Gwen: I've always been daddy's little girl, or so everyone thinks, but what I've really wanted is to break free of my gilded cage. All anyone ever sees is some rich girl who gets what she wants, but that isn't me. I hate my life and I'd give anything to experience true passion, even if it was just once. I'm a twenty-year-old virgin, and I have no doubt that daddy dearest is going to sell me to the highest bidder. Where's a hero when you need one?
Lance: Women have always come easy to me, but there's never been one that tempted me so much as the debutante stepping out of the silver Mercedes. One look at those gorgeous legs and all I can think about is having them wrapped around me while I make her scream my name. One way or another, she's going to be mine.
WARNING: If you love sexy bearded men who talk dirty, be prepared to have your kindle melted. This is a highly erotic story with a case of insta-love.
Publisher's Note: Harley Wylde is the "wilder" side of award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith. Visit Jessica's website at jessicacoultersmith.com. You can find Harley online at harleywylde.com.
Praise for Grease Monkey (A Bad Boy Romance)
"...I really started to enjoy how the plot grew more intricate. With a few plot twists and character surprises my enjoyment and appreciation of the author’s story rose considerably."
-- Fern, Long and Short Reviews
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Grease Monkey (A Bad Boy Romance)
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2016 Harley Wylde
My car gave a clunk and rattle before the entire thing shimmied. "No. No, no, no. You aren't doing this to me now!"
I stared at the gauge and wondered how the hell I'd managed to run out of gas. I was always careful about making sure I had a full tank, but apparently, I'd fucked up this time. I didn't even remember the last gas station I'd seen, not that I had a gas can stored in my trunk. The only thing back there was my latest shopping haul. As far as I knew, I didn't even have a car jack back there, but then I'd always called roadside service if I had a flat.
The car sputtered to a stop in the middle of the road, and I banged my head on the steering wheel. What the hell had I ever done wrong for the universe to hate me so much? I picked up my cell phone and stared at the black screen. I tried to power it on and realized my battery had died. Searching through the console and glove compartment, I couldn't find the charger. I must have taken it out of the car at some point. Great. Stranded. It was a long-ass walk back home, especially in heels. With my luck, someone would think I was a high priced call girl and try to pick me up along the way.
A loud roar reached my ears and I glanced in the rearview mirror. About six motorcycles were barreling my way. I hoped like hell they didn't stop to check on me. It wasn't that I had anything against guys who rode motorcycles, but six rowdy men and just one of me? The odds weren't in my favor. They whizzed past and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Minutes ticked by as I tried to assess my situation and figure out what the hell I was going to do. I could have walked, but to where? I wasn't familiar with this part of town and would be just as lost on foot.
I heard the rumble of a big engine behind me and looked in my rearview mirror again. Was that a tow truck? Maybe my day wasn't complete crap after all. It seemed miracles did still happen, even if they seldom ever happened to me. Whoever he was, surely he would be able to take me to the nearest gas station, and I could just fill up my car and be on my way. I had a little cash on me, but with some luck, they would take checks or plastic.
I opened my door and swung my legs out before rising to meet my savior. Probably a good thing I was holding onto the doorframe when the driver stepped out. Holy mother of God! My knees went a little weak as a giant of a man moved toward me, his muscles bunching and flexing with every step. Mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes, but I got the feeling he was assessing me. Jeans were molded to his thick thighs, and a grease-stained white tee stretched tight over his massive chest and shoulders. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as he stopped in front of me.
"You look like you could use some help."
His deep voice sent shivers down my spine, and my cheeks burned as my panties grew damp. Holy fuck! I'd be willing to bet he could get a woman off just using his voice. And for the first time in my life, I was ready to volunteer to be that woman. No man had ever turned me on before. At school, the boys at the school across town had referred to me as the ice princess. I hadn't even been able to get myself off, so I'd thought maybe they were right. Until now.
His eyebrows rose, and I realized I hadn't said anything.
"It died in the middle of the road." I licked my lips. "I ran out of gas."
"I can take it back to my garage and take a look. It's just a few blocks away." He held out his hand. "Name's Lance." I couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled up.
"Something wrong with my name?"
"Sorry, it's just... with you swooping in to rescue me and your name... it made me think of Lancelot."
He smiled a little, the corner of his lips ticking upward.
My legs squeezed together as more moisture gathered between my thighs. I'd never felt so needy before, so out of control...