Now you can choose what order you want to see comments in. Andreea Dydy. M. Leighton- Down to osakeya.info KB. M. Leighton- Up to osakeya.info KB. M. Leighton 1. Down To You 2. Up to Me 3. Everything for Us 4. Always With You: M Leighton - [Bad Boys - Always With You 01] - A Davenport osakeya.info Up to Me The Bad Boys Series Book 2 By M. Leighton Happily ever after doesn't come easy. But for love, it's always worth the fight. Olivia finds bliss unlike any.
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M. Leighton - Down To You (The Bad Boys 1) - dokument [*.epub] Genre: Adult Contemporary He's leaving it all up to me, just like Ginger asked them to do. The Wild Ones · M, epub, M. Leighton Books, , English, , [Download]. Up to Me · M, epub, M. Leighton Books, , English, , Bad Boys. Up to Me. Bad Boys (Series). Book 2. M. Leighton Author (). cover image of Un ribelle col camice. Un ribelle col camice. BAD BOYS (Series). Book 3.
Her bottle-blond hair looks urine-yellow in the low light and her pale blue eyes are twinkling devilishly. I'm instantly suspicious. He's gonna make sure Shawna has to help the stripper get out of those pesky clothes he'll be wearing. I can't help but laugh. She's a mess. I opt for my water instead. Somebody has to remain semi-lucid. Might as well be me. Tonight is all about Shawna anyway. I want to send her off into married life with the best party possible.
I doubt that includes her having to carry me home or clean vomit off her shoes. A knock at the door to the private room has us all turning our heads in that direction. The girls immediately start laughing and hollering and cat-calling. Dear God, I hope it's the stripper and not a cop or something! The door opens and in walks the most incredibly handsome guy I think I've ever seen. He looks like he's in his early twenties, really tall, and built like a football player-wide chest and shoulders, thick arms and legs, tiny waist in between.
He's dressed in solid black from head to toe. But it's his face that's most impressive. Sweet hell, he's effin' gorgeous! His short hair is dark blond and his face is chiseled perfection. I can't tell what color his eyes are as he scans the room, but I can see that they're dark. He's just opened his mouth to speak when his gaze finally makes its way to me. His eyes click to a stop on mine and he stares. I'm completely mesmerized. As I look into them, I still can't determine a color, but the orbs look nearly black.
Even in the light spilling through the door behind him, they look like pools of ink. Just barely, he cocks his head to the side as he watches me. It makes me nervous. And excited.
I don't know why. I have no reason to be nervous or excited. But I am. He makes me feel twitchy. We're still staring at each other when Ginger gets up and drags him further into the room, flinging the door shut behind him.
Come kick your single life to the curb the right way! Shawna's smiling, but shaking her head. Not this girl! She leans back, away from them, shaking her head more vigorously. I don't want to. One of y'all do it. When she looks at me, her wide brown eyes tell me all I need to know. She's totally freaked by the idea. She nods toward the hunk hulking behind Ginger.
I'm not stripping a stripper! You know I'd do it for you. How the hell does the world's clumsiest shy girl get wrangled into doing things like this? As I so often do, I answer myself.
Because she's a pushover! Taking a deep breath, I stand and turn toward the Hot Stripper Guy, purposely jacking my chin up another notch. He's still watching me with those smoky coal eyes.
When I take a step toward him, he very slowly raises one eyebrow. Heat washes through me. Must be those dangerous drinks, I think. It has to be. I feel flushed and a little breathless, but I take another step anyway.
Hot Stripper Guy backs away from Ginger and turns to face me fully. He crosses his arms over his chest and waits, that one brow still raised in curiosity.
He's not going to make it easy. He's leaving it all up to me, just like Ginger asked them to do. As if on cue, the music that's been pumping into the room all night gets louder. It's a sexy song, heavy on the bass. It's mood music for sure. It seems to punctuate every intense beat of my heart as I get closer and closer to those velvety eyes. When I stop in front of him, I have to look up. My five and a half feet of height is nearly a foot shorter than his towering frame.
Up close, I see that his eyes are brown. Dark, dark brown. Nearly black. I'm lost in wondering why that particular word would come to mind when the girls start chanting for me to take his shirt off. Uncertainly, I glance at their excited faces then back to him. Slowly, he spreads his arms, holding them out to his sides, away from his body. One corner of his mouth twitches. His expression, his body language is rife with challenge.
I realize he doesn't think I'll do it. No one probably does. And that's exactly why I will. Letting the beat of the music relax my tense muscles, I plaster a smile on my face as I reach forward to tug Hot Stripper Guy's shirt from the waistband of his pants. Between this girl's black hair, her bright probably-green eyes, her banging little body and the way she seems a tiny bit shy, I'm wishing we were alone in this room together.
Her smile doesn't leave her lips as she runs her hands around my waist, untucking my shirt. When it's free, she starts to pull it up. But then she pauses. For a split second, I see her hesitate. She's trying not to show that she's unsure of herself, of what she's doing. I stare down into those liquid eyes. I don't want her to stop. I want to feel her hands on my skin. So I taunt her, hoping to feed the feline that I'd be willing to bet is buried somewhere down deep. Is that all you got?
Her eyes bore into mine and I hold my breath, waiting to see which side will win. In fascination, I watch as the balance of power shifts and the change is reflected in her eyes. They get a little brighter, a little feistier. I've never actually seen someone muster courage. Something in this girl refuses to give in, to back down. She's rising to the challenge. And it's hot as hell. She keeps her eyes on mine as she starts to pull up my shirt.
She leans in closer and I get a whiff of her perfume. It's sweet and a little musky. Just like her. She has to plaster her body to mine and stretch up on her tiptoes to get my shirt over my head. I can feel her breasts pushing against my chest. I could make the task easier for her. But I don't. I like the feel of her rubbing against me. There's no way I'm ruining that.
Once she has my shirt off, she backs up and looks me over. She's shy about it. That much is obvious. It's like she wants to look, but she's a little embarrassed to, which actually makes it more of a turn on for some reason.
I'm sure every other eye in the room is watching me, watching us , but hers are the only ones I can feel. They're like tongues of fire, licking my skin. They're searing and tangible.
Or at least they feel that way to me. I take a deep breath and her eyes drop to my stomach. Then they flicker down a little further. She stares longer than she should, but not nearly as long as I want her to. I start to get hard. Her eyes widen and her lips fall open just enough for her tongue to sneak out and wet them.
I have to grit my teeth to keep from pulling her to me and kissing that lush little mouth of hers. Then light pours into the room. It's just enough to break the spell. I hear a man's voice. A very pissed-off man's voice. I know why he's angry. It's not easy to tear my eyes away from hers. There's a shy, reluctant excitement in them that makes me want to see how far I can push her. Push her, that is. Instead, I look away, turning my head to glance first at Jason and then at the room of salivating females.
The jig is up. That was shaping up to be quite a diversion. I smile into the group of faces riveted on me.
He'll be entertaining you tonight. I look at the girl that's holding my shirt. She's perplexed. And for good reason. I don't answer her right away.
I know she'll figure it out soon enough. She looks over at Jason, trying to piece together what just happened. I see it the instant understanding dawns. Her eyes widen again and, even in the low light, I see her cheeks turn red. She looks back to me and frowns.
I own the club. Leighton Happily ever after doesn't come easy. But for love, it's always worth the fight. Olivia finds bliss unlike any she's ever known in Cash's arms. He sets her skin on fire and melts her heart right inside her chest.
Unfortunately, their happily ever after is short-lived when a shadow from Cash's past threatens to turn their world upside down. Dangerous people from his father's world have discovered that Cash holds information that could put them away for a very long time. And they're willing to do anything-and hurt anybody-to get it back.
Giving it up means Cash must choose between the life of his father and the life of Olivia.
Having nearly overcome her wariness of bad boys, Olivia's trust is shaken when this new threat arises. Now she finds that Cash is not only a danger to her heart, but his family has associations that are a danger to her life as well. She soon discovers that there are some situations in life where trust is a girl's only option. And this is one of them. If she's to live, she must trust Cash with her life.
But to Olivia, that's much, much easier than letting go and trusting him with her heart. Kindle Edition Copyright , M. Leighton Cover photo by Gabi Moisa www. Except as permitted under the U. Copyright Act of , no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please download an additional copy for each person.
If you are reading this book and did not download it, or it was not downloadd for your use only, then please return it and download your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and storylines are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
The door to Cash's office opens and closes as he comes out into the club. He looks up and our eyes lock instantly. His expression is carefully schooled, per my request, but that doesn't mean my toes don't curl inside my work shoes. His eyes are blazing as they look into mine. My stomach does a flip and then he looks away, which is a very good thing. Otherwise, it wouldn't be Cash that blew our cover, it would be me-when I leave my position behind the bar, march right over to him, plant my lips on his and then drag him back to bed.
Tearing my eyes away from him, I force my mind back to my job. I smile and nod my thanks, but inside I'm picking her crazy, dread-locked motives apart. She's been nice to me all night and I'm not sure why. She's never been nice to me. Openly hostile, yes. Spitefully devious, yes.
But nice? Oh no. Before tonight, I would've assured anyone who asked that Taryn would rather sharpen her toothbrush into a shiv and shank me than even look at me. And yet, here she is, smiling my way and bussing my side of the bar. Hmmm I'm not a naturally suspicious person, so,,, Okay, so I'm a naturally suspicious person, but I have good reason to be.
A lifetime of schemers, liars, selfish buttmunchers and all around icky people has made me a bit jaded. But I'm coming around.
Anyway, I am extremely curious to know what Taryn's got up her sleeve.
And there is something up her tattooed sleeve. I'd bet my life on it. Or her life. Either way. I can almost see the wheels turning behind the blue of her almond shaped, kohl lined eyes. The only thing I can do, however, is watch my back and keep my eyes open. She'll slip up and show her hand eventually. Then I'll know what's going on in that twisted mind of hers.
Until then, I'm more than happy to let her kiss my fluffy butt and help as much as she wants. I thought maybe we could hit Noir and have a drink, get to know each other a little better.
I stare at her, working to keep my jaw from dropping open as I wait for the punchline. Only there isn't one. She's serious. Why would I ask if I weren't? There goes keeping my eyes peeled and letting her continue on with her ruse. What on earth gave you that idea?
Does she really think I'm that stupid? I turn to Taryn and fold my arms over my chest. I'm not even supposed to be here. Cash and I just got back from Salt Springs a few hours ago. Gavin had my shift covered since Cash didn't know if I'd be coming back or not.
And yet, here I am, working to fill in for Marco when I should be naked, wrapped up in Cash's arms. I don't want the patience to play games. I'm on to you, Taryn. Her innocently pleasant expression settles into something a little more normal for her and she sighs. I don't know if you knew this or not, but Cash and I used to date. Until recently, we were still,,,resolving some things. I thought you might be trying to get in the way of that.
But now I know you're not. Besides, I know he's not interested in you. He's got someone else on the hook, so it wouldn't matter anyway. That he's got someone else on the hook? Because I've seen him with a blond girl a couple times and he's been very, very distracted lately.
And that's not like him. He's not the one-girl type of guy. I knew that going in. Any girl who goes into a relationship with Cash thinking she'll change him or that she'll be the only one is dumber than a box of her long blond hair. Because of the girl you think he's seeing? Which I'm not, of course. Far from it. In fact, I'm so affected I feel like I might hurl right in Taryn's pretty face.
That boy has wild blood. Guys like that don't change. And girls can't make 'em. It's just the way they are. It's part of why they're so irresistible, too. Don't we all want what we can't have?
After a few seconds, she grabs my towel and swipes at a wet glass ring on the bar.
I just wanted you to know I'm burying the hatchet. I busy myself with early clean-up duties. Dual is less than an hour from last call. How in the world I'll make it that long is beyond me, but I know the first step is to keep busy.
But no amount of busy work can silence the conflicting voices in my head. You knew he was a bad boy.
That's why you tried to stay away from him and not get involved. I feel dismay curl in the pit of my stomach like a cold, heartless snake. But then the voice of reason-or is it the voice of denial? After all that has happened over the last few weeks, how can you doubt the way he feels about you?
Cash isn't the type to fake it. And what he's said, what you've shared isn't fake. It's real. And it's deep.
And Taryn is a psychotic bitch who has no clue what she's talking about. Maybe all that tattoo ink has gone to her brain. While all of that is true, nothing I tell myself eradicates the feeling of unease that has settled into my bones.
Into my heart. One part of me-the rational, logical, uninvolved, hurt-too-many times part-pops up to make matters worse. How many times are you gonna fall for the same lines? The same kind of guy? But Cash is different. I know it. Deep down. I remind myself that it's completely unfair to judge a book by its cover. No matter how much experience I have with similar covers. Cash's cover might be that of a bad boy, but the book, the inside is so much more.
As I clean the grate under the beer tap, my eyes wander the thinning crowd and dark interior of the club, looking for Cash. Wouldn't you know that, when I find him, a busty blond bombshell is throwing her arms around his neck and rubbing her skanky little body all over him.