, opening it in one swift, well-practiced move, and they’re free, his palms squeezing them tight until I let out a small moan.
“Tell me no,” he whispers into my ear. “Because unless you tell me no, I’m gonna keep going like it’s a yes.”
I bite my lip, but I don’t say no.
Then his open mouth is on mine. His lips soft, but somehow still demanding and punishing. Both hands come up to my face to hold me there. Captive in his kiss.
We start to sink, and I struggle away, my hands and feet treading water to keep us afloat. But his hands drop down to my thighs, gripping them tight as he opens me up. Immediately, I press my knees around his middle. His fingers tug on his board shorts, and then his cock is between my open legs. Pressing, pushing, insisting on being inside me.
“Hold on to me,” he whispers past my lips, our mouths still kissing.
And I do. Desperately. My arms circle his neck and my legs circle his hips. Giving him permission to enter me fully.
It’s the slowest fuck I’ve ever experienced. There’s barely any friction. There’s no forceful pushing and thrusting. There’s just not enough resistance in the water for a hard fuck like that.
But I don’t need any of that right now. My body is hot, and alive, and begging for more. And even though he’s not giving me more, he has no more to give while we’re in the ocean like this, I don’t really need it. Every small movement excites me. Every brush of his lips against mine thrills me. And when his hand on my hip lowers down the curve of my ass and presses between my legs, I’m almost embarrassed at how wonderful that feels.
I gasp a little. We’re no longer kissing. But our foreheads are pressed together. Our breathing ragged and matched. His feet kicking underwater to keep us afloat.
I let go of him and drop my fingers down between our bodies, pressing against the hard muscles of his stomach, until my fingers flip over so I can play with myself.
Johnny leans in and bites my neck. I gasp, and he pulls back, kissing it softly. But then he bites again, and again, and again until some unknown, never-before-experienced feeling of lust and desire fills my body and…
“Oh, shit,” I moan softly. “Shit.”
I come on my fingers. His hard cock barely inside me.
I bury my head into his neck, embarrassed. Not really understanding how that even happened.
He leans over on his side. One hand gripping my waist, holding us together, the other dragging us towards the shore.
I don’t even know what’s happening and I’m starting to feel uncomfortable and weird about what I just did when I realize he’s standing on the sandy ocean floor, lifting me up. Carrying me through the crashing waves to the beach.
He lays me down, half in, half out of the rolling surf. His body covers mine, his hands on both my cheeks once again, his mouth open, tongue inside me.
Then he lets go of my face, grabs both knees with both hands, opens me back up, and slips inside.
And this time his cock—still rock hard—refuses to fuck me slowly.
Emma is super pretty, super smart, and super rich. So WHY is she kidnapping the billionaire she just bought in the bachelor auction?
Thirteen years before Emma Dumas bought me in a bachelor auction to teach me a lesson she stole my heart down on Key West. I fell so hard for this girl I made all the promises. Only with Emma, I really meant them. And then I disappeared. But it wasn’t my fault. Let’s just call my reason “Family Business”. I’d tell you what that business is, but then I’d have to kill you. Just kidding. I can’t tell you what my family business is because it’s so secret, even I don’t know. My point is… I didn’t ghost. It was a weird twist of circumstances. And OK, yes. I did hook up with pretty much every girl on the island that week. But after I met Emma, I was ruined. She’s the only one I wanted. It’s been thirteen years. I’m a changed man. I STILL want her. I have ALWAYS wanted her. But it’s kind of hard to tell her that with a gag in my mouth and a hood over my head. Bossy Brothers: Jesse features a bachelor auction gone wrong, four smart ladies who botch a crazy revenge kidnapping, a fancy power dream date with fast cars, private jets, and expensive yachts, lots of ex-sex, and a happily ever after that proves… sometimes the best man for the job is a woman. |
Six years before my phone rang and changed my life forever, I made a mistake.
I met a girl, we had some fun, and then we had a baby. And I fell pretty damn hard for my daughter. I was going to be there. I was going to give her everything I never had. I was going to have a family. And then her mother disappeared and took my baby with her. And now she’s done it again. Because that call that changed my life was from my five-year-old daughter asking me if I knew where her Mommy was. Then came the lawyers. And the demands from her super-rich, super-powerful messed-up family. And the little fact that my ex didn’t just “disappear” she was “presumed dead”. I don’t live a traditional lifestyle and I’m not in a traditional relationship. But I can pretend if I have to. And that was the plan when my two “best friends” and I decided to hire “professional liar” Brooke Alder to be my fake fiancรฉe. It’s totally gonna work. As long as MY super-rich, super-powerful, messed-up family doesn’t get in the way. Bossy Brothers: Joey is book two in the Bossy Brothers series and features a delicious, burning hot, MMFM, surprise-baby, fake fiancรฉe story with a twist that proves committed couples don’t just come in two’s, mistakes can be a good thing, and for some people—non-traditional love is exactly the kind they should fight for. |
Let the weddings begin!
I love the Dumas clan. I really do. I adore Emma’s bossy mother, her too-tall, but lovable father, and her three intimidating, tattooed brothers. And Saturday night dinners have been the BEST. Seriously, the BEST. I don’t even mind that we have to take Emma’s corporate jet down to Key West every freaking weekend to make that date. They really are everything I never had, and always wanted, in a family. But… but… they are maybe just a little bit crazy. And that’s saying something considering my last name. So when Emma gets tired of her mother’s constant wedding plans and offers up a spur-of-the-moment elopement in Vegas… well… my answer is a big, Hell, yeah! I figured we’d hit up that famous drive-through wedding chapel, tie the knot with Elvis officiating, and make it back home in time for Christmas Eve dinner. But I might’ve underestimated Emma’s sassy mom just a wee little bit. Because here she is. At my wedding. And she is having none of it. Because she brought everyone with her. |
Tara Tanner and I are a thing.
We’re just not that kind of a thing. My brothers and I run every kind of Key West water adventure you can think of. But I’m hiding a big secret behind our beachy business facade. A secret I will not expose no matter what. So I don’t do girlfriends. Hell, I don’t even do friends. Except for her. For the past two years Tara Tanner has been the perfect long-distance girlfriend. A shy librarian with a healthy streak of nerd. And best of all she lives more two thousand miles away and there’s absolutely no chance I will ever have to meet her in person. It’s all online messaging and innocent phone dates. She thinks I’m a boring accountant. Some pencil pusher with Buddy Holly glasses. Her type. Her dream man. Socially awkward and never been kissed. You call it catfishing, I call it being careful. Until one day she shows up on my beach. And all of a sudden it’s not my fake profile I’m worried about. It’s hers. Because she’s not who she said she was either. Bossy Brothers: Alonzo is book five in the Bossy Brothers series and features a sexy game of guess-who, three Dumas brothers who never wear shirts, a wayward fishing trip that turns into a dream date, and two big secrets that will both melt your heart and make it pound with excitement. Read as book five or as a standalone story. |
Her new sexy sci-fi romance and paranormal romance pen name is KC Cross and she writes novels and teleplays collaboratively with actor and screenwriter, Johnathan McClain.
Her books have sold millions of copies all over the world, the audio version of her semi-autobiographical book, Eighteen, was nominated for a Voice Arts Award and an Audie Award in 2016 and 2017 respectively. Her audiobook, Mr. Perfect, was nominated for a Voice Arts Award in 2017. Her audiobook, Taking Turns, was nominated for an Audie Award in 2018. Five of her book were optioned for a TV series by MGM television in 2018. And her book, Total Exposure, was nominated for a RITA Award in 2019.
She lives on a ranch in Central Colorado with her family.
Win a $20 Amazon gift card!
๐ Below is a third-party ad. Click it if you like it, ignore it if you don't! ๐
(I receive a tiny commission if you click on an ad.)
I really like both! Sometimes you get so caught up in all the people in a series that it is fun to keep revisiting them.
ReplyDeleteI like series because I get invested in characters.
ReplyDeleteI generally prefer series.
ReplyDeleteI prefer series.
ReplyDeleteLove the cover!!!
ReplyDeletei like both
ReplyDeletestandalones
ReplyDeleteI usually like a series of books if the characters are good and don't get boring.
ReplyDelete