Author: Lilly James
Genre: Erotic Romance
Release Date: August 4, 2015
Evelyn Banks is her own worst enemy…
Wade Parks asks for only one thing—to be obeyed…
Wade’s perfect world is one of discipline and obedience. When he encounters his firm’s new employee, he begins a cat-and-mouse game in his pursuit of the feisty and independent Evelyn, determined to break through her cold demeanor and give her the discipline he’s sure she craves.
Evelyn is willing to submit to his dominance, but her emotions are another matter…
Both of Evelyn’s parents were addicts, incapable of giving her the slightest bit of affection, and she’s not equipped to deal with the rush of powerful emotions her relationship with Mr. Parks unleashes. So she turns to the only solace she knows—numbing her feelings with alcohol.
He sees past Evelyn’s flaws, but some secrets hit too close to home…
Just as Evelyn’s heart begins to thaw, Mr. Parks is reminded of his own troubled upbringing and he pulls away, leaving her feeling abandoned.
But another very real danger is lurking, and Evelyn might be very wrong about the source of the threat…
Can she be saved by denying Mr. Parks?
Or is submitting to him the only way to save them both?
“Did you know he was accepted at Harvard Law School when he was only eighteen years old? I was highly impressed when I read all about it,” Clarke said, pouring hot water into our mugs. I pulled out a teaspoon from the drawer and took the milk out of the small fridge.
“Who? God’s gift to women?” I scoffed, pouring full-fat milk into my tea. The only reason I looked up from the milk carton was because it went quiet. When I turned, just as I dreaded, Parks was standing with arms crossed in the doorway wearing his black suit ensemble and an inward, amused smirk. Clarke cleared an imaginary lump from his throat, picked up his tea cake and mug, then scuttled from the room, leaving me. Shit house.
“Hi.” He smirked. His green eyes were bright and amused as they watched me. I quickly turned my back, placed the carton of milk back in the fridge, and said fuck under my breath for getting caught. “So you think I’m God’s gift to women?”
Oh God, he heard me. I tried to hide my smirk by biting my lip as I turned to face him.
“No. That’s what you think you are.”
“Perhaps you are God’s gift to me?”
I laughed at his ridiculous attempt to sweeten me up. “I am not a gift to you, Parks. And if I was a gift, it sure as hell wouldn’t be from God.”
His eyes narrowed briefly as if he were afflicted. “Evelyn, I notice you have an incredible inferiority complex.”
I blinked at his vocabulary. “Come again?”
He sighed in a way that indicated my obliviousness was adorable to him. “You have low self-esteem.”
“I do not,” I shot back, extremely defensive because that’s what I did. I couldn’t take compliments or criticism. “Why are you even in here?” I glanced around the room. “Don’t you have Jittery Joanna to run around after you?” His green eyes stared at me for a second as though he was trying to figure out who I was referring to. Then he chuckled and pinched the bridge of his nose. It made me laugh, because seeing God’s gift smile was surprisingly refreshing; he completely lit up.
“Jittery Joanna is on her break, and as I watched your fine physique strut in here, I felt obliged to follow.” Proving he liked what he saw, his insatiable gaze lowered down the length of my curvaceous body dressed in a tight-fitted black dress.
“Really? You don’t seem the sheep type to me.”
“Trust me, I am not the sheep, Evelyn, but the wolf. I always take the last bite.”
Oh. “Looks like you’re out of luck. Clarke just had the last tea cake.” I took a long sip of my tea as he watched me thoughtfully. I knew damn well he wasn’t talking about pastries. But I wasn’t going to be subjected to his dirty-minded ways. Even if my body was telling me to get sucked in, my sensible mind was telling me otherwise, and I had learned to listen to my head.
“What about your cake, Evelyn?”
I almost spat out my tea. “My cake it out of the question, Parks. Besides, it’s not even my birthday.” I hid my grin childishly, mentally thanking Rihanna for that line.
“Hm,” he growled, taking a short step towards me, getting intimately close to my body. He gently took the warm mug from my hand and placed it behind me. My breathing was on hold, and my eyes were glued to his green, hooded irises. I could smell the devouring essence of men’s cologne. It was a burst of freshness along with strong masculinity. Desperately I wanted to push him away, but before I could, his face was inches away from mine, his cool breath against my lips. I’m not sure if it was consciously, but I could taste the watermelon juice he always sipped on his lips. I wasn’t fond of watermelon, but right then, I craved the taste. He brushed the tip of his thumb across my jaw and spread his fingers out across my cheek. “Is your cake moist now, Evelyn? Would you prefer it iced?” He spoke in a low, husky voice that tickled my lips. His tone commanded my nerve endings to stand to attention like their sergeant major had arrived. Shit. He was a charming, expert, arrogant arse who could most certainly make my cake moist—and he did. Even so, he wasn’t having a slice of me.
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