Madison Faye – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Madison Faye – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Sun, 09 Aug 2020 13:57:33 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Madison Faye – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Hot & Sticky Read online Madison Faye (Sunset Bay #1) http://www.ilovenovels.com/hot-sticky-1-read-online-madison-faye Sun, 09 Aug 2020 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/hot-sticky-1-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Series: Sunset Bay Series by Madison Faye
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Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	(Sunset Bay #1) Hot & Sticky
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
Book Information:
Scorching hot, stormy, humid and sticky, with a high chance of wetness ahead. And then, there’s the weather forecast… Working for my sleezy uncle at his cinnamon bun shop is hardly my idea of a fun summer before college. I should be out hanging on the beach, making bad choices, and maybe even finally getting rid of this pesky v-card. Throw in a record-setting heat wave, horrible tourist customers, and a broken air conditioner, and I’m about ready to burst into flames. And that’s before the completely gorgeous AC repair guy scorches into my world. Because after that, I’m definitely catching on fire. West Farrow is sinfully hot, rough, and dangerous—a surf loner with a glint in his eye and a jaw that makes my panties melt. He’s here to fix the AC and “cool things off"? Yeah, good freaking luck with that. But a lack of central air is the least of my problems when armed men start shooting. And before I know it, West is whisking me away from a whole heap of trouble, to his surf shack to lay low. Just me and my crazy good-looking and stormy-eyed hero: hot, sticky, and all alone. Gee, what could possibly go wrong? Smutty, steamy, and oh-so-fun. If you’re hungry for the type of beach-read to make you growl at the cabana boy, look no further ;). Get yourself a cool drink and some sun screen, because things are about to get very, very hot.
Books in Series:	Sunset Bay Series by Madison Faye
Books by Author:	Madison Faye

Chapter One

Taylor

“So are yours frosted too?”

I blink slowly, trying to decipher what the leering, creepy guy in the sunhat standing in front of me is saying.

“Sorry, sir?”

He grins lecherously and elbows his equally skuzzy looking pal. Both are sporting surf-brand clothes, though both also look like they might have heart attacks if they were to actually attempt to surf.

“I was just curious if your buns were frosted, too.”

My brow wrinkles. “Well, sir, you can get them plain if you like, though it’s the same price. You can also add extra glaze for fifty cent—”

“I’m talking about your ass, sweet cheeks.”

Instantly, my smile fades. Across the counter, the two dipshits start to chuckle at my reddening face and total lack of comeback. I have no idea how I managed to not see that one coming, especially since it’s hardly the first time a creep has decided to say it to me while working here. Actually, in the twenty-year history of the “Buns Out” cinnamon bun stand on the pier, you’d probably have a million bucks if you took a quarter every time some poor girl got that gem of a line working here.

My lips purse. I wish I was sassy enough to give them both a piece of my mind—something witty and blistering. Or I wish I was bold enough to slap them both across the face or throw a soda over their heads. But instead, I just stand there swallowing thickly, trying to come up with something while my cheeks burn.

“Oh relax, sweet cheeks, it was a fuckin’ joke,” the buddy says, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah maybe smile more, honey,” the first creep grumbles. “Look, give us two buns, both with extra frosting. Christ.”

I mumble something incoherent and turn to grab their stupid cinnamon buns. I’m tired, my feet hurt, my arms are sticky and tacky with sugar frosting up to the fucking elbows, and it’s so fucking hot. I mean, melting hot—hot like I feel like I’m serving fucking buns from inside the oven.

My hair is stuck like glue to the sides of my face, and I can feel the sweat dripping down the small of my back and soaking through the white tank-top with the “Buns Out” logo on the front. The whole uniform is disgusting—it feels like something I should be wearing as a cocktail waitress at a strip club, or maybe being up on the stage itself at said strip club. The too-small, plunged-neck white tank, the frayed, ridiculously high-cut daisy dukes, and the—wait for it—knee-high stripped socks. I literally look like I belong in a porn movie set in a cinnamon bun shop.

My uncle Matt has owned Buns Out since it started, and he’s the creep behind the uniform choice, or why no guy, ever in the history of Buns Out has ever managed to land a job here. How odd. Or any girl over the age of twenty-two. Or any girl who didn’t physically fit into his stripper outfits. Or any girl who wasn’t blonde, now that I think about it. The nice version, from my mother, is that her adoptive brother, my Uncle Matt, is a “bit of a lech sometimes.”

The unsanitized version is that he’s a disgusting creep who mentally undresses every single woman he sees, and as much as it wants to make me barf, I’m including myself in that metric.

“Miss! Miss!”

My attention snaps to the next woman in line, barking at me. She’s sweating almost as much as I am in the sweltering bun shack. It’s hot a hell outside in the blazing southern California summer heat. But the air conditioner inside is shot to hell, and my uncle’s been promising to get a repair guy in for about four days of sweaty, sticky hell.

“Miss!”

“Yes! Hi!” I smile so hard my jaw hurts. “How can I help you?”

“By not staring into space and helping me,” she mutters. “A dozen, extra extra glaze.”

“Sure thing.”

“I said extra glaze.”

I smile painfully again. “Yep! Coming right up.” I turn to start packing up her order.

“I said extra because last time, you cheaped out on the extra glaze!”

“Well, ma’am, I’m sorry that—”

"Today, honey!”

I hate my job. I kind of hate my life right now, too. Who the fuck is buying hot, sticky cinnamon buns to eat, outside, in ninety-eight-degree summer heat with an eighty percent humidity index? I mean honestly.

I give the lady her order, and I cave when she barks at me for daring to charge her for the extra glaze. I could make it a principle thing, but I honestly don’t care. I’m exhausted, I’m melting, and there’s zero respite in sight.

See, the fun part of all of this is, when I finally manage to leave tonight, after my fourth double shift in a blazing hot cinnamon bun stand with no AC, the nightmare doesn’t end. After graduation last spring, my parents sold our house and moved up to Vancouver for my dad’s new job. I stayed the summer since I’m going to be going to UCSD in the fall, and of course, I found myself working at Uncle Matt’s shop. But what’s even worse? When I go home tonight, it’s to Matt’s house. I go from working at creepy, lecherous Uncle Matt’s gross cinnamon bun stand, to sleeping in creepy, lecherous Uncle Matt’s house, where I lock the bedroom door and push a dresser in front of it every night.

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The Pool Boy Read online Madison Faye (Boys of Summer #1) http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-pool-boy-1-read-online-madison-faye Tue, 14 Apr 2020 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/the-pool-boy-1-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Series: Boys of Summer Series by Madison Faye
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Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	The Pool Boy (Boys of Summer #1)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
Book Information:
I should have looked away. I shouldn’t have watched. Except I did, and now, him and his, uh, diving board are all I can think about… I moved back to LA to start over after my divorce. Single, semi-retired after selling my lingerie company, and looking for a little peace and quiet by the pool. Except that’s before I get a glimpse of something I never should have seen—the boy next door, in his bedroom, through my bathroom window. Four years ago, Mason Dunn was a cutie with an infectious smile. Now, the boy next door is all grown up. Grown up, panty-meltingly gorgeous, and apparently, hung like a freaking horse. He’s completely inappropriate. He’s utterly off-limits. Not to mention, he’s my next door neighbor’s son. But when the tables get turned, and it’s Mason who catches me with my hands where they shouldn’t be, I might be helpless to say anything but “please.” He’s nine years my junior, but he’s perfectly legal. He’s perfectly yummy, too. The boy next door grew the fuck up, and I might be in big trouble. Huge, throbbing, coated in suntan oil, and endlessly hard trouble. Whatever is a girl to do? Sun’s out, buns out. Dive on in to the summer fling you never saw coming. Inappropriate? Yup. Filthy AF? You betcha. Grab a tall glass of something and a fan; things are about to get hot and sweaty. Safe, no cheating, and HEA guaranteed.
Books in Series:	Boys of Summer Series by Madison Faye
Books by Author:	Madison Faye

Chapter One

Layla

The southern California sun beats down on my glistening skin, making me tingle all over. A tease of heat throbs through me, pooling between my thighs as my thoughts turn dirtier, and filthier. Behind my sunglasses, my brow furrows, my eyes squeezed shut. My lips part, and I gasp slightly as my fingertips tease lower over my hips.

My tummy caves, and my pulse quickens as the memories of last night come flooding back. I flash back to what I saw, and who I saw, and my core tightens. My arousal floods my bikini bottoms, and I rake my teeth over my lips as my fingertips brush the elastic edge.

The backyard is hardly the place for this, but I know I’m shielded from any prying eyes. It’s one of the reasons I bought this house four years ago when my company was first blowing up. A lot has changed since that first taste of success, but the utter privacy of the pool area in my backyard has stayed the same.

The warm air licks over my skin, and I squirm in the lounge chair. My fingers push under the waist of my bikini, and I gasp quietly. My mind slides back to what I saw—what I watched—last night, and my nipples harden to points under my thin top. My mind replays the way his abs tightened, and the way his hand gripped his huge, thick cock so hard. The way he slid that hand up and down, his head thrown back, his biceps rippling and that jaw of his grinding hard.

The way he came—his thick ropes of cum pumping across his grooved abs and all over his hand.

This is fucking wrong. What I saw last night isn’t as inappropriate as it could have been, but it’s close. And thinking about it—thinking about him—now, is only pushing it further into “wrong.” I know damn well I should have looked away, but there was no looking away once I laid eyes on that. There was no ignoring the raw heat that blazed through me at the sight of… well, him.

His name is Mason Dunn. He lives next door to me, and last night, I realized that the windows of my recently remodeled master bathroom look directly into his bedroom.

…His bedroom in his parents’ house.

I watched the boy next door stroke his thick, big cock last night until he came all over himself, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. At. Fucking. All.

Like I said, it’s not as bad as it could have been, at least. Four years ago, when I first bought this house, seeing what I saw last night would have been illegal. It would have branded me a pervert of the worst kind. But that was then, and this is now, and a lot’s changed since then.

He’s changed a lot since then. That cute, charming boy next door isn’t a boy anymore at all, for one. I basically moved away from here two months after I moved in. My lingerie company was blowing up, and I ended up spending more and more time in New York at my new offices there. Eventually, I was mostly just a New Yorker ninety percent of the time. I wasn’t here to see when Mason Dunn graduated high school and went to Stanford. I wasn’t here to see when he went from tall and lanky to built like a quarterback.

But I’m here now, and oh do I see what he’s become.

He’s twenty-one, I’m thirty. I know he’s “old enough,” but he’s still too young for me to be fantasizing about like this. And he’s too young for me to have watched him last night, squeezing my thighs together in the dark of my master bathroom. But I can’t stop, and the more I try and tell myself not to, the more I keep replying the image of his thick cock pumping his cum over his abs.

Even last night, afterwards, I lay in bed trying to rationalize it. I told myself I was just extra on edge from going on two years of celibacy, and that includes when I was still married to Jeremy. My best friend Celeste was sure that after I divorced Jeremy’s scummy cheating ass, I’d be out there living the swinging single life and falling into one hunk’s bed after another.

And maybe that does happen for some people, but not when you’re in the middle of selling off the company you spent your life building. Even when that was done, and I found myself basically retired at thirty, I just couldn’t bring myself to go out there and “date.” It just wasn’t for me, and the idea of trying to make small talk at some bar or try and weed out the psychos on something like Tinder was overwhelming.

So, six months after the divorce, I had half my LA house remodeled, sold my New York condo, and moved back here.

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Preacher Read online Madison Faye http://www.ilovenovels.com/preacher-read-online-madison-faye Sun, 22 Dec 2019 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/preacher-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Erotic, Funny, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Advertisement

Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Preacher
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
Book Information:
Lucia needs a job and when she hears the prestigious O’Hare corporation is hiring, she throws herself into securing a position as the CEO’s personal assistant. She’s one of three, but she’s determined to stand out. Running a multinational corporation requires good help and strict office protocols. Finn O’Hare has a reputation for making money and closing deals. One look at Lucia and Finn’s empire is at risk because she’s the one woman who is against the rules.
Books by Author:	Madison Faye

Playlist

Personal Jesus - Johnny Cash

Son of a Preacher Man - Dusty Springfield

Four Winds - Bright Eyes

Jesus, Etc. - Wilco

Free Fallin’ - Tom Petty

Samson - Regina Spektor

(Antichrist Television Blues) - Arcade Fire

Losing My Religion - R.E.M.

A Little’s Enough - Angels & Airwaves

Dirty Little Religion - Warren Zebon

Isaiah - Noah Gundersen

Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley

Chapter One

Gabriel

“And LO! The wrath of the lord was vicious and terrible upon the wicked sinners! Ye, tho thou ist humble before me, thy tithes will ascend you into the Kingdom of Heaven!”

The timing is fucking perfect, too. I pound my fist hard on the pulpit just as the taped organ music hits it’s crescendo, blasting through the tinny speakers on the side of the Winnebago. For extra flourish, I splash a handful of the water mixed with glitter and bubble soap from the bowl next to me up into the air. The light catches it and it shimmers around me as it falls back to the ground, and the gathered crowd gasps and ooo’s and aaah’s.

They eat it the fuck up. Of course they do, and I knew they would, just like I know every crowd that gathers around my Winnebago or under my tent is going to cream their pants for my especially dramatic brand of fire and brimstone sermons.

“Ye! Banish the wicked from thy midsts and bestow thy gifts and tithes upon the steps of the temple!”

The trick is to suggest, not ask. You suggest that they empty their fucking pockets into the bucket at the foot of the pulpit. You suggest that the money in their pocket, or purse, or under their mattress back home is their one-way ticket to the land of salvation, endless summers, warm smiles, playing shuffleboard with the one and only Jesus Christ, or whatever the fuck it is people think is waiting on the other side.

Fuck it, if it’s doing lines of blow off Mary Magdalene’s tight little ass with Paul and Matthew, that’s what I’m giving them. That’s what I’m selling them, for the low, low price of whatever I can get them to cough up, and my shame. But, shit, that stock ran out years and miles ago.

“The mighty shall triumph over the wicked! For YE, I am the LORD! And I shall smite the heathen amongst you! Bring tithes upon my church, and my light shall guide you home! Can I GET a hallelujah!”

Ooooh there it is. Like music to my fucking ears. No, not the chorus of hallelujahs that gets called back at me, or the fervently screamed amens. I mean the sound of money hitting the bottom of that collections bucket. I grin and smile down from my perch behind the pulpit at the first customer—a frail old thing clutching a coin purse from the last century. But damn if that purse doesn’t seem to have no bottom. She just keeps digging in deep and pulling out fistfuls of coins and wadded up bills and tossing them right in.

“Bless you, preacher!” She crows, beaming up at me as she turns the fucking thing upside and empties it into the bucket.

“No, dear,” I smile broadly and piously. “Bless you.”

After that, it’s like a script playing out. Once the first one starts feeling charitable, the rest of them will follow. They always do, and they sure do here and now. No one wants to get outdone in front of Jesus. No one wants to get stuck with the last seat next to the bathrooms on the bus up to heaven.

One by one, and then in hordes, the gathered crowd brings me their hard-earned cash and dumps it in the donations bucket. If I still had a soul, I might feel a twinge of guilt over this. Luckily, I ditched that pesky fucker years ago.

“Behold! My kingdom opens unto you! For thou shalt cast aside the sinners and the heathens and trample them into the dust when you come forth to bring tithes upon my heavenly gates!”

Fuckin’ none of this is from the Bible. I mean, not even fucking close. But you throw in some “ye’s” and some “thou shalt’s” and a whole bunch of shit about the wicked and the damned, and no one bats an eye. They don’t care. Some of them might even know it, but none of them pay it any mind. My customers are the low and humble. They’re the lost, desperately looking for answers and salvation. You might say I’m slinging bullshit, or call me a fraud, or a charlatan. I’ve been called a con man, grifter, huckster, rat-bastard, and far, far worse. But you know what? I own it. Sticks and stones will not break these bones, and words are just fucking words. Words are a sales pitch, and I’m the best fucking salesman any of these yokels has ever seen.

At least, I hope I am, because if I’m not, that’s when I get run out of town on rail.

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Doctor Hero Read online Madison Faye http://www.ilovenovels.com/doctor-hero-read-online-madison-faye Tue, 10 Sep 2019 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/doctor-hero-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Advertisement

Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Doctor Hero
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
Book Information:
Three ridiculously hot, obscenely over-the-top books, altogether for the first time. Doctor Babymaker: The doctor is in. Every inch of him… I’m not supposed to touch her, at least, not in the way I want to. She’s off limits in so many ways. Too rich. Too innocent. Too never-been-touched. …Too much my patient. The sheltered young heiress is in my office so her rich, sh!tty family can see if she’s capable of bearing children. And I’m supposed to examine her – every inch of her sweet, tempting body –to check. Fck the medical code of conduct, forget professionalism, and damn the consequences. Oh, Ada can bear children alright. …so long as they’re mine. Doctor O-Maker: No O? Come and meet your cure. He’s gorgeous, dominant, panty-meltingly hot, and looks at me like he wants to tear my clothes off and fulfill every single filthy fantasy I’ve ever had. The only problem? He’s my doctor. Oops. I’m seeing him to fix “my problem” – my big “no O” problem. Yeah, you see, I’ve never had one. Doctor Aiden Owenson – “Doctor O” – is supposedly the man who can help, but I’ve got my reservations. That is, until he puts his hands on me. Until he looks at me like he wants to devour me. Until he tells me I’m his, and his alone. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to fall for your doctor. I’m pretty sure we’re breaking every rule, and I’m pretty sure I don’t care. Doctor O is supposed to show me the O. Now the only problem is, I never want him to stop. The Hitman’s Doctor: The doctor will see him now…every freaking inch of him. He’s gorgeous, ccky, tattooed, and hung like a freaking horse. On paper, he’s the dreamboat I’ve been waiting my whole life for. There’s just one teeny, tiny problem: …He’s also currently bleeding out from two bullet wounds on my operating table that he’s handcuffed to. Yeah. It turns out, my dream guy is a mob hitman on the run. Turns out, he’s dangerous, deadly, and has everyone from the FBI to the mob he ran from looking to ask him some questions or put him in the ground. It also turns out, I turn to fucking mush when he looks at me like I’m already his. It turns out, I can’t say no to him, at all. Dangerous, off-limits, inappropriate, and completely freaking irresistible. It’s my job to save his life. But it might just be his to save mine…
Books by Author:	Madison Faye

Doctor Babymaker

The doctor is in. Every inch of him…

I’m the youngest, brightest, and most hotshot medical director the fertility clinic’s ever seen. Nothing gets between me and my job, until Ada Chase walks in.

I’m not supposed to touch her, at least, not in the way I want to. She’s off limits in so many ways. Too rich. Too innocent. Too never-been-touched.

…Too much my patient.

The sheltered young heiress is in my office so her rich, shitty family can see if she’s capable of bearing children. And I’m supposed to examine her – every inch of her sweet, tempting body –to check.

But I’ve wanted her since the instant I laid eyes on her, and now I’m obsessed, possessed, and driven like I’ve never been before.

First, I’m going to make her beg.

Second, I’ll make her mine.

And third? Well, third is the best part.

Third is me putting a baby in that soft young belly. And after that, I’ll steal her away from all of this. Fuck the medical code of conduct, forget professionalism, and damn the consequences.

Oh, Ada can bear children alright.

…so long as they’re mine.

I know what you’re thinking – this sounds like dirty, filthy doctor-fantasy smut. And if you’re thinking that, the good news is, you’re entirely correct ;). This book is hot and heavy insta-love and lust at it’s finest, with a dominant alpha hero completely obsessed with breeding and claiming his untouched heroine. Safe, no cheating, and a HEA guaranteed.

The doctor will see you take you now…

Chapter One

Ada

The elevator dinged, and my heart raced as I shivered.

I’d arrived.

The doors slid open, and I could feel my breath catching as I stepped out into the reception area of the clinic, my teeth chewing my bottom lip as I approached the check-in desk.

This was all wrong. You weren’t supposed to have thoughts like this about men like him. You weren’t supposed to walk into an office like this and get wet.

…Your weren’t supposed to have filthy, dirty, unstoppable fantasies about your doctor.

But then, if it was so wrong, why hadn’t I been able to stop thinking about him? Why had I spent every single second since that first time a week before burning the thought of him into my mind. I’d spent hours remembering the feel of his powerful, commanding hands on me, and the way his deep, low voice had struck something primal inside of me.

…And I’d spent every night trembling in my bed as my fingers and my fantasies wondered what could have happened, if there’d been more.

“Ms. Chase?”

I blinked, my dirty thoughts scattering as I looked down at the receptionist arched brow and bemused expression.

“Everything all right, dear?”

No, I have an uncontrollable crush and the dirtiest thoughts I’ve ever had about one of your physicians.

“Oh, yes,” I said quickly, swallowing the heat from my face.

“I said you can go right in. Dr. Petite will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you.”

I said it fast, my hands tightening to nervous fists at my sides as I marched past her desk, through the big wooden double-doors, and down the hallway to the exam rooms.

Doctor Petite was not my forbidden fantasy, and thank God for that. No, those were reserved for the gorgeous, intensely sexy, hardened, panty-meltingly perfect Doctor Brody.

Doctor Jackson Brody.

Seeing him on my last visit a week before had been a mistake. And I don’t mean that like “because I regretted it” I mean that quite literally. Someone had messed up some of the doctors’ schedules, and instead of Doctor Petite, it was him who I’d had the appointment with. It’d started innocently, and I knew that the entire thing was probably in my head.

But it made no difference.

Jackson Brody — God he was gorgeous. Tall, broad shoulders, and built like a freaking Greek statue. That dark hair, like mine, and those piercing dark eyes — different from my crystal blue ones.

Those powerful, warm hands, and the way he’d touched me.

I shivered as I paused at door to Doctor Petite’s exam room.

This was ridiculous. Doctor Brody was just that, a doctor, and this was me being, well, weird. I shouldn’t have been fantasizing about my doctor. I mean, it was bad enough what happened before, during the last exam. He hadn't said anything though.

…I hope he hadn't noticed, well…that.

God I hope he hadn't.

But thankfully, even if part of me wished I was, I wasn’t seeing him today. And I probably wouldn’t ever. The scheduling issue had been fixed, and it would be pudgy, grey-haired, sixty-year-old Doctor Petite who would be examining me today to make sure I was fertile.

Yes, I did actually just say that.

I was nineteen years old, I’d barely ever even been kissed, and I was in the most expensive fertility clinic in New York City to make sure I could pop babies out.

If you want to know why, the short answer was: “because my family is insane.”

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Her Irish Twins Read online Madison Faye http://www.ilovenovels.com/her-irish-twins-read-online-madison-faye Sat, 11 May 2019 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/her-irish-twins-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Advertisement

Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Her Irish Twins
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
Book Information:
Being with them is dangerous. Picking between them is impossible. Lucky for me, this St. Patrick’s Day, I don’t think I’ll have to. …Because I’ll have two. My sister is missing, and the Irish Syndicate might be involved. But when I start poking around where I shouldn’t, they’re sent to keep an eye on me. Rough, dominant, gorgeous, and there’s two of them—twins. Well, Irish twins, technically. But trust me, they’re exactly the same. Every inch of them. Straight from the dangerous streets of Dublin, the two enforcers are supposed to watch me, to keep tabs on me, and to take me if need be. But there’re far more dangerous monsters out there. And when the Russian Bratva comes after me, it’s my twin Irish alphas that come barging in to save me. Save me, take me, and steal my breath away. The two huge, gorgeous Irishmen are impossible to deny, impossible to say no to, and impossible to choose between. Luckily, I don’t think I’ll have to… Brothers should “share” like this. Good girls shouldn’t give in like this. …But maybe I’m less of a good girl than I think I am. This mfm romance is all about her – no m/m. As with all my books, this standalone novella is safe, with no cheating, and a HEA guaranteed.
Books by Author:	Madison Faye

Chapter One

Gavin

She undoes the top button of her blouse, and my pulse starts to quicken. The next one follows suit, and my jaw tightens. I watch as her delicate fingers trace lower, popping button after button until she peels the shirt off her smooth shoulders and arms, and lets it drop to the floor, revealing her lacy white bra. Fuck me, and the damn thing is so thin and sheer that I can see her fucking nipples through the lace.

Shit, this is going to be a problem.

Next to me, Ben growls, and I glance at my brother to see the same tight look of raw heat and lust etched on his own face before I look back to her. On the screen, she stretches, raising her hands above her pretty blonde head and arching her back, which only makes those full breasts of hers strain against the bra. She rolls her neck before she puts her hands behind her, and the bra drops away.

Ben groans.

So do I.

Fuck, those nipples are goddamn perfection—soft, pink, puffy, and fucking begging for my mouth around one of them. And hell, Ben’s around the other. Charlotte stretches again before she walks out of view, and through the speakers, we can hear the sound of the shower running. She steps back into the room, and her hands move to her jeans. She pops the button and tugs down her zipper, and this time both of us groan at the same time as she peels the skin-tight denim down her long, creamy legs.

She kicks and steps out of them, and then without any hesitation, she slips her thumbs into her lacy white panties and slips them down as well.

Aww fuck.

I suck in a breath of air at the sight of her smooth little pussy nestled between her thighs. Ben groans deeply, and when I glance at him again, I can see his body tightening and muscles clenching just like mine.

Yeah, this is a big, big problem.

On the surface, this should be easy: keep an eye on the target, monitor movements, make note of any outside contacts, and then react accordingly. Obviously, the job is slightly more complex than that—more nuanced, I guess—or else any old goons from this side of the pond could have done it. But instead, the Kings shipped Ben and I over for it.

Like I said, this job is nuanced, which is why it’s us two over here direct from the Irish Kings in Dublin to monitor the situation. And the situation is this: three weeks ago, one of our men over here, Ash Delancey, disappeared. Ash is a Dublin lad too and was over here overseeing a transition of power in some of the crime circles who operate under our banner here in Boston. Normally, the Kings and the council back in Ireland stay the fuck out of the way things are run over here. But sometimes, things need correcting.

A year ago, two other mates of ours came over to do the same thing. Eamon and Clay were here on council orders to take out an underboss who’d way, way overstepped his bounds. The fucker had started running girls, which we as an organization do not do, and young ones at that. Too young. It needed dealing with, which is where Clay and Eamon stepped in.

As it happens, they also stepped into a world of shit getting mixed up with a girl they met during the whole thing—one who ended up being a fuckin’ CIA agent, at that. But somehow in all of that, they hung on to Phoebe—both of them. In fact, here we are a year later, and she’s back in Dublin with them.

Life is some crazy shit sometimes, isn’t it?

On the screen, our mark pads naked and gorgeous back into the bathroom. I don’t even have to say a thing before Ben growls and reaches for the remote. He flicks to another camera angle, this one right in the shower, and we both groan deeply as we watch her step in under the soft spray of water. Soapy hands slide over her body, cupping her full breasts before sliding down between her legs. I hiss, and my already rock-hard cock pulses and throbs in my jeans as she runs a hand over that pretty little cunt.

“Fuckin’ hell,” my brother groans.

I glance at him again, and grin when I see his hand rubbing his thick cock through the pair of boxers he’s wearing. Yeah, we’re cut from the same cloth, Ben and me. At times, we’ve been mistaken for twins, but in truth, Ben’s older by ten months.

…What can I say, our parents knew how to get busy. You can insert your own Irish Catholic joke here.

So, we’re not twins, just “Irish twins” that happen to look pretty damn identical. Identical enough that we used to have fun messing with our teachers at school, and later, even more fun showing up to dates with each other’s girlfriends and seeing how long it took them at the door to realize they were getting had. Of course, later, we found out there were girls out there who were only too happy to have the mostly identical brother show up, and happier still to keep him there once they figured it out.

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Filthy Bastard – Royal Bastards MC Read online Madison Faye http://www.ilovenovels.com/filthy-bastard-royal-bastards-mc-read-online-madison-faye Mon, 11 Feb 2019 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/filthy-bastard-royal-bastards-mc-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Advertisement

Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 37123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Filthy Bastard - Royal Bastards MC
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
Book Information:
Stealing her was never part of the plan. Now keeping her is my only obsession. There’s no reason our worlds should have ever mixed. She’s an angel, I’m a f-ing beast—a rebel, an outlaw, a Bastard. I was born on the blood-soaked streets of Belfast, and reborn again on equally bloody ones of Boston. But Nicole’s my addiction, my everything—my red-haired, blue-eyed, freckled skin, killer-curved obsession. And I’ve been watching her for months—hungry, hard, and aching for her. It’s her father I’m supposed to take. The crooked, mob-bought Boston District Attorney has been pinning the crimes of his masters on my brothers. I was supposed to take him, to teach him a lesson. Except, he’s not there when I come calling. But she is. Like I said, our worlds should’ve never mixed—the innocent, brilliant, pre-law college girl and the filthy-talking rough and tumble biker. But now, they’re forever tangled. Because now that I’ve gotten my filthy hands on my firecracker of a captive, and gotten a taste of those sweet lips and smart sass, there’s no damn way I’m letting her go. The mob wants to kill us both. There’s betrayal in my own ranks. It’s us against the world. The thing is, they want Nicole? They’re going to have to come through me. And if they want to try that, they better bring a damn army. From captive to my Queen. Nicole’s mine, and I’ll never let her go. This is a standalone book in the Royal Bastards MC universe. As with all my books, this one is safe, with no cheating, and a HEA guaranteed. Happy reading!
Books by Author:	Madison Faye

Chapter One

Killian

My hand tightens, and my cock throbs. The lacy material of the tiny pink thong rubs up and down my length, and I growl like a fuckin’ animal. My balls ache for release and my teeth grind as I stroke my thickness with her panties.

Yeah, I’m a filthy bastard. Sue me.

To be fair, it’s not like this is an everyday thing for me. I’m not running around town stealing panties to jerk off with uncontrollably like a fuckin’ degenerate. I mean, yeah, you could make a strong case that I am a bit of a degenerate, but not typically this way, at least.

No, I’m just a filthy bastard.

The filthy part is my nickname with some of my brothers—again, not for my current situation of jerking my fat cock into a college girl’s pink thong. But because I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty. I’m the one you call when the shit has officially hit the fan—the guy that makes the mess go away when that mess is gonna land one of our own in jail.

The bastard part? Well, that’s ‘cause I am one—a Bastard, that is. Not in like in some stupid medieval way where my dad fucked a barmaid while his queen was away or some shit. I mean I’m a Bastard as in it’s the patch I wear.

I’m a Royal Bastard, Boston, Massachusetts chapter. But at the current moment? Well at the current moment, maybe I’m just a degenerate. But that ain’t my fault.

It’s hers.

I growl, picturing the sweet little body these panties were pulled tight against not ten minutes ago. Fuck, it’s almost like they’re still warm with the heat of her little pussy. I grunt, my cock throbbing at the thought, and when I hear the soft humming sound of a song from behind the closed bathroom door, my pulse quickens.

It’s almost time.

This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. No, I don’t mean the fuckin’ panties. I mean her. She’s not who I’ve come for tonight. In fact, she’s not even supposed to be here.

And yet, here we are.

Her name is Nicole Keen. She’s twenty-two, and a senior at Columbia University, majoring in pre-law and looking at Ivy League law schools for next fall. But more than that, she’s tall and lithe, with red hair that gets my blood roaring, blue eyes that make me lose my fucking mind, fair skin and freckles that make my balls swell with cum, and a body that sends me fucking reeling.

I’ve spent a month researching every fucking facet of my target—my real, planned target, that is. But the best damn part of that research was her—a long fucking month of biding my time, and watching, and learning, until I know her inside and out. A month of slowly becoming obsessed with her. And “obsessed” is what I am. Addicted, like a fuckin’ junky.

And there’s no cure for this.

Her name is Nicole Keen, and she’s pure, off limits temptation. And tonight, she’s all fucking mine.

She’s an innocent in all of this, but circumstances have made her front and center in this whole fucking thing. In another timeline, in a parallel universe, she stays an innocent bystander in this mess. In another version of this life, Nicole is just another—albeit gorgeous and impossibly sexy—college girl. She does her thing, goes to class, probably dates a shithead, and goes right on living without me or my ilk entering her world.

But this ain’t that version. This is the here and now, and here, tonight, the sins of the father land at her feet.

Like I said, it’s Leonard we’re really after. That’s her father, as in “Boston District Attorney Leonard Keen”—a weaselly little shit-stain of a man, if you can even call him that much. And I don’t.

Now, to be clear, me and mine aren’t exactly angels. The Royal Bastards are as rough, wild, and untamed as they come. Men with chips on their shoulders, a gun at their hip, and a fierce loyalty to patch, club, and brotherhood. We’re not into the shit some clubs are into—there’s no girls, for instance. None of that fucked up sexual slavery shit, or hookers, or any of that. Fuck that shit.

But like I said, we’re no saints. But the shit that Leonard’s putting on us after he decided to go to war with the Royal Bastards a year ago is bullshit. No, my brothers who are rotting in Walpole Correctional Facility or languishing in county waiting for bullshit trials are being fucked. Five members in the last year alone brought in on fucking lies has all but decimated our chapter, too. But that ends tonight.

See, Leo’s in the very, very deep pockets of the Boston Italian mob. Compared to those fuckers, we’re a blip on the damn radar. But we’ve been expanding business and enterprises, and it’s starting to rub those wannabe Goodfellas the wrong damn way. Problem is, when you rub some everyday shithead the wrong way, push comes to shove, you just need to beat him down. But this time, the Bastards have pissed off the wrong people, and now they’re coming for us, piece by piece, using a crooked county DA to lock us up for their own crimes.

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Breathless Read online Madison Faye (Winchester Academy #6) http://www.ilovenovels.com/breathless-6-read-online-madison-faye Fri, 10 Aug 2018 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/breathless-6-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Series: Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
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Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 48306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Breathless (Winchester Academy #6)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
Book Information:
The first kiss I stole. The second, he claimed. This is forbidden. This is taboo. And this is a scandal that could drown us both. My name is Waverly Owens, and I’m in love with my high school swim coach. I’ve got a crush. He’s gorgeous and brooding, with arms that make my knees week, abs that make me forget how to breath, and good lord does he fill out a swimsuit in all the right ways. The only problem? He’s ten years older, my mother is his boss, and, oh right, he’s my high school swim coach. Yeah. Camden Kirby is what you might call “x-rated” hot. He’s too gorgeous—certainly too gorgeous to be coaching girls high school swimming. Crushing on my coach is one thing. But when I end up creating a fake dating app profile specifically to, well, secretly seduce him? Well, now we’re playing in the deep end. There’s too much at stake for us to be this reckless, but once we’ve crossed that line, there’s no swimming back, no matter how wrong this is. I’ve got homework and college apps, he’s got demons, and scars. I’m in over my head, but I want to drown in him. I want to lose myself in him. This is a story love, lust, and diving in head-first. …You better take a deep breath. Each of the Winchester Academy books are completely standalone stories, with no cliffhangers. As with all my books, this one is safe, with no cheating, and a HEA guaranteed.
Books in Series:	Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
Books by Author:	Madison Faye Books

1

Waverly

“Okay, that shit is X-fucking-rated, I swear.”

Sasha sucks on her teeth and shakes her head, her eyes looking over my shoulder as she bends over all the way to her toe. I’m facing her in the same pose—legs spread, back arched, and my hands sliding down my ankles to hold my feet—but I ease off to turn and follow her gaze.

And instantly, hot, burning heat flashes over my face and down my chest under my suit. I quickly turn back, swallowing thickly as I slide back into the stretch. But I know damn well what I just saw, just like I know I’m going to be thinking about it—no, obsessing over it—for the rest of the day. And week. And probably months.

Like I always do about him.

But this time, instead of turning around to gawk and stare and, well, lust like I typically do when it comes to Camden Kirby, I force myself back into the stretch, my typically sore muscles aching in preparation for the coming practice. Sasha giggles.

“Oh, come on. You know, never having been laid doesn’t have to mean prude. You can look, you know.”

I roll my eyes in an attempt to wave her off, but she’s not having it.

“No, Waverly, just look at him!”

“I know what he looks like!” I say with a forced laugh that I hope to God covers that burning heat on my face.

“Whatever.”

My friend sighs and shakes her head at me before glancing over at Brynn, who’s also stretching.

“Back me up here.”

Brynn smiles a shy smile, shrugging. “I dunno. I mean, yeah, he’s hot.”

Hot does not even BEGIN to cover it. In fact, I’m not entirely sure there are the right words in the English language to describe how gorgeous the man Sasha is ogling is.

“My God, Waverly, will you just look?”

I know I shouldn’t. I know nothing good can from looking at him—and God forbid he sees me looking at him, today of all days. In fact, after last night, I don’t even know how the fuck I’m even at practice right now.

“Sasha—”

“Oh helll-lo!”

She grins, her eyes firmly over my shoulder. And just like that, I cave. I turn, and there he is.

Okay, that shit is X-fucking-rated.

I want to open my mouth to say something—maybe to tell Sasha to quit being weird and concentrate on warming up or something. But then, I’m just as guilty as she is. At least, my eyes sure as hell are. I feel the heat spread over my face as I watch him slide from the pool—muscles clenching and glistening as he grips the handrails to the ladder. His abs ripple like freaking liquid steel, and the huge tattoo covering the massive scars on his back rolls with his strength as he climbs out. Water streams down his body, running in rivulets over his muscles, his arms flexing as he raises them to push his hair back from his face.

I mean seriously. It’s seriously like a live-action, pool version of Magic Mike, and every single girl at practice knows it.

He turns, shoving his fingers from one hand through his hair, and when my eyes slide back down his body, my face instantly burns intensely, along with the fluttery feeling of the forbidden that teases through my core. His hand slides down his abs, his finger tugging at the waist of his black, skin-tight swimmer’s shorts—not board shorts or anything baggy like guys my age might wear to the beach or something. No, he looks like a freaking pinnacle athlete—all sleek, toned, gorgeous, muscled, and…

I swallow thickly my face tingling with heat.

“I mean that bulge!”

I giggle at Sasha, but it’s just to cover my own lusty looks as I turn back.

“Okay, stop it,” I chide without any real feeling behind it. “We need to warm up.”

Except my words fall flat as I turn and just keep staring right alongside Sasha and Brynn. At him.

“Him,” by the way, is Camden Kirby, our swim coach at Winchester Academy. Our crazy-hot, impossibly perfect, completely captivating, ten-years-my-senior-and-totally-off-limits swim coach, at that.

“If Jason Momoa, Tom Hardy, and Camden Kirby were in a room with me, and I could only fuck two of them,” Sasha says with a hungry smile. “I would fuck Coach Kirby, twice.”

Brynn giggles and I roll my eyes, my cheeks burning.

“Okay, stop it.”

I’m trying to laugh alongside them, because I know they’re just having fun. But, it’s a little hard to “just have fun” or “just pretend” when it comes to Coach Kirby.

Not after last night.

Sasha gives me a look as she eases off her stretch and tucks one leg under and back to stretch her hamstrings. She’s wearing a new blue and silver one-piece suit that looks fantastic on her, and I’m about to try and change the subject by trying to get her to fess up where she bought it, but she bulldozes right on ahead.

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Barely Read online Madison Faye (Winchester Academy #7) http://www.ilovenovels.com/barely-7-read-online-madison-faye Fri, 10 Aug 2018 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/barely-7-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Series: Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
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Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 44127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Barely (Winchester Academy #7)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
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Off limits, forbidden, twenty years my junior… And in way over her head. She needs saving. I need to keep away. But one taste of those sweet, innocent lips, and I’ll fight like hell to keep her safe. I had no business looking at her like that. No business wanting her, craving her—the caveman in me roaring to claim and take. Of course, that was before I realized who the girl in the mask grinding on my lap was. Her name is Brynn Henley. She’s eighteen—barely—and one of my students at the private high school where I’m Principal. She’s out-of-bounds, but then, she’s also out of time and out of choices. Some bad, bad people want her for themselves. They want to take her from me, and hurt her, all to settle a debt to the mob her father owes. …They’re going to have to come through me first. I have no business with a girl like her. Too innocent, too untouched, too barely legal. But I’ve had a taste, and now, I’ll have the rest. This forbidden heat could engulf and burn us both. But the mob made a mistake. They came after what’s mine. …And nothing is going to take her away from me.
Books in Series:	Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
Books by Author:	Madison Faye Books

1

Colton

She looks like heaven and moves like sin. Soft, sultry music pulses like a lover’s touch over the club’s sound system, and under the sensual blue and pink lights, and through a fog of fake smoke, her hips sway as her hands slide up to grip the pole tightly.

And there’s something about her that has all of my attention.

Yes, you could assume it’s that she’s wearing next to nothing—just this sky-blue, lacy, basically see-through bra and thong panties that hug every single part of her perfectly sculpted body like they were painted on. You could say it’s that she’s grinding her hips and sliding her hands over her body in a way that’s designed to get a guy like me hard.

But it’s… it’s hard to explain, but it’s more than that.

For one, she’s no pro, that’s pretty easy to see. In fact, I’d almost say she looks nervous, even though there’s not really a ton of people in here tonight, and even though she’s wearing a black masquerade mask that totally obscures who she is. Her moves aren’t practiced, either. It’s like she just got done watching a how-to video of “dancing sexy,” and this is her first time trying to remember how to do it.

Secondly, strip clubs are not my scene. Not by a fucking mile. Maybe it’s that I just see through the bullshit that they are? There are guys who walk into a strip club and swallow that fantasy pill whole. The girl is “totally into them,” and she “totally just gave them her real name. No, really, bro.”

You know the type. But me? Nah, I’m not that type. I see through the illusion. Or maybe it’s just that a woman hasn’t turned my head—stripper or otherwise—in years.

Several, several years.

But in any case, with both of the reasons there, here I am just fucking staring at her. Mesmerized, hooked. Like the animal inside of me that I’ve kept chained up finally has the scent of prey hitting its nostrils for the first time in far too long. And now it’s fucking starving.

There’s the taste of overpriced mid-level whiskey on my tongue, the faint scent of cigar smoke wafting through the air. And around me, Dan and the rest of my “buddies” are cavorting around, knocking back shots, cat-calling girls, and generally doing exactly what you’d expect of a bachelor party of thirty-to-forty-year-old guys to be doing in a strip club.

But not me. I just watch, my pulse thumping in my neck and my muscles clenching and unclenching as my eyes follow her every move.

“Bro!”

I’m startled from my thoughts by two sweaty palms slapping my shoulders from behind. And that’s saying something, because I never startle. I glance over my shoulder at the man of the hour, Dan, my old college roommate from what feels like a lifetime ago. A life before war. Before I met death and chaos. A life before the Special Forces.

My old life.

“Hey, man,” I force a smile. “Having a good time?”

“I’m having a fucking awesome time, man!”

Hey, it’s not my jam, but to each his own, I suppose.

“Great, buddy. Listen, thanks for the invite. I know it’s been a wh—”

“Bro, have you checked out the tits on that Asian chick over there?”

I’ve changed a lot in twenty years. Dan has not.

“Must have missed that,” I growl, rolling my eyes as I look away and take another sip of the twenty-dollar pour of Maker’s Mark in my glass.

Dan chuckles. “Guess you were distracted.”

“Hmm?”

He grins and nods at the stage I’ve been staring at, and there she is, still dancing. Still utterly captivating me.

“Dude, she is so fuckable.”

My jaw clenches tight. Very, very tight. About as tight as my fist on the glass of whiskey, which feels like it might shatter any second. I understand the place I’m in. And I understand what her job is. But the idea of anyone—of any man at all—looking at her like that, or thinking of her like that, has my blood boiling.

“Take it easy,” I growl, instead of smashing my glass over his head or throwing him across the room.

Dan just laughs. “Hey, it’s cool man, it’s cool. You saw her first, huh?”

He grins, and in the spirit of where I am, and allowing that Dan is wasted, and further allowing that in all likelihood, the wedding next month will be the last time I ever see Dan, I force a smile back.

“Sure.”

He smiles. “Well, shit man, go get a dance.”

“I’m not really into—”

“Nope! Not taking no for an answer, bro! It’s my bachelor party, and if you want her, she’s yours, man.”

The growl rumbles in my throat, but he can’t hear it over the music. The music suddenly switches songs, and when I glance back at the stage, she’s walking off of it.

Fuck.

My eyes scan the room, but she’s gone, and I shake my head. The fuck was I thinking anyways?

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Banned Read online Madison Faye (Winchester Academy #4) http://www.ilovenovels.com/banned-read-online-madison-faye-winchester-academy-4 Wed, 25 Jul 2018 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/banned-read-online-madison-faye-winchester-academy-4 Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Series: Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
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Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Banned (Winchester Academy #4)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	1230003440742
Book Information:
What happens when the school’s quirkiest band geek starts a rock band with three of the hottest guys in varsity football royalty? Well, pretty soon, I’m not just “with” the band. I’m with the band. The whole band… What could possibly go wrong? You know, besides everything. They’re panty-meltingly gorgeous, cocky, and three of the biggest stars on the varsity football team. I’m the dorkiest, tuba-playing music-geek this side of band camp. In a school full of rules and clichés, Anders Teller, Griffin Reeves, Carson Lafayette and I have nothing to do with each other. Except, I’m about to have everything to do with them. With all of them. They’re the last thing I expect when I sneak off campus after curfew to audition for an up-and-coming rock band. Neither is finding them mostly naked when I show up, or falling—yes, literally falling—into their arms… Everyone says to keep clear of crazy-hot musicians. They say the same thing about totally beautiful, ridiculously tempting football jocks, too. So what’s a girl to do when she comes across a stupid-hot combination of both? There’s three of them, and one of me. And before long, it’s not just the practice room that’s rocking and rolling… One never-been-touched nerd, three huge, utterly tempting jocks, and three whispered words that make my toes curl: “we’re gonna share.” As The Bard says, if music be the food of love, play on. Well, something tells me we’re about to play all night. Each of the Winchester Academy books are completely standalone stories, with no cliffhangers. This mfmm romance is all about her - no m/m. Safe, no cheating, and a HEA guaranteed.
Books in Series:	Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
Books by Author:	Madison Faye Books

1

Zara

This is a really, really stupid idea.

The words tumble through my head for maybe the eleven-thousandth time as I duck behind the bushes and creep forward under the window to the campus security office. The hard-shell guitar case in my hand bangs against my shin, and I wince in pain, but I keep going. This might be my first time sneaking off campus, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t understand that the first rule of sneaking off campus is don’t get caught sneaking off campus.

Especially not tonight. Not with what’s at stake for me.

I move quickly, panting, my heart racing as I scurry across a dark stretch of the campus quad and into a thicket of trees. Winchester really is beautiful at night, with the manicured gardens and grounds, the ancient stone walls, and the gorgeous Tudor-style buildings. It’s like sneaking around Hogwarts or something. Except it’s not a magic wand or broomstick in my hand, it’s a guitar. Because tonight, I’m going to my first ever audition for a real, live band.

Real enough and exciting enough to give me the balls to sneak off of my boarding school campus, after curfew, on a school night. I should mention that for a complete and utter band nerd like myself, whose never once gone to a party, or broken curfew, or broken really any rule at Winchester, this is wildly and completely out of character.

But, it’s worth it. Even if it’s dangerously stupid. I mean, this is my dream, and even if the orchestra, and the pep band, and the jazz band I play in at school here are great and challenging in their own rights, the opportunity to play in a real rock band, with gigs lined up and even an opportunity to compete in the Rockland county Battle of the Bands next month, is too good to say no to.

And tonight, I am not saying no to it.

Tonight took planning, too. I mean you don’t just decide to sneak off of the Winchester campus one day having never done it before. It took time to figure out when my dorm’s head resident would be back in her own room and not prowling the halls. It took time to figure out where the maintenance guy keeps the spare key for the laundry room exit door in the basement, the one that leads out to the maintenance dock and dumpsters behind my dorm hall. And, it took time to scope out the big wrought-iron fence that surrounds Winchester and discover the old side-entrance behind the campus security office. It took perfect timing to wait until the end of the football game tonight before changing, grabbing my stuff, and making my daring escape, seeing as I play tuba in the marching pep band that played tonight.

Tonight, the gate squeaks, but it’s a quiet squeak, thanks to the olive oil I snuck out of the dining hall at lunch and dumped over the rusty hinges earlier. I slip through, shutting it behind me and shivering with excitement as I realize I’m outside the grounds now. I glance down the street, and my pulse quickens as I spot the headlights of the cab, I just ordered fifteen minutes ago, waiting right where I asked it to.

I glance one more time back at the fence, and the campus behind it, take a deep breath, and start hustling for the cab. The stiletto heels of my thigh-high boots strike loudly on the quiet sidewalk, and as I near the cab and notice the cab driver leering at me, I’m made very much aware of just how short my skirt is. Or how skimpy my purposefully torn AC/DC tank top is. To say nothing of the scandalously sexy pair of black thong panties I’m wearing. I blush when I think of slipping those on earlier. I mean it’s not like I’m that girl. I’m not going to an audition and like, taking my freaking clothes off or anything, no matter how insane an opportunity it is. But they make me feel sexy, and confident, and I need both of those things tonight.

Obviously, none of this outfit is dress-code appropriate for Winchester. And quite honestly, this skirt would even probably warrant a stern talking-to from the resident advisor or other faculty even if I wore it outside of classroom hours on the weekend. But tonight, this is me. This is my look, I mean, I’m sneaking off my high school campus to audition for a rock and roll band.

…Gotta look the part, right?

The driver doesn’t seem to give too much of a shit that I’ve pretty clearly just slipped out a side entrance of a private boarding high school. Well, first he tells me I have to be eighteen to ride alone in a cab, but he only gives my ID the briefest glance before he grunts and puts the car into drive. We roar through the night, through downtown Southworth and over into Rivington next door, where my audition is at. I shiver as I look out into the night, my hands gripping my bag and my guitar case tightly.

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Bully Read online Madison Faye (Winchester Academy #5) http://www.ilovenovels.com/bully-5-read-online-madison-faye Wed, 25 Jul 2018 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/bully-5-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Series: Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
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Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Bully (Winchester Academy #5)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
Book Information:
This is a story of lust. This is a story of playing with fire. But mostly, it’s just the story of us. …buckle up. Forbidden. Tempting. Magnetic. Illicit. Jamison Scott is many things, including my tormentor, my nemesis, and my sworn enemy. Unfortunately, he’s also the only man I’ve ever wanted. Oh, right, he’s also about to be my new stepbrother. Years ago, it was pulling my hair and putting frogs in my lunch box. But now, the little boy from down the street is all grown up. Big, strong, gorgeous, and undeniably captivating. Now he’s living down the hall, smirking at me across the breakfast table, and invading my every dark, toe-curlingly forbidden thought. I want to hate him, and I should hate him. But instead, I just want him. Horribly so. Achingly so. His illicit touch makes me scream, and his forbidden, filthy words in my ears take my breath away. I shouldn’t crave him like this. I shouldn’t get all tingly whenever he growls my name. He’s the firestorm I never saw coming, and if we’re not careful, we’ll both get burned. I can do without the frogs in my lunch, but thirteen years later? …Well, something tells me I might just like it if Jamison Scott pulled my hair this time.
Books in Series:	Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
Books by Author:	Madison Faye Books

1

Ramona

I flick the light switch on in my room, and instantly, I shriek.

Dicks. Dicks as in penises, and they’re everywhere. The gym bag with my stuff from cheer practice drops to my feet as my jaw about hits the floor. My hand is basically stuck to the light switch as I just stand there in the doorway, my eyes scanning the room.

The full-color printouts are seriously all-fucking-over the place—taped to my walls, hanging from strings tied to the goddamn light fixtures. They’re taped to the curtains and posts of my canopy bed, covering my freaking windows, and scattered like x-rated confetti across the floor. There’s even a damn chain of them, like Tibetan prayer flags, strung from one wall to the opposite one—like a perverted Buddhist shrine to male anatomy.

I purse my lips as my face goes hot, my hands closing to fists as my brows knit. There’s only one person who could do this, of course.

Jamison.

That prick. I mutter swears to myself as I whirl, my pulse racing as I march down the hall to one of the back staircases. I’m not new to Jamison Scott’s juvenile bullshit, or his incessant need to tease me, or taunt me, or bully me around in that smug-smiled, infuriating way that he’s done since we were fucking five. What I am new to, is it happening in my fucking house.

A shadow hangs over my face as I storm down the stairs and then down the hallway towards the other staircase that will take me down to the garage, where I’m sure he’s working on his stupid car.

No, I’m not used to him being in my freaking house—living here, being around me always, smirking at me across the breakfast table and being there when I get home from school or practice. Because this is all new.

When we were five, it was a matter of trying to ignore him and going on with my day, at the end of which, I could go home and leave Jamison Scott and his teasing and taunting in the kindergarten room, or later elementary school, or junior high. And then at the very beginning of sophomore year, the Scott brothers and their dad moved seven-hundred-and-fifty-eight miles away to South Carolina, and I was free of Jamison and his incessant antics.

…Or so I thought. Because nine months ago, my mother decided to casually drop that she’d been seeing Bobby Scott long-distance for a number of months. And then six months ago, over dinner, she dropped the little bombshell that he’d be moving into our house.

Why?

Oh, because my mother is going to be marrying the father of my childhood tormentor. Right, and it goes without saying, Bobby Scott moving into our home meant Jamison was going to come too.

Infuriatingly cocky, obnoxiously charming, unfairly hot Jamison Scott.

…My soon-to-be stepbrother.

I scowl, shoving those thoughts away as I thunder down the last staircase and slam open the side door to the five-car garage.

“Jamison!”

I plant my hands on my hips, a scowl on my face as I glance around the room, my eyes narrowing as I look for him.

Where the fuck is—

“Moaner.”

I gasp, and in spite of everything—in spite of the years of teasing, an taunting, and going out of his fucking way to be a royal dick to me every goddamn chance he got, I shiver at the sound of Jamison’s voice in my ear, from behind me.

And therein, as they say, lies the rub. There’s the worst fucking part of all of it. It’s not that Jamison Scott is a prick. It’s not that him moving back to Southworth totally fucks with my senior year. And it’s not even that is father marrying my mom is going to mean we’re stuck together for pretty much forever. It’s that deep down, underneath the scowls I throw his way, and the flippant way I tell him off, or the prim way I ignore him when he’s trying to get under my skin, or the way I tell myself how much I hate him?

…Deep down, I know I don’t hate him at all.

Deep down, part of me—a very sick, very shameful part of me—wants him.

I shiver at the sound of his voice in my ear, even if he’s calling me by that nickname that I hate. I whirl, every intention of telling him off, but when I do, my breath catches, and my words fail me.

He’s shirtless. Goddamnit, why is he shirtless? And yeah, this would be one of the reasons that despite my total disdain for Jamison, that dark, secret part of me aches for him in this fucked up way. Because Jamison Scott is freaking gorgeous.

He was hot when he moved away those years before. He came back downright sinful. He came back as sex on a fucking stick. He left a cute guy, and he came back a stupid-hot man. Muscles for days, and tattoo ink swirling up and down both arms and across his chest. Dark hair, piercing dark eyes, and that infuriatingly cocky grin that does all sorts of things to a girl. I swallow, telling myself on repeat to stop staring at his abs before I finally manage to drag my eyes up to his and force myself to scowl.

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