Buchanan Romance 1 - Coerced - Alexx Andria,

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
//-->COERCEDBlackmailed by the BillionaireBy Alexx AndriaCOERCEDBy Alexx Andria© 2015 Alexx Andria. All rights reserved.No part of thisNOVELmay be reproduced in any form without written permission from thepublisher. All characters are fictitious and any resemblance to an actual person is purely coincidental.Cover design by Kim Van MeterThe followingNOVELis approximately 45,000 words and an original work of fiction.Want a FREE read fromUSA TODAYbestselling author Alexx Andria/Kinsey McClane? Newsubscribers to her newsletter will receive their choice of one of three erotic short stories guaranteedto set your ereader on fire!Interested?Just click on the link and you will be whisked away to the sign up form. Easy-peasy!Nobody says no to billionaire Sutton Buchanan. Nobody with a survival instinct or an ounceof common sense, anyway. That’s because he’s a cruel, ruthless bastard who will stop at nothing toget what he wants – including the curvy blonde artist who just gave him the brush-off.Elizabeth Downing is desperate and time is running out. Her one chance at landing anexhibition at the Covington Art Museum has been shot down in flames. The shy, insecure artistcan’t give her art away, much less sell it. How was she going to continue supporting her disabledsister, without selling off a kidney?Unfortunately for Elizabeth, her family tragedy is Sutton’s opportunity. Sutton makesElizabeth a shocking offer that no good man would ever suggest. But Sutton has never pretended tobe a good man.Now he’s going to own her — body and soul.He’s going to push past her limits.He’s going to see where her breaking point is.But he won’t make the same mistake his cousins made by falling in love with his plaything.Elizabeth’s about to find out, the words “love” and “mercy” aren’t in Sutton Buchanan’svocabulary.-1-Bookmark: 1Sutton Buchanan idly walked the upscale Covington Art House. His bored gaze flicked withdisinterest over the current pieces gracing the exhibit walls.When had art become so damn boring? Blah, blah, blah, the same old shit on every wall. Nosense of emotion or passion.Wasn’t that what art was supposed to do? Spark some kind of reaction?Hell, he was no fucking art major but this shit?Boring as fuck.Sutton rounded the corner and nearly ran into a short, round, plainly agitated blonde whodropped her art portfolio with a small shriek at the unexpected contact.“Oh! Ohmygracious! Sorry...” She pushed her glasses deeper on the bridge of her nose and thenbent to collect her spilled artwork, her small hands fluttering with anxiety as she attempted to quicklygrab her art and bail. It was then he realized she was crying.Intrigued, Sutton began to help but she brushed him off.“I got it, thanks.” She sniffed and shoved the artwork deeper in her bag before hustling off,leaving Sutton with a very nice view of her generous ass.That was one squeezable, spankablebehind,he thought with interest.Long blonde hair trailed down her back in gentle curls and waves and he was struck with theimage of twisting that gorgeous mane in his palm, bowing the woman as he rammed his cock betweenthose luscious cheeks.Amusement curled his lips, his licentious thoughts interrupted by the effeminate voice of the arthouse director. “Mr. Buchanan...what a pleasure.”With a small sigh of regret, he turned to accept the limp handshake of the director. “Mr. Polk, Ipresume?”“You presume correct,” Polk tittered, clasping his hands together before gesturing toward hisoffice. “Let us discuss business in my office...or should I say,youroffice?” He tittered again,believing himself clever. “To be owned by a Buchanan...one can only dream.”Sutton suffered a short smile for the sake of the director. Buchanan Enterprises had recentlyacquired Covington Art House and his west coast cousins, Dillon, Vince and Nolan — otherwiseknown asthe cocksuckers— had foisted the details onto him to smooth out.Polk drifted into a seat like a butterfly and graced Sutton with a blinding, too-white smile. “Whatdo you think of Covington? Honest opinions, please.”“I think it’s fucking boring,” Sutton returned easily, enjoying Polk’s instant wilting. “It’s stuffyand staid. My grandmother has edgier art in her bathroom than this place. It’s a wonder you’vemanaged to keep the doors open.”Clearly not the reaction Polk had been expecting but Sutton enjoyed putting people off theirgame.And the man had asked for honesty.“I see,” Polk straightened, losing his flirty behavior and stiffening a little. “We have some of themost esteemed artists of the area gracing our walls. What exactly do you find soboring,as you say?”Sutton shrugged. “There’s no life. There’s no danger, no sense of challenge. The artists arecomfortable and it comes out in their work.”“I see,” Polk repeated, uncomfortable. “Well--““Tell me about the artist that left in tears...the girl.”Polk stared blankly. “The girl?”“Yeah, the one that left minutes ago. What’s her story?”Suddenly remembering, Polk gave a small dismissive shudder. “The fat one?”Sutton smiled coldly. “Yes.”Polk must’ve sensed he was on dangerous ground. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
  • zanotowane.pl
  • doc.pisz.pl
  • pdf.pisz.pl
  • lemansa.htw.pl