Showing results by author "Penelope Bloom" in All Categories

One wild and reckless night changed my life three years ago. I got a taste of what it meant to be with a real man - how just a whisper could ignite my desire, and his commanding voice could have me kneeling at his feet in submission. He was my everything and I only knew him for a few hours. But like everything good in my life, it went up in flames. When I learned the truth about him, I ran as fast as I could. I’d like to think I would’ve stayed if I knew about the baby… but I doubt even that would’ve stopped me, not after what I learned.

My new boss likes rules, but there's one nobody dares to break... No touching his banana. Seriously. The guy is like a potassium addict. Of course, I touched it. If you want to get technical, I actually put it in my mouth. I chewed it up, too....I even swallowed. I know. Bad, bad, girl. Then I saw him, and believe it or not, choking on a guy's banana does not make the best first impression. I should backtrack a little here. Before I ever touched a billionaire's banana, I got my first real assignment as a business reporter.

My teammates can't know how much she tempts me. Her brother certainly can't know the things I'm imagining doing to her. We'll both keep pretending we're just having fun, even when she winds up sharing my bed in secret. We both agree it's harmless. Just casual. But when her old life comes calling, will I keep pretending, or will I put it all on the line?

You know that instinct to run when something bad is coming? Yeah. I apparently missed out on that one. Because when Damon Rose came, instead of running, I got pregnant.

Everyone in the city knows who I am: Vincent Citrione, top capo of the most powerful crime family in the city. If you’ve got two brain cells to rub together, you’re scared sh*tless of me. As for women, I give them the hardest, dirtiest f*ck of their lives before showing them the door. They know better than to expect more. Commitments? F*ck ‘em. At least, that was my motto until I caught her snooping in the wrong place at the wrong time. Aubriella. I wanted her to be like all the rest of the girls. I wanted to forget her. But I can’t forget her lush curves...

I'll admit it. I messed up. Mistake #1: Asking Peter Barnidge for a job. Mistake #2: Accepting his offer instead of throwing it in his face like I planned. Mistake #3: In the interest of stopping before #99, I'll pretend the only other mistake was withholding one, tiny little nugget of truth during my interview. Peter Barnidge...I wish it was easier to just plain hate him, instead of the twisted, confusing blend of hatred and attraction I feel.

I’m busy carving a name for myself in the mafia underworld, and I don’t have time for the women who chase after me and wanna tie me down. They can get in line for the wildest f*ck of their lives and then they can get lost. I trusted the Sanatores and they ran their mouths. Six years in jail was a long time to plan my revenge, and now nobody will stop me from getting the payback I deserve. Not the bastards who are out to kill me, not the women who want to find out if the rumors about the size of my… ego are true. Nobody. Until I set eyes on her.

I can explain the want ads for saucy male companionship I'm posting. I can even explain pretending to date the city's most notorious playboy. They say revenge is a dish best-served cold, but mine is going to be spicy, sizzling, and hilariously humiliating. My ex, Vaughn, cheated, stole from me, and worse. I refused to be the lovable, heartbroken heroine who hides under a pile of tissues and ice cream pints. Oh no, not me.

How'd I meet her? Well, a gentleman never brags. Thankfully, I'm no gentleman. First, I paid for her cherry (pie, but that's not the point). Next, I deflowered her. After that? I left my business card and walked out like I owned the place. Yeah, you could say we hit it off.

I have a dirty little secret. No guy has ever been able to get me off. They try. They fail. They leave. Rinse and repeat. Until I met Logan Steel. Until he punished me. He’s a self-made billionaire, and he’s heart-stoppingly gorgeous. Oh, and did I mention he’s into BDSM? Like...really into it. He says I can trust him, that he’ll take care of me, that nothing bad will happen so long as I’m his. His kitten. I want to believe him. I want to trust him. But it’s not that simple. Nothing ever is.

Everything went wrong when I trimmed his bush. And no, it's not what you're thinking. I'm a professional. The client hired me to trim a bush in his garden for a party. I accidentally turned it into something that rhymes with "a big rock and walls". Imagine my surprise when the art world decides it's a masterpiece. Were my raging hormones the cause of my bush sculpting blunder? I mean, who would blame me if they were? After meeting Harry Barnidge for the first time, my brain went straight to cavewoman mode.

Our plan? Fake an engagement, have a showy wedding, solve our little problems, then amicably split. It's simple: I keep my B&B, and he shows his team he's serious about cleaning up his act. Perfect, right? But Jake doesn't know how to do things by halves.

For some reason, my new boss has it out to get me. Innocent little me? I'm just a petite, talented, darling little thorn in his side. Okay, my words, not his. But he can't fire me unless I quit—long story. The joke's on him because I couldn't even quit chewing gum, let alone my dream job. So, I thought I had it handled.

Having a hot boss isn't complicated or confusing at all, said no one ever.... But all I have to do is resist for a few months. Come January, I'm flying to Paris to chase my dream of being an artist. Too bad I can't have my treat and eat it, too. I forgot to mention.... My hot boss was also my high school crush. Sort of. First, I wanted to crush him with gooey affection. In the end, I just plain wanted to crush him. Now he's back, and he might as well have "do not touch" printed on his chest. One tiny question: Would it count if I didn't use my hands?

The wedding was going to be a fake. The only catch was nobody could know. Not even my wedding planner. Now the wedding planner thinks I’m the world’s biggest bastard. She thinks I’m in love with the woman I’m supposed to marry. She thinks a lot of things, but she doesn’t know the truth. She’s got no idea she’s going to fall for me by the time this thing is over.

Women know I’m a bad boy. They know that they should keep their distance, but they never do. All they ever get is one night. The dirtiest, hottest night of their lives. Court appointed shrink Dr. Julia Connors shouldn’t have been any different. She shouldn’t have changed me. But she did. She asked me to tell her how I felt. All I wanted to do was lay her down on that couch and make her scream my name. She was the only one I wanted a second night with. She was the only one I couldn’t take it from. And when old rivalries flared, I had to leave to keep her safe…I had to break her heart.

After two years of culinary grind, I was about to land my dream job. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could dampen my spirits. Or so I thought... until fate decided to hit me with a dirty little plot twist. My cozy, one-bedroom cabin rental is double-booked. With whom, you ask? None other than my ex, the NHL star with a knack for making headlines from his off-field conquests since we called it quits.

Ever heard of a virgin romance author? Now you have. Spoiler alert: it’s as sad as it sounds. My roommate thinks I should do some research to help my writer’s block. When a billionaire publishing executive rejects my book, she has the perfect idea. The perfectly terrible idea of tricking him into bidding on me through a BDSM site. I know how it sounds. Crazy. Stupid. Irresponsible. Check, check, check. I couldn’t agree more. Yes, he’s practically dripping with sex appeal. Yes, any woman with a pulse would kill for a “hello” from him. And yes, he looks like he belongs on a movie screen.

The list of reasons I should stay away from my neighbor is about as long as his... wrench. He’s a dirty mechanic, he’s a single dad, and he can’t seem to keep his shirt on for more than five minutes. Did I mention his ex-wife is my best friend? Yeah. Reid Riggins is absolutely, one hundred percent, the last person in the world I should get involved with. Even if he is heart-stoppingly gorgeous with strong, powerful hands that could rip my clothes off with ease. Not that I’ve imagined that, of course.

She’s just temporary, a momentary blip in my life. Although I have to admit she’s quite attractive, as far as blips go. She’s also the first person my son has ever actually liked, which has to count for something. I’ve always been the kind of man to keep my plans flexible. Adaptation is key. Just like I’ve had to adapt to having a beautiful woman waiting for me when I get home every night - temporarily, of course.