Taking Control (Holidays With The Boss #1) Read Online Tory Baker

Categories Genre: Erotic, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Holidays With The Boss Series by Tory Baker
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Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
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Kingston Thomas knows better, he shouldn’t want Tessa Drake. That doesn’t stop him from going after her once she’s home from college.

She’s forbidden fruit, off-limits, and un-freaking touchable, she’s also my daughter’s best friend. I walked away the first time years ago. She had her life ahead of her, I wasn’t going to be the one to screw it up. Now she’s back seeking a job at my law firm, all grown up in one delicious package and I know I won’t be able to keep my hands off of her.

You saw a glimpse of Kingston in the Vegas After Dark Series, now he’s back with his own book in this multi-author collaboration. Are you ready for an all new stand alone that includes forced proximity, billionaire romance with an age gap? If so, Tory has a book right up your alley.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

Kingston

Three years earlier

I should be in jail. The thoughts that have been running on repeat through my head, there’s nothing sweet or heartfelt about the images, more than illegal in states around the country. I should know. I’m an attorney. Sure, it’s in the entertainment field; it still falls under the scope of the law which was hammered into my brain years ago during my years in college. Over a decade later, and I should clearly recite it, verbatim, because it’s doing little to no good at the party I’m currently hosting. The people walking around are young, nearly twenty years younger than myself. All in various states of dress—some in bathing suits, some in shorts, and others in dresses. It’s then that she catches my eye. I know better; the girl was trying to bait me long before today. It doesn’t stop me from wanting something that doesn’t belong to me. That’s not the worst part either. What I once thought was all in my head definitely isn’t. It all started before now; today, it just so happens to be that this girl is doing more than just talking to me in her usual way, asking me how I’m doing, what’s going on at the law firm while she’s waiting. Nope, she’s doing a shit ton more and has me hiding inside the house away from everything, everyone, mostly her though. It’s all getting to me, plus the light touches as she passed by me in the barely-there bikini with strings on both sides of the hips, tying around her neck and back. It’s only a matter of time until I take the small innuendos at face value. That’s why I head to the wet bar in my home office, pull out the bottle of Macallan I save for special occasions, knowing the beer I usually partake around this setting isn’t going to scratch the surface. The noise from outside finally stops; there’s not a dozen people talking, dancing, and singing. It’s fucking peaceful. That doesn’t mean I get to hide out forever, the issue being I’m the one hosting the party in the first place.

I make quick work of pouring myself a few fingers of the Macallan knowing that enjoying the flavors of fresh ginger, dark berries, smooth caramel, pepper, and a chocolate undertone will be wasted. Taking the edge off is the only thing I’m concerned about. Maybe then the temptation won’t burn me so brightly. I’m making it to the window. Just because touching is out of the question doesn’t mean I can’t look, and that’s exactly what I’m doing while taking a sip of my drink, holding myself back from tossing the amber-colored liquid down my throat in one go, feeling the burn, and enjoying it. She’s playing with fire. The only difference in the saying is that while it would usually guarantee me burning in the flames, I’d bring her right along with me. My eyes notice one person out of the throng of bodies is missing. I take a deep breath thinking that she heeded my warning, but luck isn’t on my side, it seems.

The soft footfalls, the way she hesitates before closing the door and walking closer. I’m surrounded by her scent of soft warm vanilla mixed with sugar. There’s not a chance in hell I’d deny myself given the opportunity.

“You shouldn’t be here. You should be out there with the others.” I don’t turn around; instead, I bring my crystal-cut glass to my mouth, finishing the rest of it, all while I listen to her close the door softly before stepping further inside.

“And if this is where I’d rather be?” Her smooth-as-silk Voice, wrapped in forbidden temptation, carries through the room, and still my eyes are focused in front of me, hoping like hell she’ll get the memo to walk back out the same way she came. That thought is shot to hell when her body slides across the front of mine, placing the now empty glass next to where she’s situated on the ledge of the windowsill. A shiver slides up her body as her mostly naked body settles on the marble beneath her ass.



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