Title: Mating Theory
Author: Skye Warren
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Erotic
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Billionaire Sutton Mayfair has nothing left to lose...
My best friend is getting married to the woman I love. They say the nice guy finishes last. So what's the point of being a goddamn gentleman?
Maybe I should take what I want.
Even that sexy little thing on the street corner.
She needs a hot meal and a place to sleep. Instead I'm taking her home to soothe the savage beast inside me. I was born a bastard, and for the first time in my life I act like one.
Except the more I use her, the more I need her.
I didn't know I had someone left to lose.
But for a single heartbeat, I had her.
Excerpt . . .
Blue eyes narrow. “Ashleigh.”
It would be better if he didn’t remember my name. Better if he could have looked at my legs and my breasts the way the man in the car had done. It would be better to believe that every man would treat me like trash. Knowing that some men are good and kind and caring—but not for me, never for me—hurts worse than anything. “I’m not for sale.” The words slip out before I can stop them. He didn’t even ask my price.
He raises one eyebrow. “Then you’d be the only one.”
Jaded. Maybe I’m not the only one determined to think the worst of the world. “Is that how you think of women? They aren’t all out to get your money.”
For a moment I think he’s going to stride away. He’ll disappear into the night. Hours from now I’ll be wondering if he were real. The possibility hangs in the night like dew. It’s what he wants to do. What he should do. Everything about him, from his clothes to his manner, speaks of a man with manners. With a real job and a real house and a real girlfriend. He shouldn’t be talking to me.
Then he turns toward me, decisive. In a moment he’s in front of me. Another second, and I’m backed up against the stone bricks of the Den. “It’s not how I think of women, darling. It’s how I think of everyone. Men included.”
“Do you have a price?” I manage to ask, even though it’s risky to talk back to a man. Especially when his large frame has me tacked to the wall like a freaking butterfly. This close I can see the shadow of hair on his jaw, the mole beside his right eye.
“Yes. Me.” A harsh laugh. “I’ve got a price. It’s not even a high one.”
“What is it?” It’s like a street urchin wandering into Tiffany’s, this question. It doesn’t matter what the answer is. The number will always be too high. Whether he wants a society wife or a mother for his children, it will never be me.
The word lodges in my skin, sharp and hot. “A kiss?”
There’s challenge in those blue eyes. And pitiless knowledge. “A kiss is all it takes for me to fall head over heels. I’d believe I was in love with you, build a fucking castle in the sky, because I’m just like him, aren’t I?”
A whisper. “Two hundred dollars.”
His gaze drops to my lips. “I thought you weren’t for sale.”
I changed my mind when he talked about castles in the sky. He’s in love with someone else. That much is clear from the bitterness in his voice. I can’t be that woman, but I can pretend for a single night. Somewhere warm. His arms.
“Two hundred dollars and your name.”
That earns me a clap of laughter. “My name.”
“And dinner.” I don’t know where I get the courage. Two hundred dollars is enough to pay my rent for next month. Dinner means I don’t need to eat for another two days.
His name should mean nothing to me.
He bows his head, hiding his eyes. A droplet of rain falls from his hair to my chest. “Christ. What the hell happened to you? No, don’t tell me. I can’t listen to a sob story and still fuck you, and I really want to fuck you."
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