Rebecca Grace Allen
(Legally Bound, #2)
Publication date: April 23rd 2018
Genres: Erotica, Romance
She’s no princess. He’s no prince. Then again, they never wanted a fairy tale.
Legally Bound, Book 2
Cassie Allbright takes no prisoners. A half Cuban ball-busting attorney, she’s too tough to admit what she wants in bed. But tough is the only way to cut it in her high-powered firm, and Cassie doesn’t need a knight in shining armor. And she definitely doesn’t need Patrick Dunham—an arrogant, chauvinistic man-whore with a knack for pissing her off.
Bound to the helm of his family’s publishing house, Patrick is shackled to a life of power and wealth he never wanted. Seduction is his only distraction—his nights of pleasure always temporary, because happily-ever-afters are not for him. But while luring a woman into his bed has always come easy, the high-and-mighty Cassie has never succumbed to his charms.
Their verbal sparring turns to foreplay, but instead of scratching an itch, it only whets their appetites. Patrick gives Cassie a taste of what she’s secretly craved, and Cassie’s dark desires stir up things Patrick never knew he wanted. Enchanted, he offers to fulfill her most dangerous fantasies. She agrees, with an iron-clad escape clause: her heart is off-limits, and so is his.
Funny thing about hearts, though. They have a way of ignoring the fine print.
Warning: This book isn’t for the faint of heart. Disclosure includes angry, vying-for-control hate sex and one steamy weekend in Miami. Ready? Break the caution tape and proceed.
“What is your number-one fantasy?”
Cassie started to answer, then paused. What was she doing? She’d already confessed more to him than she ever thought she would, but she was buzzing off their banter. And off a little more than that, if she were being honest. Patrick was close enough now for her to catch his scent, all woodsy pine and vanilla and man. For her to look at his lips beyond his bristled goatee, and wonder what it would feel like to kiss him.
And that, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, was her cue to exit. She was too turned on, too captivated with the way he was leaning into her, eager to discover her secrets. The risks of following through on this were far too high. She’d never worried about what it would do to their group dynamics if she and Patrick slept together—everyone knew she detested him, and she had a feeling her post-fuck attitude toward him wouldn’t be any different. But she wasn’t about to let her guard down. She wasn’t going to tell him her deepest desires, or fool herself into thinking he was actually interested.
Like that night months ago, she was nothing more than another chase.
Repeating Patrick’s earlier tone, she leaned toward him and asked, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He chuckled again. Cassie reached for her bag, left some cash on the bar and stood. “I think it’s time for me to call it a night.”
“So soon? I thought things were finally getting interesting.”
“I’m always interesting, Patrick. But you wouldn’t have any idea about that, would you?”
“I guess not,” he replied with a broad grin.
“Oh well.” Cassie hooked her bag over her shoulder. “I hope you’re able to find someone half as satisfying to spend your night with.”
She started out, hoping her words landed the punch she’d said them with and knowing full well Patrick’s eyes were on her ass. She glanced over her shoulder.
Yup. Still looking.
Power coursed through her as she sashayed to the exit. He was definitely still interested, and leaving him high and dry was the cherry on top of a pretty fuck-awesome day.
Cassie stepped outside and headed toward the T.
“I’ve always loved your spitfire attitude.”
Patrick’s voice cut through the night. Cassie stopped and whirled around. He was standing at the doorway to the bar, his arms crossed like a bouncer or a Greek god.
“Have you now?” Cassie cocked her brow and placed a hand on her hip. “Well, you’d love me in bed then. I’m a spitfire there too.”
The words popped out before she could stop them, but she didn’t regret it. For once, she wanted that bastard to know the chance he’d passed up. Because she might never have been in love and had dated some serious losers, but damn it she knew how to make a man moan.
Patrick dropped his hands to his sides and quickly closed the distance between them.
“Prove it,” he said.
“That you’re a spitfire in bed. Unless all you can do with that mouth of yours is talk.”
It took everything in her not to snarl. He was baiting her, seeing how pissed off he could get her, like he always did.
Screw the consequences. She’d had enough of his attitude. This time, she was calling his bluff.
She dumped her bag on the ground and got into his space. “I really don’t like you.”
Cassie grabbed him by the collar and closed her fist around his shirt.
“Good,” she said, and kissed him, hard.
Rebecca Grace allen holds a Bachelor of Arts in English with a double concentration in Creative Writing and Literary Comparison as well as of Master of Science degree in Elementary Education, both of which seemed like good ideas at the time. After stumbling through careers in entertainment, publishing, law and teaching, she’s returned to her first love: writing. A self-admitted caffeine addict & gym rat, she currently lives in upstate New York with her husband, two parakeets, and a cat with a very unusual foot fetish.
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