The only thing that stands in the way of my revenge is her.
The lying scheming daughter of the man who killed my parents. She has the secrets I need to bring down her father.
And I’ll do anything to get them. I will lie to her. Steal from her. Use her.
It helps that our chemistry is explosive.
What I’m not expecting is for her to be so sweet. And so strong.
After so many years of lying and hiding, I finally have a place to call home. With people I can call a family. The Paintbrush Inn is my life now, and I won’t let anyone ruin it.
When sexy and world-weary Simon checks in to the Inn, I never expect him to glance my way. I’ve spent my whole life blending into the background. Being overlooked and ignored. It’s been helpful, even though it’s lonely. And he’s way out of my league.
But our attraction is powerful. Undeniable.
Because I can’t let anyone close. If the secrets I keep were to be revealed, my whole life would be destroyed. But something about Simon makes me break all my own rules. I’m letting him in to my home, my body, my life, never expecting he has his own secrets.
His own lies.
When the truth comes out, we’ll both be ruined.
I pull her off the wall and turn my body, so my back is to the corner if anyone comes around they’ll only see black shadow, or me. Not her. I spin her in my arms, my strength and my size making it easy. Her back is against my chest. My dick, pressed uselessly against her spine. I spread my hands wide against her stomach and her head rests against my shoulder.
She’s tense, but she’s not leaving.
“Do you want to come?” I breathe into her ear.
“Oh, my God,” she whispers, her knees buckling.
“Tell me, Penny.”
“I have to…go. They’re calling me.”
“Do. You. Want. To. Come?”
She pulls in a breath. Holds it. Holds it forever and I realize I’m holding my breath, too.
“Yes.” She says on a soft, sweet exhale, her body relaxing against mine. The perfect curve of her ass resting against me. “I want to come.”
“Will you let me…?” My fingertips pop open the button of her jeans, slide down the zipper. I see the slice of her belly in the shadows. No tattoos there. I ease my fingertips under the elastic band at the top of her underwear. I wait for her consent and get it in spades when she puts her hand over mine and pushes me between her legs.
She is hot and damp. And her hand stays over mine as I stroke through her thick folds finding the hard knot of her clit.
“Hard,” she breathes into the night air. “Fast.”
And that’s what I give her.
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About the Author
Molly O'Keefe has always known she wanted to be a writer (except when she wanted to be a florist or a chef and the brief period of time when she considered being a cowgirl). And once she got her hands on some romances, she knew exactly what she wanted to write.
She published her first Harlequin romance at age 25 and hasn't looked back. She loves exploring every character's road towards happily ever after.
Originally from a small town outside of Chicago, she went to university in St. Louis where she met and fell in love with the editor of her school newspaper. They followed each other around the world for several years and finally got married and settled down in Toronto, Ontario. They welcomed their son into their family in 2006, and their daughter in 2008. When she's not at the park or cleaning up the toy room, Molly is working hard on her next novel, trying to exercise, stalking Tina Fey on the internet and dreaming of the day she can finish a cup of coffee without interruption.