Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Wed, 20 May 2026 17:53:56 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 His Missing Ingredient Read Online Jessa Kane http://www.ilovenovels.com/his-missing-ingredient-read-online-jessa-kane Wed, 20 May 2026 17:53:56 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/his-missing-ingredient-read-online-jessa-kane Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Jessa Kane Advertisement

Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)

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Chef Draven is known as a tyrant in the kitchen, but when the new dishwasher arrives, he finds himself spellbound by Claire’s beauty. She’s young, brave, in need of a guardian…and obviously running from something. At first touch, he’s vowing to protect her from all harm and proclaiming himself as her man. She’s his now. But there’s something different about his girl. Her very presence, and a unique spice all her own, cause his cooking to improve to the point of inciting riots outside the restaurant. Could she be the missing ingredient he’s been looking for all his life?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Claire

“What are you qualified for?” asks Pierre, the impatient man interviewing me.

Good question.

As a girl who just left home in the middle of the night with a suitcase of clothes and her freshly printed high school diploma, I haven’t exactly spent much time in the workforce. But I knew making money would be the hardest part of setting out on my own, didn’t I?

I can’t afford to get intimidated now.

My feet are sore from pounding the pavement all day. No restaurants are hiring. This fancy bistro called Tartine is my final hope for a second job. I’ve already secured one waitressing position at a nightclub a few blocks away, but they were only able to guarantee me two shifts per week. I’m going to need a lot more income if I want to move out of the motel where I’m staying temporarily.

“I can waitress,” I say politely, hands clasped together tightly in my lap. “Actually, I’ve already been hired to work night shifts at Swet—”

“You’re going to work at Swet?” Pierre throws back his head with a rip of laughter, before eyeing me with nothing short of glee. “You’re going to get eaten alive.”

I hold my smile. “I’m tougher than I look.”

He adjusts his starched collar, looking dubious. “I’m guessing you haven’t seen the waitress uniform yet.”

My pulse jumps. He’s right. The manager at Swet gave me my uniform in a bag earlier. I simply haven’t had time to look at it yet. But I’m not going to let this man know that. “Like I said, I’m tougher than I look.”

With a derisive snort, Pierre leans back in his chair and gives my body a long, lazy once-over that makes my skin crawl. He’s in his early thirties, shaved head, meticulously groomed. If he wasn’t so rude, he might even be attractive. “You do have a very pretty face. Perhaps you have the attributes to match beneath that heavy coat?”

“I can wash dishes,” I blurt, hurriedly diverting his attention from my body. I haven’t removed my coat since my first interview of the day when a restaurant owner claimed I needed to show him my legs to determine if I qualified as a waitress. There has been a terrible feeling of subservience every time I’ve walked into a room alone with a man today. They all seem determined to flex their power and comment on my looks, which should be irrelevant, right? “Do you have an opening in the kitchen for dish washer?” I ask again, when he continues to peruse my body through my coat.

Reluctantly, he drags his eyes back up to my face. “As it happens, we do need someone to clean dishes. The last guy just quit. After one day.”

“Why?”

Pierre laughs. “My brother is the head chef. And he’s a complete asshole. That’s why.”

“Oh.” I shrug a shoulder. “Well, that doesn’t intimidate me. I lived with an asshole the first eighteen years of my life.” I slap a hand over my mouth when I realize I just said that out loud. “Sorry, I forgot I was in a job interview.”

“Well, well, well, she’s got some spunk.” He eyes me closer. “Running away from daddy, are you?”

I stay silent.

That’s none of this man’s business.

It’s nobody’s business but mine.

Pierre leans forward. “I guarantee you, my brother, Draven, is worse than whatever you’ve experienced. He gets away with it because he’s one of the most innovative French cuisine chefs in the Midwest. If you think you can handle him, sweetheart, you’re more than welcome to try.” He waves me off. “Come back tonight and I’ll throw you to the wolf. If nothing else, it’ll be entertaining.”

Relief fills my stomach. “Thank you, sir.”

Triumphant, I stand up, ignoring the way Pierre leers at me, his gaze burning me through the wool of my coat. Could his brother really be worse than him?

I guess I’ll find out tonight. But if Pierre thinks a cranky chef is enough to send me running, I can’t wait to prove him wrong.

My first impression of Draven is his shout echoing down the length of the stainless-steel kitchen and stopping me in my tracks. Frost forms on my skin, but I finish tying my apron at the small of my back and keep walking. When I arrived tonight, I was directed by a bored hostess to the employee locker room in the back of the restaurant where I found a note with my name on it taped to my locker, briefly explaining my duties.

Basically, the sink is my home for the next four hours.

First, I must clean up the lunchtime mess, plus the dishes used during dinner prep, after which I’ll be scrubbing soiled dishes on the fly for the duration of the evening.

No sweat.

I’ve been cleaning an entire household since kindergarten.

Thinking about how my father and stepmother must have reacted when they woke up to find me gone, I shiver all the way down to my toes.

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Innocent Captive Read Online Alexa Riley http://www.ilovenovels.com/innocent-captive-read-online-alexa-riley Wed, 20 May 2026 17:53:55 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/innocent-captive-read-online-alexa-riley Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Alexa Riley Advertisement

Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22327 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >24

Jema wakes up with no memory of where she is and worse, who she is. Everything seems perfect, including the man that claims to be her husband. The doctors tell her she has a little bump on the head and that she’ll remember everything soon. The only problem is she knows there are secrets being kept from her, and she’s determined to find out what they are.

Salvador Roven could never be mistaken for a good man. Kidnapping is probably low on the list of the bad things he’s done, but one look at Jema and he knows he can’t let her go. He’s playing a dangerous game, but all he has to do is make her fall in love with him before she gets her memories back. He’ll have to add a few more dark deeds to his list of sins, but Jema is worth risking it all.

When a mafia king brings home an innocent captive, what could possibly go wrong? Find out exactly how far he’s prepared to go to get his happily ever after

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

Jema

This time I’ve really done it because I’m not sure if I’m going to make it out alive. This is all Joey’s fault. When I find him, I’m going to strangle him. Unless he is already dead, which is highly likely given my current situation. What the hell did Joey get himself into?

How long will it take for anyone to realize I’m gone? The diner will think I quit. No one gives two weeks’ notice there. They simply stop coming back. Yeah, probably not a good idea to ponder those thoughts because they’re depressing and shouldn’t be my final ones.

Currently I’m having a stare-down with Salvador, the deadliest man in the city.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says, and his voice booms across the warehouse. It’s deep and slightly rough, which suits him. “Out here now,” he barks, making me jump.

I hurry forward and step out from behind the shadow of the shipping container where I’d been hiding. When I do, I glance toward the man tied to the chair. His head is lolled forward, and I can hear the sound of the blood dripping from his hands. I look away and do my best to keep my attention on Salvador, even though I’m terrified.

He’s taller than I thought he’d be with dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Or maybe it’s what has grown in throughout the day. His black button-down shirt is drawn tight against his broad chest.

“Farther,” he says, and I wonder how one word can be so heavy.

I swallow but don't move. My feet are planted, and I'm not sure they will work. They only worked a second ago because he scared me and it was a knee-jerk reaction.

“Why? You’re just going to kill me anyway.” Looks like I can still run my mouth, though. I have the worst self-control. At least there wasn’t a timid hitch in my voice showing how scared I truly am.

My rebellious streak is always getting me in trouble. At least that's what every foster home I’ve been in told me. But why should I do anything he asks? I’ve seen what he’s capable of.

Salvador is quiet for a long moment, and I notice his henchman, Marco, flick a glance toward his boss. I’m pretty sure we’re both wondering what he’s going to do next.

“It could be a quick death or a very slow and painful one,” Salvador says, and I swallow.

“Fine,” I mutter and force myself to take a step forward.

Marco mutters a string of words in Italian that I don’t understand while Salvador’s dark gaze sweeps over me from head to toe. There’s a flare in his eyes as they linger on my chest.

I'm sure it's my sweater. I like to go early to Goodwill so I can go through their bins before they sort them and find the good stuff. This sweater has a pigeonzilla on it. The bird is wreaking havoc throughout the city while standing on a smashed taxi with a giant pretzel in his wing.

“Why are you making this more difficult for yourself, little girl?”

“I’m not little. I’m vertically challenged,” I tell him, and I swear, Salvador almost smiles. There’s a quick twitch of his lips before it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

I might be short, but I’ve got hips for days. I blame it on the diner. If my shift is eight hours, then I get two meals, and I get to pick whatever I want off the menu. Growing up in the system, sometimes there wasn’t enough to go around, so it was whatever was on the table. Now I’m eating enough, but maybe not so healthily.

“Who are you working for?”

“Mick,” I tell him, and Salvador glances over to Marco, who shrugs.

“Who’s Mick?” He looks annoyed, and I don’t know why I like seeing it.

“He’s about five foot ten inches and chain smokes, but he makes a mean Reuben.”

“Reuben?” Salvador asks, but I’m not sure if that’s a real question.

“Just shoot her. I’m hungry, and I still need to clean this mess up.” Marco motions to the man in the chair. Guess that answers my question on if he’s dead or not. It also means that I’m most likely dead too.

“You take orders from him?” I ask Salvador as I nod toward Marco. I’m trying to instigate a fight between the two of them.

“I’m growing tired of your games,” Salvador says, and the edge of his voice has me answering him.

“Fine, a Reuben is a sandwich. It’s what Mick’s Diner is known for.”

Marco rubs his mouth with the palm of his hand, and I know he’s fighting a smile. At least I’m making myself believe that. If they kind of like me, maybe they won’t kill me.

“You know that was not what I meant. Who sent you here tonight?” This time it’s Salvador who takes a step toward me.

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Making Their Vows Read Online Lucy Darling http://www.ilovenovels.com/making-their-vows-read-online-lucy-darling Wed, 20 May 2026 17:52:54 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/making-their-vows-read-online-lucy-darling Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Lucy Darling Advertisement

Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >44

Laws and morals won’t stop me from having her. Nothing will.

Truly Adams won’t spend another day in a loveless marriage. She knew it was a marriage of convenience, but she hoped that maybe it would evolve into more. Blake always acted differently toward her than he did the rest of the world. He wasn’t cold and dismissive to Truly, not until after they said “I do.” That might have been the plan all along to get her to agree.

Blake Lockheart is counting down the days until he can finally have back the only woman he has and will only ever love. Except that day came a week early with her bursting into his office with divorce papers in hand. He made a deal with the devil to have her. There isn’t a chance in hell he’ll ever let Truly go. Even if it requires blackmail, he doesn’t care. Now he’ll become the devil if he has to. Because she was always meant to be Truly his.

This is dedicated to timeless love stories. It’s got all the tropes you desire, with all of my usual over-the-top alphas and sweetness

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

TRULY

In times of need, one must resort to extreme methods. I may have broken a handful of laws to get here, but I didn’t have much of an option. I used my best friend's passport to get where I needed to go. We bear a striking resemblance. I didn't want them to know I was coming. I'd likely be stopped, and I don’t have my own passport. It was taken years ago. That’s a story for another day.

Who knew it could be so hard to see your own husband? Then again, I didn’t even see him when we got married four years ago. It’s been even longer since I saw him last.

I was a young teen at the time, still in braces and unable to say more than a few words to the boy I’d thought was handsome. Long before I realized we would one day get married, I harbored a crush on my husband. It’s why I hadn’t fought the marriage to begin with. I was excited. I was still a silly, naïve girl with hearts in my eyes. I didn't see back then that I was being used by both his family and my own. Though they see it differently.

Honestly, there wasn’t much of a choice in it. My father basically told me we’d be married, but I was still to go off to college. I’d been accepted to Imperial Supérieure, a top all-girls college in Europe. All the schools I attended throughout my life were all-girls institutions.

My mother believed it made girls more confident when boys weren't around to muddle their minds. I don’t know if she truly believes that. She is rather Stepford, if I were to describe her. Then again, her marriage, too, was arranged.

I believed that in time Blake would come and see me. That he would call or even send simple messages. After the first year, I saw our marriage for what it was: a transaction between his father and mine. Two companies joining forces with Blake the protégé to take over. I didn’t reap any of the benefits of this merger. I’m sure they’d say otherwise. They might be right. My schooling was paid, and in a sense, I was a kept woman.

I was a mere afterthought that was forgotten about. I never had the opportunity to experience love because I had to keep up appearances. I had to remain faithful to a man that couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge my existence. While he is out there doing God knows what.

I'm sure at some point I'll be expected to be at his side. I’ve always assumed it would be after my schooling is done. Not that I’ll ever get to use my degree for anything useful. It will only ever be used to fluff up my status. No one cares what I want. I was never even asked for my input on my own life.

I'm over it. It's why I'm now standing outside of Blake’s shiny office building, divorce papers in hand. I'd pulled a few strings and was able to take my finals a little early, and I turned in the last of my projects and papers.

I am done, even though graduation is still weeks away. I knew getting out early was the only way I could slip through the fingers of those trying to keep me where they wanted me to be. They assumed I would continue to go along with them, controlling the direction of my life.

I tried to reach out. To have a conversation with Blake to discuss the future. I hadn't wanted it to come to this. I sent emails and called. All unanswered. I knew Blake wasn't dead. There have been articles about him and his work. Images of him attending various events have been published. He did wear his wedding band, and when asked about me, he'd probably change the subject because what could he say? He hasn't taken the time to get to know me, and now I would rather not get to know him either.

I'm leaving this elite world they live in. I don't care what I'm walking away from. I don't have a penny to my name, and I am not asking for any money in the divorce. All I want is my freedom. I want to move forward with my life and hopefully find love in the future. Thankfully I have a kickass best friend that is going to let me crash with her. She was the one to help me map out this plan.

I take a deep breath before I head inside. I hate how nauseous I am. I don't believe my mother took into account that being at an all-girls school could make you awkward when it came to the opposite sex. I have no idea what to expect from Blake, but I know there is no other option at this point. This has to be done.

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Bratva Beast’s Plain Jane Read Online Sam Crescent http://www.ilovenovels.com/bratva-beasts-plain-jane-read-online-sam-crescent Wed, 20 May 2026 17:52:14 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/bratva-beasts-plain-jane-read-online-sam-crescent Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Sam Crescent Advertisement

Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >34

Jane Adams was already having the worst night of her life. Fired for refusing her boss’s advances, she never expected to witness a brutal mafia attack—or save the life of a dangerous stranger.

Alexey Baranov should have died that night. Instead, a fearless woman stepped in and killed the son of a powerful mafia boss to protect him.
Now Vincent Morello wants Jane dead.
Alexey refuses to let that happen.
Jane has spent her whole life feeling unwanted, invisible, and forgotten. But with Alexey, she’s finally seen. Claimed. Protected.
And Alexey doesn’t give up what belongs to him.
Not even for a mafia war

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

“Shit, fuck, this is not good. Why did you do this, Jane? This is not clever of you. This is insane.” Jane Adams grunted as she started to pull the man toward her car. He let out a groan, and she growled. “Come on, I don’t know if there are going to be any more people looking for you.”

So, in the past thirty minutes, her life had gone from shit to fucking worse. All she had done was sit in her beat-up car as she attempted to deal with her boss’s ultimatum: she had to sleep with him or find another job.

“No offense, sweetheart, but not many people are going to be jumping for joy offering you a job. You’re not exactly easy on the eyes.”

His words, although cruel, didn’t hurt her. Not anymore. Growing up being a plain Jane, she was used to it. Men would look at her for a moment, but the instant a hot woman walked into the room, she was well and truly forgotten. Some might think it was cruel of them. She no longer cared.

Actually, she thought it was ironic seeing as she was also named “Jane” by the church where she had been dropped off when she was just a few days old. At least, that was what she assumed.

From the church, she was sent to foster care, and for the first eighteen years of her life, she got used to being overlooked. The parents that came to adopt kids were not looking for plain but extraordinary. She had gone from good foster homes to the worst kind, so tonight hadn’t exactly been a surprise to her—sitting in her car after losing her job, because she wasn’t about to fuck her boss to keep it. She had been punching out her steering wheel, when up ahead, a gunfight had broken out.

A car had been rammed, and then a couple of guys had gotten out, both dressed in suits. Armed with guns, they pointed them toward the man in the upturned car. One of the two was shot down.

Something in her gut told her to act. Maybe it was the boss pushing her into a corner, or the potential for the underdog, or she was just pissed off. Pressing on her accelerator, she literally ran the shooter down. To any other person, this might have been terrifying; however, this wasn’t the first time she had seen death. She pushed that to the back of her mind.

The guy in the car had managed to wriggle his way out, and she was pulling him into her car. His face was covered in blood. She refused to look at any of his tattoos or try to recognize him.

“Come on,” she said, growling, as she finally was able to drag his ass into the passenger seat of her car.

This was a big mistake. She had no idea who she had just killed. She had no way of knowing if someone else was on their way to rescue him or provide backup. She didn’t even know if the man now in her car was worth saving. Either way, they were questions that did not need answering. Not now, not ever. All she had to do was get him to safety, then get rid of him and hope for the best.

She pulled out onto the street, spinning her wheels, and then quickly made her way across the city to get to her shitty apartment. Well, it was shitty, but not the worst, so that was an improvement. Thankfully, the landlord of the building had just recently fixed the elevator.

The guy next to her groaned, but she ignored him and focused on driving, while also keeping an eye on everything around her to make sure they were not being followed. Her heart pounded and she felt sick to her stomach.

It was late, close to two in the morning, so most of the streets were empty. She passed a few seedy-looking people—some pimps doing deals, prostitutes selling their wares, drug deals. The usual kind of shit that happened in bad neighborhoods after dark.

Arriving at her apartment, she parked the car, got out, and started to help the man toward the building. Every now and then, she nearly dropped him, because he weighed a lot more than her. She nearly fell to the ground a few times.

By some miracle, she was able to get him inside the building, into the elevator, and then into her apartment. She was sweating by the time they got there, and she was also feeling a little sick. This was not good.

She was able to get him into her small kitchen and dining area. Now, she saw the blood on his face clearly, but there also appeared to be two potential gunshot wounds.

“Who are you?” he asked.

She looked at him and immediately looked away. “I’m no one. We’re not going to share names. We’re not going to know anything about each other. I don’t want to know what went down tonight. Tell me if you want me to just drop you off at the hospital.”

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Auctioned to the Alpha – A Possessive Mountain Man Romance Read Online Aria Cole http://www.ilovenovels.com/auctioned-to-the-alpha-a-possessive-mountain-man-romance-read-online-aria-cole Wed, 20 May 2026 17:52:13 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/auctioned-to-the-alpha-a-possessive-mountain-man-romance-read-online-aria-cole Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Aria Cole Advertisement

Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 29800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >25

I came to Devil’s Peak to investigate missing hikers and illegal land deals.
I did not come to get auctioned off to a dangerously possessive mountain man.
Especially not Rhett Maddox.
The former military ranger is infamous around town for three things:
being enormous,
being terrifying,
and wanting absolutely nothing to do with people.
So when a stalker starts leaving surveillance photos outside my cabin, the last person I expect to step in is him.
But Rhett doesn’t just defend me.
He claims me.
In front of the entire town.
“She’s staying with me.”
Now everyone in Devil’s Peak thinks I belong to the grumpy, growly alpha mountain man who watches me like he’s already decided I’m his.
And the more time I spend with Rhett, the more dangerous he becomes.
But someone is still watching.
The deeper I dig into Devil’s Peak’s secrets, the clearer it becomes that my stalker isn’t going away quietly. And when the danger finally turns deadly, Rhett makes one thing terrifyingly clear:
Anyone who touches me dies.

Auctioned to the Alpha is a steamy small-town mountain romance featuring a possessive grumpy hero, forced proximity, fake dating, protective obsession, survival-thriller tension, and a fiercely devoted mountain man who falls first, hardest, and permanently

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Nora

The farther I drive into Devil’s Peak, the narrower the roads get.

Pine trees crowd both sides of the highway, tall and endless, their branches cutting across the fading spring light like claws. Snow still clings to the higher ridges of the mountain even though the valley below is muddy and green, and every few miles I pass another handmade sign for the Spring Rescue Festival nailed to telephone poles.

Fish Fry Tonight

Bachelorette Auction Saturday

DEVIL’S PEAK SEARCH & RESCUE FUNDRAISER

Very charming.

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and glance at the GPS again even though I already know there’s barely any signal left. Typical. Of course the town I’m investigating for corruption and missing hikers is buried in the mountains like the beginning of a true crime documentary.

The deeper I go, the more exhausted I feel. Not physically. I can drive for hours without blinking. It’s the other kind of tired, the kind that settles into your bones after years of watching your back and pretending stress doesn’t get to you.

Seattle nearly ate me alive the last few months.

The fraud story blew up bigger than anyone expected. Three arrests. One city council resignation. Endless media coverage. Endless threats afterward.

You should watch your back.

You don’t know who you’re messing with.

Pretty girls disappear every day.

I got good at pretending those messages didn’t bother me.

My father practically trained me for it. Growing up with him meant learning early that weakness was something people used against you. Crying annoyed him. Fear disgusted him. Vulnerability was just another word for stupidity.

So I adapted.

Smile. Deflect. Stay sharp.

Never let anyone see the hit land.

Unfortunately for me, Devil’s Peak feels like the kind of place where people notice everything anyway.

The town finally appears around the bend of the mountain about twenty minutes later, tucked between thick forest and rocky cliffs like it’s hiding from the rest of the world. The main street is crowded with trucks, tourists, and locals setting up festival booths beneath strings of lights stretched overhead.

Mountain men everywhere.

Flannel. Boots. Beards.

A woman carrying a tray of pies walks across the street while two men unload kegs outside a bar called The Devil’s Brew. Somewhere nearby, live country music drifts through the air.

Everyone looks like they belong here.

I don’t.

The realization hits immediately.

I’m too polished. Too city. Too tense.

And judging by the looks I get when I climb out of my Jeep, everyone else notices it too.

I sling my camera bag over my shoulder and head toward the bar anyway because if I’m going to get answers, alcohol usually helps loosen people up.

The Devil’s Brew smells like whiskey, cedar, and testosterone.

A few conversations die the second I walk in.

I make my way to the bar slowly, feeling eyes follow me the entire time. Most aren’t hostile exactly. Curious more than anything.

Like they’re trying to figure out what kind of trouble just walked into town.

A blonde bartender with tattoos winding down both arms strolls over and sets a napkin in front of me. “What’ll it be?”

“Something strong.”

Her mouth twitches. “Tourist?”

“Journalist.”

That earns me a look.

Not warm.

Not welcoming.

Interesting.

“What are you writing about?” she asks casually.

“Missing hikers.”

The reaction is instant.

The man beside me stills halfway through lifting his beer.

Someone farther down the bar mutters, “Jesus Christ.”

The room doesn’t go silent completely, but it gets close enough that I notice.

I lean against the bar, pretending not to notice the shift. “That a sensitive subject around here?”

The bartender sets a whiskey glass in front of me a little harder than necessary. “Depends who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.”

“That’s your first mistake.”

I almost smile at that.

Almost.

Before I can answer, another voice cuts in behind me.

“You’re wasting your time.”

Low.

Rough.

Male.

The sound slides down my spine before I even turn around.

And when I do?

Oh.

That’s a problem.

He’s leaning against the wall near the back hallway like he owns the damn building. Tall enough to tower over everyone else in the room, broad shoulders stretching beneath a dark thermal Henley rolled to his forearms. Heavy beard. Dark hair. Sharp eyes locked directly on me.

Not just looking.

Assessing.

There’s a difference.

Everything about him feels controlled in a way that immediately puts me on edge.

Not loud.

Not showy.

Dangerous men rarely are.

“And why’s that?” I ask, turning fully toward him.

His gaze drags over me slowly, taking in the camera bag, my boots, my face, like he’s cataloging information whether I want him to or not.

“Because people who go looking for trouble up here usually find it.”

The bartender mutters, “Rhett.”

I take a sip of whiskey, refusing to let him see the way his attention affects me. “That sounds suspiciously like a threat.”

“It’s advice.”

“From a stranger?”

His eyes hold mine steadily. “You won’t stay a stranger long in a town this small.”

Something about the way he says it makes heat creep up my neck, which is deeply irritating.

I straighten slightly. “You always this welcoming?”

“No.”

The answer comes flat and immediate.

A couple guys near the pool table laugh quietly into their beers.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >25

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Falling for My Ex-Husband’s Billionaire Boss Read Online Marian Tee http://www.ilovenovels.com/falling-for-my-ex-husbands-billionaire-boss-read-online-marian-tee Wed, 20 May 2026 17:52:12 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/falling-for-my-ex-husbands-billionaire-boss-read-online-marian-tee Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Marian Tee Advertisement

Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >26

She’s forty-two, twenty years married, and one closed door away from losing everything she thought was hers.

Their weekend getaway was supposed to be a trip they’d never forget. And that’s exactly what happens…when Nicole finds her husband in bed with a girl almost half his age.
She walks out in a daze…and straight into the arms of Chase Everford. Tall, good-looking, and British. He’s also her husband’s billionaire boss, and now, her knight in shining armor.

An emotional, fast-paced, microdrama-length marriage-in-crisis romance. Wronged wife. No cheating by the leads. Intense chemistry, feel-good billionaire romance. HEA guaranteed

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

A CLOSED DOOR.

That says everything when you're a married man, your assistant happens to be young and nubile, and now those two people who should never be alone are inside a room.

And the door's closed.

For one moment, I'm just so tempted to just walk away. Because clichés are clichés for a reason, and right now all I'm thinking is—

What I don't know won't hurt me, so why can't I? Why shouldn't I just walk away? Our marriage isn't perfect, but we've been together since college. What are people going to say if things are exactly as I feared?

So just walk away, walk away, walk away—

And yet my legs are moving at the same time I'm thinking of walking away.

And instead of leaving I'm walking closer and closer, and the next thing I know I'm reaching for the knob, and it's actually cooperating with me, turning silently in my fingers like it wants me to see the evidence with my own eyes.

The door slowly opens. One stealthy inch at a time until I finally see...shapes.

Under the covers.

That's all I can allow myself to think.

Two shapes moving simultaneously in a dance that's as old as time, and just as hideous because these two shapes weren't supposed to be together behind a closed door.

These two shapes weren't bound by matrimony, weren't forged by a relationship that spanned decades. And yet the sounds they're making right now...

In the same bed that I woke up from this morning—

I turn away.

My legs have stopped shaking for some reason.

They're not shaking. They're just standing there. Holding me up like nothing's happened. Like the world hasn't just—

Stop.

Don't think.

Just walk.

And as I slowly descend, I hear...one of the shapes, yes, that's how I should think of them for now.

Shapes.

Just shapes.

Shapes, shapes, shapes.

And one of those shapes, the younger one, she's noticed the door slightly ajar—

"Has that always been opened?"

Her tone is so innocent and young. How is that possible when she's under the covers with a shape that's not hers?

"Ignore it," the older shape groans. "Come back—"

"I'm serious, Mr. Big."

Did she just—

Did she seriously—

"Please check it for me?"

A loud sigh.

"Alright, anything for my tiny."

Oh, how cute.

Mr. Big and his tiny. I don't think we were that cute even when we first started dating back in college.

Maybe that's why...he's in there with her right now and not me?

Maybe that's why I'm out here pretending my legs aren't shaking when they so obviously are?

Don't.

Don't go down that road.

Not yet.

I'm walking. That's the only job I have right now. To walk. Like I've walked down a hundred hallways exactly like this one for him, in heels I picked because he liked them, in dresses I picked because he liked them, smiling at concierges and bellmen and the wives of the other men who matter, because that's the job I signed up for at twenty-two.

I tossed my dreams all out of the window because he asked me to, and I believed that was what it meant to be a good wife.

That was all I wanted.

To be a good wife, and...and...just stop thinking, Nicole!

I look around desperately.

The walls.

Okay, the walls then.

I focus on them. The walls are...cream-colored. And...and the carpet underneath my heels is a solid color of gray and luxuriously thick. Very neutral and chic. Just like the rest of this hotel. And all the other guests, even the two shapes under—

"Nicole?"

The sound of my name on his lips is like having cold, hard reality slap me, and I just start running.

"Nicole, wait—"

I feel like laughing and crying. He sounds panicked. That's all I hear. Panic. Because I guess...that's all he cares about.

Him and her.

But not me...his wife, and I...I...I have to run.

Because his footsteps are getting louder, and so I keep running and running while telling myself, Don’t.

Don’t think and just run.

All I have to do is just keep running until I outrun reality and—

BAM!

I’ve bumped into someone else, and he's...I feel like I've seen him before, but I can't remember where. And right now, it doesn't really matter—

"Nicole, dammit!"

Because that...that shape is still calling my name out, and now he actually sounds resentful?

The way he’s acting, it’s as if I’m an inconvenience. And being hysterical and mean. It’s as if he hasn’t just been in bed with another—

“Sir!”

That’s Sandy exclaiming the word, and since I know I’m not someone he’d call that, I look up, and—

Why does this man seem familiar?

“S-Sir, I’m sorry, this is a misunderstanding.”

Sandy is actually stuttering behind me, but he also sounds like he’s coming closer and closer, and I...I just panic. I look up at the stranger who’s still holding my elbow like he thinks my knees will give out at any moment. And maybe...maybe he’s right. Because the moment I hear Sandy bite out my name like he’s dying to punish me—

“P-Please.”

The word stumbles out like the broken plea that it is.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >26

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Ruthless Vow – Sinful Mafia Daddies Read Online Natasha L. Black http://www.ilovenovels.com/ruthless-vow-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Wed, 20 May 2026 17:52:11 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/ruthless-vow-sinful-mafia-daddies-read-online-natasha-l-black Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Natasha L. Black Advertisement

Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >71

He saved me from a kidnapping.
Promised protection I never asked for.
And became more dangerous than my enemies.
Viktor Kovalev isn’t a hero.
He’s the kind of man even the Bratva fears.
And he just started a war over me.
I was supposed to marry a monster.
A forced Bratva alliance my own father arranged.
I said no.
They dragged me into a car anyway.
Then Viktor showed up with a gun and a death wish,
And everything changed.
He locked me in a safehouse.
Called me Valkyrie.
And looked at me like I was already his.
I told him I’d never be his.
He said, “Then fight me.”
So I did — until fighting turned into something
neither of us could walk away from.
Now I’m carrying a secret that will change everything.
His enemies want me as a bride.
My father wants me as a bargaining chip.
But Viktor?
When he finds out what I’m hiding, he won’t just protect me.
He’ll end bloodlines to keep ours safe

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

VIKTOR

Ileave the restaurant before dessert because I’m tired of listening to these assholes lie to my face. They think they’re clever, but I see through their ass-kissing. They want a piece of my territory, but the answer will always be no. They think I’m going to forget how quickly men like them switch sides when a bigger threat walks into the room.

Sergei stays behind to finish the meeting with them. He’s better at pretending to negotiate, at reeling them in to the point that we earn their trust. I’m the one who ultimately drops the hammer. My word is law. It doesn’t hurt to have allies though, and just because I’m not giving them my property doesn’t mean we can’t be useful to one another in the future.

That’s where Sergei shines. He somehow makes people see a “no” as a positive. He establishes these bullshit relationships that help us and hurt our enemies. They don’t even realize what they’re agreeing to when all is said and done, and we still end up on top. It’s why Sergei is the second-in-command of my family’s operation. He knows how to get results.

The smaller Brighton outfits are getting nervous. That’s what tonight was about, even if they wouldn’t say it directly. They kept circling back to the same subject without ever landing on it. They’re all terrified of Grinkov. They’re all experiencing new dock disputes, increased security shifts, and shipments that used to move quietly are now being rerouted. They all want to know if I’m going to step in and do something about it. They want protection without openly declaring allegiance.

I’m not in the habit of fighting other men’s wars.

My family carved out our stretch of Brooklyn decades ago. My grandfather did it with brute force. My father cleaned it up, turned it into something structured and profitable. I inherited something stable, something disciplined. We don’t expand our operations purely for ego. We expand when it makes sense for our organization. We survive by minding our own business and staying out of petty disputes.

Grinkov doesn’t operate that way. He doesn’t build, he consumes. That’s why everyone is running scared. They don’t want their own operations to be bulldozed by Grinkov, but it’s not my place to intervene.

I collect my keys from the valet and wait for him to bring the car around. By the time he pulls around, I barely give him a chance to get out before I’m behind the wheel.

I told my driver to take the night off because I knew this meeting would leave a bad taste in my mouth. I need a drive to clear my head and consider everything that’s happened.

Neptune Avenue is alive tonight. Music spills out of open doors. Women laugh too loudly, stumbling over shoes that look like weapons. A few young idiots rev engines like they’re the biggest, baddest punks on the block. I don’t see any of it the way civilians do. I’m counting security rotations. I’m noting new faces outside clubs that used to answer to me. I’m clocking which runners are too young to be local.

There are too many new bodies in Brighton Beach. Too much movement near my borders.

Brighton Beach has always been shared territory in practice, even if no one says it out loud. Half answers to Kovalev influence. Half leans toward Malenkov. Grinkov has been trying to tilt that balance for years, buying up failing businesses, sliding their people into management positions, offering loans with interest rates that bleed families dry.

They don’t just want Brighton. They want all of Brooklyn.

If they get enough footholds, they’ll start pressing toward Bay Ridge and Red Hook next. Toward my docks.

And I don’t lose ground.

Volna’s side entrance comes up on my right. That club is Grinkov money through and through. Flashy, loud, attracting exactly the kind of chaos that brings police attention. I’ve let them keep it because it’s contained. Because it’s easier to let them burn out Brighton than to fight over it, but I don’t like how popular it’s becoming. It’s attracting an unwelcome element to my territory.

I’m halfway past the alley when the movement pulls my attention.

There are three men crowding around a woman near a black sedan that’s angled toward the street, engine already running. At first glance, it looks like the kind of messy argument that happens outside nightclubs every weekend. A drunk couple fighting. A girl refusing to go home. Something loud but ultimately unimportant.

Then I look closer.

One of the men is gripping her upper arm too high and too tightly for it to be casual. The second has his hand braced at her waist, not guiding her but forcing her. The third keeps glancing up the street instead of looking at her, which tells me this is organized.

I slow the car without thinking about it. A horn blares behind me and I flip on my hazards. The driver lays on his horn again. I don’t look back. If he wants to pick a fight, he’s going to get more than he’s bargaining for.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >71

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Promise Me Forever (Whispering Oaks – Steel & Seduction #4) Read Online Tory Baker http://www.ilovenovels.com/promise-me-forever-whispering-oaks-steel-seduction-4-read-online-tory-baker Wed, 20 May 2026 17:52:10 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/promise-me-forever-whispering-oaks-steel-seduction-4-read-online-tory-baker Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Tory Baker Series: Whispering Oaks - Steel & Seduction Series by Tory Baker
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Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >37

She thought I was lying.

The first time we met, she dismissed me as a smooth-talking stranger with a cheap pickup line and easy smile…and decided to walk away.
I should’ve forgotten her.
I didn’t.
Now she’s on my doorstep—surprised, breathtaking, saying my name like she owns it. And all I can think about is pressing her against the wall and stealing the words from her mouth.
Because she’s wrong about me.
I’m exactly who I said I was—the artist her boss is desperate to sign. The man behind the metalwork her boss can’t stop talking about.
Now she’s here to convince me to agree to an exclusive show.
I might.
On one condition.
I get what I want.
And what I want… is her

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

TOREN

A few days earlier

“Gonna suck without you at the plant,” Jace says. I’m two beers deep, and my place is close enough for me to walk home. If not, the guy beside me will drop me off and head home with his woman, Willow. His little sister, Jade, works behind the bar here at The Social; no doubt Locke, her man and Jace’s childhood best friend, will be showing up before too long. Talk about a shit show when that blew up. The gossip mill went to fuckin’ town and wouldn’t shut up about it until they all reconciled.

“Your actin’ like we don’t have weekly poker night. Not like I’m movin’ halfway around the world. Shit, I’m just workin’ from home.”

“Want another?” Jade asks, sliding a tray of nachos our way.

“Sure,” I reply.

“Not for me. Gotta drive,” Jace says to his sister.

“You got it.” She taps the bar top before moving to grab drinks for everyone who need another round.

“Know you’re not movin’, also know the people at the mill aren’t you. Means I’m gonna get more fuckin’ work than I know what to do with.” The music changes from one song to the next, this one a well-known classic from Bad Company. Feel Like Making Love. My thumb taps the beat on my beer bottle. This place will start to fill up as the night goes on, and in doing so, it gives me more to see as I people watch.

“Thinkin’ you just don’t wanna work anymore. Then again, if I were your age, I wouldn’t either.” My eyes catch on a group of women looking at the piece of art Ronnie commissioned from me not long ago. The guys heard I’d been working with metal, creating wall art that mimicked the river and surrounding areas of Jace’s land, then the requests started coming in. So much so that I got clever.

That whole ‘work smarter, not harder’ mantra kicked in. I’d noticed the interest—the unsolicited emails, messages on social media, and my own cousin telling me to get my shit together and to let her help me. Which I did. She set up my website, a presence on some type of this or that thing. All I know is Julliette comes home once a month, takes more videos and pictures of me working, the artwork, and whatever else she can squeeze in, then it’s all set up for the month, she gets a percentage, which I gladly pay her, and it keeps the orders and my bank account flush.

“Fuck you, man.” Jace turns around, his gaze nowhere near where mine is, and that’s because Willow walks in with Locke. He’s up and out of his chair before I can respond. Figured that’d happen regardless. All the guys in our group are rooted deeply when it comes to the women in their life, not that I can blame them. Shit, I’d be the same if I met the one. Since that hasn’t happened yet, here I fucking sit.

My attention returns to the group of women glancing at the metal art piece. It wasn’t one of my more difficult pieces, the raised metal with the script being the bar’s name, plus a couple of other details where they can add a vinyl album and empty bottles, which it looks like they’ve started to do. The problem Ronnie and her dad had was settling on where to put it. It’s big, bigger than I’d thought they want, and covers nearly an entire wall.

“Here’s your beer, Toren,” Jade says behind me.

“Thanks. Be right back,” I toss over my shoulder when I see the crowd thinning except for the woman who’s had my eye the entire fucking time. I move through the bar, walking around the pool tables and people playing darts; there’s even a makeshift dance floor where there wasn’t one before. It seems Ronnie, with likely the help of Jade, has nailed the old man down and is making some good changes these days.

“Nice, huh?” I say over her shoulder. She turns around. Her long, dark hair effortlessly cascades down in one smooth sheath and past her shoulders. Her skin glows with a sun-kissed warmth, but it’s her eyes that are the most striking: deep, expressive, and slightly guarded. Enough to make you want to earn whatever secrets she’s protecting.

“It’s amazing.” She’s wearing a simple white top that fits tightly enough to give me a glimpse of her shape; goddamn, is it pretty. The fabric lifts with the simplest of movements, revealing a teasing sliver of her stomach. It makes me want to glide my fingers across her skin. Her low-slung jeans hug her hips in an effortless and confident way, and the heels on her feet do even more for her. No wonder Jace was gone for Willow when he saw her in a pair.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >37

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Single Mom’s Firefighter SEALs – Military Mountain Men Read Online Stephanie Brother http://www.ilovenovels.com/single-moms-firefighter-seals-military-mountain-men-read-online-stephanie-brother Wed, 20 May 2026 17:52:08 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/single-moms-firefighter-seals-military-mountain-men-read-online-stephanie-brother Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Stephanie Brother Advertisement

Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >79

I came to this mountain town to keep my son safe—not to be claimed by three dangerous men.

I’m a widowed single mom running from secrets the Navy buried with my husband.
Moon Ridge was supposed to be a fresh start.
A quiet place where I could finally stop looking over my shoulder.

Then the fires start.
The men watching me aren’t strangers.
They’re the last ones who saw my husband alive.
I don’t know what they want from me.
But they’re the ones running toward the flames.

Three firefighters.
Former Navy SEALs.
Mountain men built for war and carrying ghosts as heavy as mine.

Buck is commanding and relentless.
He’s built to dominate danger—and me.

Weston has hungry eyes and a tempting touch.
He’s all warmth until someone threatens what’s his.

Calder is scarred, silent, and smoldering.
Beneath the surface, there’s a wildfire he barely keeps contained.

They close ranks and put us under their protection.
They swear nothing will touch us again.

I shouldn’t want them.
Not after losing my husband to that life.
And not times three.

Because every fire is a warning.
And the enemy hunting us knows exactly how to turn everything we love to ashes

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

BUCK

The early morning air smells of wet ash and burned insulation when I step out of my truck. I wasn’t due in for another hour, but I couldn’t get back to sleep after the call came in.

Forced entry, the captain had said.

The old building was Moon Ridge’s original and only school many years ago, but has long been used for records and maintenance storage for the newer primary school facility across the street. Being opposite diagonally from the firehouse, I see the structure all the time, and it’s been quiet enough to blend into the scenery until now.

Today, it’s blackened on one side, the roofline partially collapsed. A faint haze lingers near the wreckage, the last residual heat rising off soaked debris after knockdown. Bright caution tape is strung around the perimeter.

The captain appears as I’m gathering my gear. “Pry marks on the rear door,” he says, in lieu of a greeting. “Nothing valuable inside. We thought kids at first, but something’s not right.”

I sling my bag over my shoulder. “Anyone inside?”

“It’s clear. Utilities cut. When we saw the cabinets, we held back overhaul in the file room.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll send an assist over.”

As the captain heads back to the station on foot, I start a slow 360. At the building’s rear entrance, fresh marks confirm the break-in, as reported. The metal of the door jamb is peeled outward in a clean arc. Someone brought a tool with them specifically for the purpose.

There are no obvious footprints near the threshold, where the snow was disturbed from suppression traffic, partially melted, then refrozen.

When Robbins arrives, the two of us head inside, where the damage is uneven. Some rooms are smoke-stained but otherwise unharmed. In the hallway leading to the records storage, the baseboards are marked with distinct low burn patterns. Charring crosses the floor in irregular paths, indicating a poured accelerant rather than an accidental electrical origin.

I crouch near one of the darkest areas, where the floor’s been cracked by the heat, and smell petroleum. As Robbins aims the flashlight, I mark the spot, photograph it, then pull a sample kit.

In the records room, several of the tall metal filing cabinets are still upright, though their paint is blistered and blackened. Most appear to be undisturbed by anything other than the fire, but a couple of them have drawers extended, as if they were opened before things burned.

Inside one of those open drawers, the hanging file rails have dropped, and clusters of folders are fused into charred masses.

“Personnel—active,” Robbins says, reading the taped label that remains at the top of the four-drawer cabinet. The partially melted label on the open drawer reads “M-R.” Near the back, there’s a sizable gap between the clusters of burned folders.

I take pictures, note my findings, and continue around the space until I come to a wheeled metal cart that’s empty except for a coating of soot and a single file folder, damp at the corners and crumpled, as if by someone’s fist. After documenting its appearance, I pick it up with a gloved hand.

The folder is empty, but its label sends ice down my spine.

Robbins shines the light directly on it. “Ramirez, Elena,” he reads. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

After a beat, I exhale. “New elementary school principal.”

The firefighter nods with recognition. “Maybe somebody’s trying to scare her.”

I collect the folder in an evidence bag without responding. From what I know of her, admittedly most of it secondhand, she doesn’t seem like the type to have made an enemy during the five short months she’s been in town.

Nothing about the fire patterns indicates this was done by a minor, especially one no older than middle school.

The captain calls to tell me a sheriff’s deputy is on the way, so Robbins and I make our way out front to meet him.

“Kids didn’t do this,” I tell him when I deliver a summary of our preliminary findings.

“You calling it arson?”

“Forced entry and pour-pattern indicators. I’m treating it as suspicious until lab confirms,” I say. “I’m still collecting samples. You’ll want to keep this secured as a crime scene.”

“I’ll notify the county investigator.”

Across the street, the school’s parking lot is beginning to fill with staff vehicles. As the deputy gets back in his car, I watch a compact SUV pull into the school’s lot, and it triggers a recent memory.

Three weeks ago, I had been leaving the station at the end of my shift when a black sedan with dark-tinted windows drove slowly past the school’s entrance. At the same time, Elena Ramirez and her son were walking out to the lot.

Even from a distance, I could see the moment she spotted the car. She stopped mid-step and went stiff. She pulled her son closer, then continued on at a faster pace.

I jogged over as the car rolled by, even though I’d been intentionally keeping my distance since finding out she was in Moon Ridge.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >79

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Stripteased – Roommates Read Online Stephanie Brother http://www.ilovenovels.com/stripteased-roommates-read-online-stephanie-brother Wed, 20 May 2026 17:52:07 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/stripteased-roommates-read-online-stephanie-brother Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Authors: Stephanie Brother Advertisement

Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >94

After being dumped at a strip club during my bachelorette party, I didn’t expect to be rescued by four hot-as-sin men who work there.

One moment, I’m staring at the gorgeous twin strippers up on stage. The next, I’m reading a devastating text from my fiancé. I moved across the country for that jerk, and now I have nowhere to go.
Then four men step in to dry my tears. They invite me to the house they share and take care of me. I should be mourning the end of my engagement, but instead I’m mesmerized by my new roommates. They strip me of my defenses and tease me with their incredible bodies.
Austin and Denver, the twin stripping sensations, have identical ripped physiques but opposite personalities. Tonio, the tall, dark, and handsome bartender, is working his way through business school. And Knox, the bouncer, is a mountain of a man whose quiet demeanor hides deep thoughts.
They’re all different, but united on one front: they’re in no hurry for me to leave. It sounds crazy, but I feel more at home with these men than I ever did with my ex. Being in their arms and in their beds awakens sensations and feelings I’ve never experienced. Soon the exhilaration turns into something more for all of us.
Then an unexpected opportunity for the twins threatens to separate the men I love. Can I find the strength to keep us all together?

STRIPTEASED is a steamy reverse harem romance with a happy ever after ending. It’s the first of the Roommates series of standalone novels with characters who continue to make appearances

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

Emma

“Are you having fun?” the curly-haired brunette across the table shouted.

Resisting the urge to tell the truth, I did my best to project my voice above the throb of the music. “Of course!” I didn’t think she heard me, but she gave me a thumbs-up sign. She seemed nice—too bad I couldn’t remember her name.

The women at the surrounding tables roared. On stage, a blond, good-looking man had just whipped off his breakaway pants, revealing the shiny red jockstrap he wore. Sonia, my future sister-in-law, called out, “Yeah, baby!” I couldn’t tell if she was really into this scene or just going through the motions since she was the hostess of my bachelorette party.

Okay, it was a bit awkward to watch nearly naked men with women I didn’t know, but it was still kind of Sonia to do this. We only met a week ago when my fiancé Clint and I left Pennsylvania to move to Tennessee. Our wedding was in two months right here in his hometown of Riverside. Clint had insisted that Sonia be my maid of honor, and it wasn’t like I knew anyone else here yet.

“Shake that thang,” shouted a woman from another table. I sipped my drink as I watched the stripper shake his, ahem, thang at the women nearest the stage. They responded by screaming and shoving money under the tiny elastic strap that held up the pouch in front.

Well, mostly held it up. He looked like he was seconds away from a wardrobe malfunction.

The final chords of the deafening music faded out, and before a lack-of-clothing-related disaster could strike, the spotlights on the stage turned off. There was a round of applause as the inebriated women realized his act was over. To my surprise, the cheering went on for quite some time and was gathering strength. In my opinion, the guy hadn’t been that good—not that I could talk. I couldn’t dance to save my life.

Then one of Sonia’s friends leaned over, the taller one whose name might have been Pam. “The headliners are up next—twin brothers. You won’t want to miss this.”

Ah. Judging from the whoops and screams coming from all around me, I was the only one in the room that hadn’t known that. This really wasn’t my scene, but then again, most crowds weren’t. But since Sonia had taken the time—at Clint’s urging—to arrange for a bachelorette party, I should do my best to seem like I was enjoying it.

I took a deep breath and plastered a smile on my face as I turned to look at the stage. I bit back a wince as the neckline of the black cocktail dress Sonia had lent me threatened to reveal more than it should. The dress definitely didn’t fit me as well as it did Sonia’s curvy, feminine figure. Though it was pretty, I’d spent half the night worrying that my breasts were going to spill out of the loose, low-cut neckline.

The lights were still low, and the women around me were drumming their hands on the table, clearly excited about the next act. The rhythmic thrumming was getting to me—or maybe it was the alcohol. Whatever it was, my pulse seemed to align with the pounding sound, and in spite of myself, I was curious about what was coming.

Then there was a loud whoop, like a cowboy sound, and the spotlights flashed on, aimed directly at the absolute sexiest men I’d ever seen in my entire life. My breath caught in my throat for reasons that had nothing to do with the tight dress, and then I muttered, “Holy shit,” at the same time one of Sonia’s friends said the same thing.

The two identical men were dressed in military fatigues, green camouflage complete with matching caps. They stood tall and strong, surveying the crowd as if they were real soldiers gearing up for a mission. The twins seemed oblivious to the screams and shouts surrounding them.

Good God, I’d never, ever seen men like that in person. They could’ve been movie stars. Rock stars. Hell, I’d vote for them for governor. Or president. Or supreme leader of the universe.

The men marched forward, their movements crisp and precise. The music had a drum cadence to it, and I half expected a drill sergeant to emerge and start to put them through their paces at any moment.

I’d like them to put me through my paces.

Where had that thought come from? It wasn’t like me to entertain thoughts like that, especially not about strange men. Hell, I didn’t even think things like that about Clint.

Then the men started to dance. Except dance was too tame of a word. Their rigid posture gave way to fluid movements of their hips, abs, torsos… suddenly they were rolling and snapping their bodies as if they had at least two times more joints than the average person.

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