Cover Designer: Coverlüv | Release Date: January 2, 2018
She’s the match that sets the world on fire.
Chaos is terrible for business. Want to become filthy rich off classified government contracts? Stay far, far away from turmoil. One touch, and you’re out.
I never courted chaos.
She came to my doorstep anyway.
Her name? Annabel Forester. Her goal? Upend everything.
She’s an irresistible disaster, as gorgeous as she is unpredictable. One day here, gone the next. I can’t trust her. I certainly can’t be with her. Getting caught with Annabel by my side will put my business on the line.
But it’s too late. I’m addicted to her wild energy, to the curves that set my mind aflame. I’ll do anything to make her mine.
Anything…even if it means I’ll come undone.
There’s a closet down the hall from the costume shop.
It’s a door everyone overlooks. I’ve never seen anyone glance at it, much less open it.
It’s hardly a classy enough place for Beau Bennett, but that’s part of the appeal. Plus, I have four minutes left in this little break. I’m not willing to waste any of it.
I take a look around, yank the door open, step inside, and then tug him in after me. It’s so overlooked that there’s nothing in here aside from some old polishing equipment, probably for the stage floor.
“I know it’s not a penthouse, but—”
Beau silences me with a growl and a kiss. I feel myself surrendering to his strength, to his control. In this space, in this dingy little closet, I don’t think about a thing. Not the sweet spot. Not the break. Nothing.
He is as ravenous as I am, and he pulls away so he can tear my jeans off. They fall to the dusty floor. Beau kneels in front of me, takes my panties in his hands. I suck in my breath. He glances up at me, and he’s . . . someone else. This isn’t the cautious man who didn’t want to sleep with me in case there were unforeseen consequences. This is a man who will take what he wants no matter the cost.
I love it.
I’m already slick.
He rips my panties in two, his eyes still on mine.
It doesn’t hurt, but I gasp. Before the sound is out of my mouth, he’s taken me in his arms and lifted me so that my back is up against the rough concrete wall. When did he unzip his pants? I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter, because the head of his cock is teasing my slit. I arch back, and he thrusts in, his hands tight on my ass.
“Look at me,” he growls. I’m holding on for dear life, but I look down into those eyes, a flash of fear trickling down my back at the tone of his voice. I’ve never been into dominant men. I’ve never been with a man who can be like this behind closed doors. “I want to watch you come.”
That’s all it takes. The steady thrust of him deep inside, filling me completely, and his desire. The way he’s watching me. The way he sees me. The first wave hits, and he lets out a low sound as my muscles clench around him. “Keep looking,” he commands. “Keep looking.”
There are voices in the hallway, strangely close to this unused door, but he doesn’t freeze. He doesn’t seem to care if we’re caught fucking in this little closet. He doesn’t seem to care about the consequences, not at all. He cares about me.
I come down from the peak. I start to relax into his hold. “Again,” he says, his face dark and wild in the dim light of the closet.
The voices get louder, closer. Marilee?
This time he meets me in my release, teeth gritted, eyes still locked on mine.
I’m silent, trying to stop my ragged breathing from escaping into the hall. “You’re so bad,” I whisper. My heart pounds. Now that we’re not actively fucking, I’m worried that the door might swing open, and then . . .
Then people would see me with Beau Bennett.
I can’t say I’d mind.
He helps me back into my jeans and tucks my shredded panties into his pocket. “These are useless now,” he says with a grin.
Back in his disguise as a perfect gentleman, he escorts me to the costume shop. At the door he gives me a lingering kiss. “I promise not to interrupt you again.”
I’m still reeling from the intensity of what happened, speechless as he turns away and moves down the hall. “Will you break your promise?” I finally call after him.
“Wait and see,” he tosses over his shoulder, and then he’s gone.
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One of Five ARC’s for Undone
About the Author
Amelia Wilde doesn’t always write about billionaires, but when she does, they’re alphas with hearts of gold and panty-dropping good looks. She doesn’t always write about small-town men, but when she does, they’re too hot to handle and good with their hands. She always writes about sexy heroes who go after what they want and heroines with enough spark and drive to power an entire city. She always wants the perfect happy ending. She will always accept free cookies.
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