Gold - Linde K. A. (версия книг .TXT) 📗

Bryna didn’t need the money or riches or trips. She didn’t need any of it.

It’d turned out that the only thing she really needed to make her life better was Eric. With him, everything else seemed to fall into place.

And as they toasted to their first year together, Bryna knew all would be well.

The End

FIND OUT WHERE IT ALL STARTED FOR BRYNA IN DIAMONDS (ALL THAT GLITTERS, #1).

Amazon

TURN THE PAGE FOR A SNEAK PEEK OF K.A. LINDE’S NEXT BOOK COMING THIS FALL.

Struck from the Record

(Record, #4)

A standalone novel from Senator Brady Maxwell brother, Clay’s point of view.

Struck from the Record

Chapter 1

“FUCK!” she screamed.

Her head fell backward into the heavy law books with an audible smack. Clay leveraged her body against the bookshelf as he thrust upward. His hands gripped her bare ass where he’d shoved the tiny green thing she considered a dress out of the fucking way. Their bodies smacked together, and her screams were growing more insistent.

Clay hadn’t said much. He didn’t have to. She was going to come over the adrenaline of getting fucked against a bookcase in his clerk office at the Supreme Court. She hadn’t believed he actually worked there, and so he had set out to prove her wrong. Since his term as a clerk had come to a close, he figured fucking her was a fitting going away present.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she yelled, loud enough that he was sure her echoes were carried down the hallway.

He didn’t care. It was the middle of the night, a week before Christmas, and no one else was here. Even the diligent, annoying douche who worked for Justice Scalia hadn’t been here when Clay had taken her into the building.

Clay leaned forward into her and pounded forcefully, until she reached her climax, and her screams died out. He liked vocal women, but sometimes screaming into his ear made it fucking difficult to concentrate. Now with her fucking quiet, he focused on getting himself off, which really had been the whole point.

“Jesus Christ,” she said breathily. “Fuck me. You’re going to make me go a second time.”

“Shut up,” he said forcefully. He hauled her off the bookshelf, walked her over to his desk, and threw her back down on the scattered mess that he would have to deal with later this week.

She groaned. “Make me.” Her eyes glistened. “Choke me.”

His eyebrows rose. He’d expected the girl to be a slut, but he hadn’t anticipated kink.

Whatever. I’m in.

His hand reached out and wrapped around her throat. Her eyes fluttered closed in pleasure. He hadn’t even done anything. He was just holding her like a doll he was about to shake around.

With his hand positioned at her throat, he drilled into her at a bruising pace. She was making mewling noises, and with him in complete control of her, he found them hot. This was a better view too. He could stare at her tits. She had a seriously nice rack. That was why he’d let her question him when he’d said he worked for the Supreme Court. It was fun to have people look at him in disbelief. Much better than when they recognized his name.

He was close at this point. Without asking if she was about to hit her second climax, he tightened his grip on her body and came inside of her. He shook as he finished. His breath was coming out in heavy bursts. It had taken more effort than he normally expelled with her screams still ringing in his ears.

He removed the grip on her throat and was surprised to find a red handprint where he had been holding her. He must have been clutching her harder than he thought. She probably would like if she ended up with bruises.

Clay pulled out and trashed the condom. He turned his back on her and adjusted his black suit. After this rendezvous, he’d have to send it to the dry cleaners.

When he faced her once more, the girl was still lying on the desk. He gave her a once over in appreciation of her mostly naked form, still laid out, and unable to move. She looked spent and exhausted, but it was time for her to get the fuck out of his office.

“All right. Let’s go,” he said briskly.

She sat up on her elbows and gave him a seductive look. “What about round two?”

“I appreciate your vote of confidence,” he said sarcastically. “I might be Casanova, but I don’t have another one in me right now.”

“Well, come on, Casanova. Let’s go to your place, and we can have seconds and thirds. I’m suddenly ravenous.” Her eyes glittered with excitement. Her body was still flushed from the vigorous fucking.

“I don’t think so,” Clay said, suddenly bored. It had been fun when it was a challenge. He liked challenges, but this was too easy. He could pick up any girl at a bar if he wanted to. At least put some fucking effort into it.

She pouted, but had enough dignity to not say anything else. She immediately covered herself up and followed him out. He got her safely into a cab, and then took his own back to his townhouse. Once it reached their destination, he absentmindedly threw the driver a twenty. His place was convenient as it was only short distance from his work. He enjoyed the bachelor feel to the place, but tonight it felt cold and uninviting. Maybe he should have taken up that girl on her offer. As soon as the thought hit his mind, he knew that he never would have gone through with it.

He had spent his life constantly on the edge between recklessness and complete control. He had a game plan—top of his class at Yale, clerk at the Supreme Court, federal judge, attorney general. Thinking of it both excited him and made him feel sick. He wanted to live up to the man his father expected him to be, but following the mold made him crazy. It was a double-edged sword. A line he constantly skirted.

That girl had been an immediate pleasure, a reckless pleasure…not one needed to indulge in a second time to discover anything more about her. She had been a treat for completing his clerkship and moving one step closer on his path. But tomorrow, he would have to clear out his desk and get serious about deciding which private practice offer he would accept to begin in January.

He had been staring at the three offers for over a week now, and they would be expecting an answer by Christmas…maybe New Year’s at the latest. He would push it back if he could. Recklessness was creeping up into his game plan all over again.

But not tonight.

He shrugged out of his suit coat and walked to his wet bar. He passed over the hard liquor and cracked open a beer. He’d already had a few drinks tonight, but the beer didn’t seem to quench his thirst. He knew it had something to do with his clerkship coming to a close. Another thing completed on a checklist. It didn’t seem fulfilling in the way it had when he had been accepted.

Clay stood and fished his cell phone out of his pocket. Maybe he should go home to Andrea tonight. It might be nice to get out of the city for a bit. Spend some time in a real house, even if it was in the D.C. suburbs and not at his place in Chapel Hill.

He dialed Andrea’s number and waited for her to answer. It clicked over to voicemail. He scowled down at the phone. “What the fuck?”

Then it almost immediately lit up again.

“Can I help you?” Andrea asked curtly, when he answered the phone.

Clay cracked a smile. There’s my bitch. “Hey babe, I’m coming home tonight. Are you there? I’m tired of the city.”

“And what was her name that made you so tired?” she asked. Her voice was high and musical just like he had always found it these past fourteen years they had known each other.