Warning: this collection contains 5 sexy age gap instalove romance short stories featuring young women and their determined alpha males! Includes Surprised by the Billionaire, Wedded to the Mobster, Noticed by My Boyfriend's Coach, Picked Up by the Mobster, and Kidnapped by the Billionaire.
Surprised by the Billionaire
Before I can lose my nerve, I wrap my arms around his neck and put my mouth on his.
Immediately, he kisses me back, placing his hand on the small of my back and thrusting his tongue between my lips.
I close my eyes, letting out a little groan. D*mn, he's a good kisser.
Oh my God, what am I doing? I force myself to open my eyes. I only kissed him to distract him. Well, he's definitely distracted now.
While his eyes are still closed, I move my hand toward the wallet in his pocket.
Just as I finger the black leather, he opens his eyes.
"What are you doing, Tiffany?" he asks in a low voice.
Wedded to the Mobster
Time starts to lose meaning. I don't know if he kisses me for several seconds or minutes.
All I know is that I find myself enjoying his kiss in spite of my best efforts not to.
When he finally lets me up for air, I practically collapse against his chest, feeling like I've just chugged an entire pitcher of margaritas.
He frowns. "Did you eat today?"
I mumble, "I had some yogurt."
My answer elicits a quiet growl of displeasure from him, which in turn elicits a shiver of fear from me.
When he scoops me up and marches down the aisle, my fear only increases. Is he going to take me into a room and force me to fulfill my wifely duties? Christ, just what have my parents gotten me into?
Noticed by My Boyfriend's Coach
Despite the situation and how terrible and embarrassing it is, I can't help noting how attractive my boyfriend's coach is. Talk about a slightly silver fox. He has hazel eyes that emit lingerie-melting heat, a chiseled face that any artist would die to capture, and a luscious head of almost black hair with a few gray strands. If I didn't have a (cowardly) boyfriend and/or wasn't a v*rgin with zero training in the art of sex, I would be tempted to seduce Coach Marks into letting me go back to my dorm without involving the cops or the dean.
Picked Up by the Mobster
"Fine, but I'm not going to let you stand here alone all night," he says.
I look at his Porsche. It's not a good idea to get into a car with a strange man, especially a strange man with a gun. But if I don't go with him, I'll have to sleep in my car by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Not a good idea for a woman and especially not a good idea for a petite Chinese woman.
Wondering if I'm going to regret this, I climb into the back of the Porsche.
Kidnapped by the Billionaire
This man might be handsome, but he's a psycho. "Um, who are you?" I ask.
"I'm Tristan Ashton."
I pale, instantly recognizing the name. My dad subscribes to a lot of business magazines, and they would often mention Tristan Ashton, the 50-something billionaire recluse who made his enormous fortune from developing a few medical devices. All kinds of rumors have swirled around him, including many unsavory ones.
What does he want with me?
Surprised by the Billionaire
Before I can lose my nerve, I wrap my arms around his neck and put my mouth on his.
Immediately, he kisses me back, placing his hand on the small of my back and thrusting his tongue between my lips.
I close my eyes, letting out a little groan. D*mn, he's a good kisser.
Oh my God, what am I doing? I force myself to open my eyes. I only kissed him to distract him. Well, he's definitely distracted now.
While his eyes are still closed, I move my hand toward the wallet in his pocket.
Just as I finger the black leather, he opens his eyes.
"What are you doing, Tiffany?" he asks in a low voice.
Wedded to the Mobster
Time starts to lose meaning. I don't know if he kisses me for several seconds or minutes.
All I know is that I find myself enjoying his kiss in spite of my best efforts not to.
When he finally lets me up for air, I practically collapse against his chest, feeling like I've just chugged an entire pitcher of margaritas.
He frowns. "Did you eat today?"
I mumble, "I had some yogurt."
My answer elicits a quiet growl of displeasure from him, which in turn elicits a shiver of fear from me.
When he scoops me up and marches down the aisle, my fear only increases. Is he going to take me into a room and force me to fulfill my wifely duties? Christ, just what have my parents gotten me into?
Noticed by My Boyfriend's Coach
Despite the situation and how terrible and embarrassing it is, I can't help noting how attractive my boyfriend's coach is. Talk about a slightly silver fox. He has hazel eyes that emit lingerie-melting heat, a chiseled face that any artist would die to capture, and a luscious head of almost black hair with a few gray strands. If I didn't have a (cowardly) boyfriend and/or wasn't a v*rgin with zero training in the art of sex, I would be tempted to seduce Coach Marks into letting me go back to my dorm without involving the cops or the dean.
Picked Up by the Mobster
"Fine, but I'm not going to let you stand here alone all night," he says.
I look at his Porsche. It's not a good idea to get into a car with a strange man, especially a strange man with a gun. But if I don't go with him, I'll have to sleep in my car by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Not a good idea for a woman and especially not a good idea for a petite Chinese woman.
Wondering if I'm going to regret this, I climb into the back of the Porsche.
Kidnapped by the Billionaire
This man might be handsome, but he's a psycho. "Um, who are you?" I ask.
"I'm Tristan Ashton."
I pale, instantly recognizing the name. My dad subscribes to a lot of business magazines, and they would often mention Tristan Ashton, the 50-something billionaire recluse who made his enormous fortune from developing a few medical devices. All kinds of rumors have swirled around him, including many unsavory ones.
What does he want with me?
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