Liv Morris – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Tue, 18 Sep 2018 01:57:33 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0.2 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Liv Morris – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Daddy Issues Read online Liv Morris http://www.ilovenovels.com/daddy-issues-read-online-liv-morris Tue, 18 Sep 2018 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/daddy-issues-read-online-liv-morris Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Daddy Issues

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Liv Morris
Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B081QV5CY5
Book Information:

A single billionaire, a young nanny, and a surprise baby from USA Today bestselling author, Liv Morris.
My life was ordered. Smooth and neat like my scotch. I had arranged relationships with a beginning and end. No romantic attachments was my motto.
Then I met Maggie. A beautiful, young woman trying to find her place in the gritty world of Manhattan. She deserved more than a jaded man like me, so I let her walk away.
But fate stepped in and an ex-lover surprised me with a baby she claimed was mine. Desperate I hired a well-recommended nanny sight unseen. When she knocked at the door of my penthouse, I opened it to find Maggie standing on the other side.
I watched Maggie lovingly care for my child and wanted to learn to be a father to my daughter. But having Maggie so close was dangerous. She was a terrifying ray of sunshine that threatened to thaw my frozen heart.
I needed her for my child. At least that's what I told myself. Until it was too late.
Books by Author:

Liv Morris Books


1

Lucas

After finishing my workout, I grabbed a towel and wiped away the sweat of yesterday’s sins—even as they were still lying asleep in my bed. I walked toward my gym’s wall of windows and caught the first rays of sun lighting up the eastern horizon, awakening Manhattan from its slumber.

People would call me lucky to start my morning with such a spectacular view, but all I saw was another day where I had to plaster on my perfected game face—conquer my demons until time recycled into another sunrise and the masquerade started all over again.

I closed my eyes, trying to delete the sad, philosophical track stuck on repeat. I needed to focus, unleash the power inside me, and all the other crap self-help mantras I’d heard on late-night infomercials. Those shows worked for one thing only: helping insomniacs fall asleep.

“Excuse me, sir.” A perfect distraction from my thoughts presented itself. It appeared my workday was starting early.

I spun toward the door where my personal assistant stood in a black suit and politician red tie, his trusty tablet in hand. It was like looking at a snapshot from a Brooks Brothers ad campaign—minus the megawatt smile.

He graduated from UPenn’s prestigious Wharton School of Business. I selected him because his middle name was Ambition. I also paid him more than his classmates, who were still slugging it out at underperforming hedge funds, hoping to save the day and catch the owner’s eye. My assistant’s one-page nondisclosure agreement summed up our relationship: if he fucked with me, it would be the last time he got his jollies off in this town.

“Yes, Jared.” My response was curt and to the point.

I didn’t like being caught off guard or when he entered my domain without notice. I reigned as king of this castle in the sky. My feet shuffled toward him as he swiped away on his tablet, his brows knitted in concentration.

“Your father called an emergency meeting this morning.”

Jared glanced up at me. I thought he was smarter than tossing a bomb in my direction, especially when I was close enough to punch his clean-shaven jaw. His eyes scanned over my face, looking for a fracture or tiny fissure in my resolve, but I learned long ago to cool my features at the mention of dear old Dad. I couldn’t stop my shoulders from tightening, or my hand from forming a fist, but he wouldn’t see the simmering anger on my face.

I exhaled a deep breath laced with years of resentment, choosing to focus on how Jared ended up standing in my gym without my assistance.

“I suppose that would explain you entering the penthouse.” Sarcasm concealed the concern stirring up inside me.

“I did knock.”

I lifted a brow, waiting for him to continue. A slight tip of his lips cracked his usual concrete, stick-up-his-ass demeanor.

“Barbie answered the door.”

“Did she?” I scoffed, thinking of Barbie greeting Jared fresh out of my bed.

I breezed past him and headed down the hallway to my soulless granite and stainless steel kitchen. The heels of his Italian shoes clicked against the marble floor behind me.

“Yes. She was on her way out, I believe.”

“At least she was dressed.” Not that he would care. He would be more interested in her brother, if she had one.

“Find out what he wants. I don’t plan on walking into the meeting unprepared. And make me my usual protein shake. I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

“Yes, sir.” The bedroom door shut as his words made it to my ears.

The sheets on the empty bed were twisted and turned like a river running through a canyon. My housekeeper would change the bedding, removing all remnants of last night. It gave her something to do besides searching the penthouse for a speck of dust.

I entered my bathroom and walked toward the reason I’d purchased this apartment: the million-dollar shower.

The shower’s wall was floor-to-ceiling glass with an unobstructed view of the outside world. My building towered over the south end of Central Park; nothing but trees and green grass for over fifty blocks.

If I believed in a God, this would be my church, the water running over me like a baptism, washing away my sins, with the heavens almost in reach. I’d never shared this sacred haven with anyone.

Fifteen minutes later, I was dressed in a dark blue suit and coordinating tie, downing my protein drink in the back seat of my personal sedan. My driver sailed down the lanes of West Side Highway toward my office on Wall Street, the world’s money mecca.

My family’s business paid homage by keeping the gears of capitalism turning. It had made generations of my family filthy rich, but our souls were as worthless as the buy-and-sell cards trampled underfoot on the exchange floor.

My sister, Chloe, was the one exception to the Shaw family madness. Her heart wasn’t stained with betrayal and lies, and I promised myself daily to keep her innocence out of our deceit.


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Bossy Nights Read online Liv Morris http://www.ilovenovels.com/bossy-nights-read-online-liv-morris Thu, 29 Jun 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/bossy-nights-read-online-liv-morris Categories Genre: Billionaire, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Bossy Nights

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Liv Morris
Language:
English
Book Information:

Coming soon from USA Today Bestselling Author, Liv Morris...
I’ve landed in New York City with my resume in one hand and my V-card in the other. The resume? I'll give to any man on the street. The other? Well... I won’t settle for anything less than lightning bolt chemistry and so far no one has flipped that switch.
Until I meet Barclay Hammond, CEO of the most prestigious publishing house in NYC and the city’s most eligible bachelor.
He’s commanding. Charming. Gorgeous. And my new boss.
The raw attraction between us is off the charts. Late nights together in the city, the looks he gives me across the boardroom table make him impossible to resist. I want him to be the one and he wants me too...
There’s only one BIG problem. Sleeping with your boss is strictly forbidden at Hammond Press.
Who knew losing it would be so complicated?
Books by Author:

Liv Morris Books


1

Tessa

As soon as my hotel door closes behind the bellhop, I throw my purse on the bed, walk to the window, and push the sheer curtain to the side. Manhattan’s office buildings rise to meet the sunset sky in manmade majesty. I glance down at the sidewalk, seeing people hustling along the concrete in all directions. Add a million cabs flying by, and the entire scene has a crazed energy that makes it feel alive, like it has a pulse.

And to think, I almost didn’t make it here.

I have one goal during my week here in the city: find a position that will provide enough money for me to live here permanently. It’s likely a pipedream, since I just graduated from college and have limited work experience.

My best friend, Magnolia, a name that shouts born-in-the-south, which happens to be the case for us both, plans on joining me if I do indeed secure employment this week, so failure isn’t an option. We’ve planned for years to take this city by storm, even if it means cutting each other’s hair and living on ramen noodles to afford an apartment.

Leaning against the glass, I utter a quiet prayer that somewhere in this gritty, concrete jungle, my newbie résumé lands in the right hands.

I reach for my bag and pull out my cell phone along with a strip of foil packs—aka condoms. What the hell?

“Maggie,” I mutter under my breath.

I drop the foil packs into a small trashcan by the dresser, bring up Maggie’s number on my phone, and press call. We need to talk.

“Finally, Tessa! Are you there?” Maggie says in her usual high-octane speed.

“I found the condoms,” I huff, though I’m not surprised. “What if my bag was searched at the airport and a TSA guy saw them?”

“He probably would’ve asked for your number. Loosen up, okay? What are your plans tonight?” she asks, skipping over the part where she needs to say she’s sorry.

“I don’t know.” I wasn’t crazy about venturing out for the first time alone as night settles over the city. There’s a room service folder on the desk beside me, and I flip the cover over. “Maybe I’ll order in.” A quick glance at the prices makes me cringe and reconsider this choice.

“You’ve got to be kidding. Tessa, it’s your first time by yourself in New York City! You need to do three things tonight.”

“Give them to me.” I sigh, knowing where she’s heading. Nothing changes in her demands.

Maggie’s been trying to get my cherry popped since high school. And for once, I have to agree with her. But I’m a realistic girl, and have watched every episode of Sex and the City, so I know finding a real love match in this place of non-committal relationships isn’t going to be easy. I have to be open to the options, even ones I haven’t considered before. However, one-night stands as a virgin are complicated. It’s hard to hide those pesky hymens.

“Here’s the plan,” Maggie pipes in. “One: I want you to go downstairs to the hotel restaurant for dinner. No hiding upstairs with room service. Two: actually make conversation with a man, preferably the hot kind. Three: bring him upstairs and have awesome hotel sex.”

I hear the glee in Maggie’s voice. She must be picturing me calling her tomorrow morning to tell her I’d been plucked by some guy at the bar. So not happening. Ever.

“One, yes. Two … maybe. Three, you’re hilarious and crazy.” I end with a laugh while shaking my head. “I’ve never had a random kiss, so why would you think I’d bring some random guy up to my room?”

“Live a little. No harm. No foul,” Maggie singsongs her life’s motto into my ear.

She’s right. I should live, but does that mean grabbing the first willing and able guy by the Gucci tie and dragging him upstairs?

“Believe me. I’ve been more than ready for a long time. But I have yet to meet a guy who measures up to being my V-card conqueror.”

“You still have PTSD from those jerks at Montevallo,” she says, mentioning the college we graduated from in Alabama a week ago. “Forget them. You’re starting over in a new place. No one knows about your sex handicap or that your family’s filled with policemen all over six feet tall.”

“New city. New me,” I say with all the enthusiasm I can muster, which isn’t much considering the trauma I dealt with during college.

Once word circulated that I was still a virgin during my sophomore year, an invisible bull’s-eye was placed between my legs. For three long years, I went out on a lot of first dates full of sweet talk and eager hands. No one wanted me for just me. They wanted bragging rights that they’d been my first. I shudder at the memories and pray they’re buried back at the university. At times, I feel like the Eighth Wonder of the World. Someone has their work cut out with me … I hope.


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