Night for ruthless whispers: a bad boy billionaire romance ava damon download pdf
Night for Ruthless Whispers: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Ava Damon
Visit to download the full and correct content document: https://ebookmass.com/product/night-for-ruthless-whispers-a-bad-boy-billionaire-roma nce-ava-damon/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant download maybe you interests ...
Ruthless Villain: A Hockey Billionaire Romance Novel Faith Summers & Khardine Gray
She's the risk hanging on the edge of a knife I'm all too willing to dance on. After all, what's life without a bit of danger?
Kristine MurphyPrescottsoughtrefuge inmyclub and the storyinthose greeneyes calls to me. Her defiance, wrapped in vulnerability,demandsmyprotection,andignitesadesireIcan’texplain orignore
I'm battling my own demons, whispering she's better off without me But every touch, every stolen kiss, shatters my defenses,makingmecraveafutureIthoughtI'dneverhave.
Suddenly losing her is a risk I can't afford. She gives me a glimpse at a future I never dared dreamof, a promise of somethingworthfightingfor.
The security control room is my fortress of solitude, a dimly lit chamber lined with sleek, black panels and rows of monitors.EachmonitorisawindowintothepulsatinglifeofClubAllure.
Her delicate frame is draped over the bar counter, an untouched drink casting a long shadow beside her There's an elegance to her posture that belies her casual setting a dancer's grace in repose. Yet something's off. A tension in her shoulders,aninvisibleweightthatseemstobowhereversoslightly
AsIzoominonher face,mybreathcatchesatthesightofolive-greeneyesthatseemtoholdworldswithinthem deep and expressive, with a touch of melancholy that doesn’t belong in a place like this. Dark hair cascades down her back, untouchedbythestrobelights'freneticdance.
Aninexplicablepulltightensinmychest,aninstinctiveneedtoensureshe'ssafe.It'sunusual I'mnotoneforunnecessary intervention My days of playing hero are long past, burned away by too many disappointments But something about this womanstrikesachordwithinme,resonatinginafrequencyIthoughtI'dsilencedlongago.
Ileancloser to the screenas ifproximitycould grantme insightinto her story Her fingers tap anabsentrhythmonthe counter perhapsshe'swaitingforsomeone,ormaybeshewishestobeanywherebuthere.ThenInoticetwomenstaringat her.
Ipushbackfromtheconsole,everyinstincthonedfromyearsofwatchingoverthisclubtellingmethere'smorebeneaththe surface with this woman more than just another patron lost in the thrumming bass and whispered promises of fleeting connections.
The neonlights dance across the dance floor as the DJ plays a customblend ofthe hottestmusic onthe charts. Iweave throughthecrowd,makingpurposefulstridestothebar
Five years ago, Jackson, Landon, Damien, Andres, and myselfopened Club Allure, anelite club inNew YorkCity. We eachhavedesignatedtaskstoensureeverythingrunssmoothly.Ihandlethesafetyandsecurityofourhigh-profileguests. Itsuitsme
Still, Ican'tshake the feelingthatshe's here for a reasonbeyond justa nightout There’s somethingabouther a quiet strengthmaskedbyvulnerability thatresonateswithmeonalevelIcan'tquiteexplain.
But no, Ihave to remind myselfwhyI'mapproachingher inthe first place it's not because ofthe waymybodyleans toward hers or how my senses seem more acute with her mere presence. It's about ensuring her safety a task that falls squarelyonmyshoulders.
Iclose the distance betweenus justas one ofthe burlymenwho've beeneyeingher moves in, his unwelcome approach etchedclearlyonherfacebyalookoffear.Astarkcontrasttotheguestsdancingandlaughingaroundher.
“Howdareyouputyourhandsonme...”thewomanthreatensinastrong,determinedvoice. She has a temper,Ithink. “Comeon,Mrs Prescott Youknowthebossdoesn'tlikeyouhangingoutinclubswithouthim”
Asmallsmirkcreepsacrossmylips,andwithacalmauthorityinmytone,Iusetheearpiecetosummonmyteam.“Vince,I needthesegentlemenescortedout now They'repermanentlybannedfromClubAllure”
The big man and his partner immediately turn around, surveying the scene. At least four members of my security team approachthem
The stranger denies. “No. Withthemitwon'tdo anygood.” Agrimace furrows her perfectlips. “They're partlyright. I appreciatethehelp,butyou'ddowelltostayoutofit.Youdon'tknowwhoyou'remessingwith.”
Curious, Iraise aneyebrow. It's obvious thatshe's runningfromsomeone, and thatpersonintimidates her enoughto not wanttoinvolveanyoneinherproblems.
“Kristine,”Icallouttoher,drawingheralittleclosertomebecauseofthebustleoftheclub,tryingtoignoretheobvious chemistryfloatingbetweenus. “Iunderstand thatyoumaybe ina delicate situation, butIhave a feelingyoucan't, and don't wantto,spendthenighthidingherefromthemeither”
Kristine seems to hesitate for a moment, but finallysmiles “Probablythe little red ridinghood who kills the wolf, or someonewhorunsawayfromthevillain.ButIassureyou,I'mnottheprincesswhostandsstill,waitingtobesaved.” “ThenIdon'thavetosaveyou”
I SHIVER INVOLUNTARILY AS westepoutoftheclub'sbubbleofwarmthandthechillofthenightairbitesatmyskin BeforeI canprotest,Ethan'sjacketsettlesovermyshoulders.Asurprisinggestureofchivalryfromamanwhosesternexteriorsuggests anythingbut.Thefabriciswarmfromhisbodyandcarriesahintofhiscologne,awoodsyscentthatseemsascomplexand intriguingasthemanhimself
“This isn't necessary,” I insist, lookingup to meet his eyes. His gaze holds mine for a heartbeat too long, anunspoken challengeinthedepthsofthosebrownorbs
Ican'thelpbutnoticethewaythedimstreetlightscastshadowsacrosshisface,accentuatingthestronglineofhisjawand thecurlsthatdaretotrespassontohisforehead.He'shandsome undeniablyso andit'sinfuriatinghowmyheartdecidesto skip a beator two inhis presence Iscold myselfinternally;I've danced this dance before and know all too well where it leads.
Yetthere's somethingabouthimthatdraws me in Maybe it's the wayhe commands the space around him, anunspoken authorityemanatingfromhimthatseemstowhisperpromisesofsafetyandprotection.Orperhapsit'sthesheerphysicalityof him tallandwell-builtinawaythatspeaksofstrengthwithoutarrogance.
We walk in silence toward his car, and every step feels like a battle between my resolve and the magnetic pull I feel towardhim.Thenightwrapsaroundus,carryingawaythepulsingbeatofmusicfromClubAllureandleavingbehindaquiet thatfeelsheavywithwordsunsaid
As we drive, the cityblurs pastus a canvas streaked withcolors frompassingcars and neonsigns Mymind wanders backtoBrandon,toourmarriagethatwasnothingmorethanawell-constructedfaçade.
I study himout of the corner of my eye. There's an ease to his movements a relaxed grip on the steering wheel, an occasional glance inthe rearview mirror thatcontradicts the tensionIsensed inhimbackatClub Allure He drives with purposeyetwithouturgency,navigatingthroughtrafficasifheownseveryinchofthiscity.
Ethanis obviouslyolder thanme,althoughIfindhimnoless attractive He's probablyinhis late thirties,while I'monly twenty-seven.
Yethestill hasacertainyouthful air abouthiscountenance.Heistall,withdarkcurlyhair thathewearscroppedonthe sidesandalittlehigherontop,lookingslightlytousledandfashionable
Thecar slowsinfrontofoneofNew York'smostupscaleneighborhoods.Myluxuriouscage.Awaveofdisappointment washes over me the ride was too short, this strange interlude with Ethan is ending too soon But it’s for the best After Brandon’sbetrayal,trustisnotsomethingIgiveawayfreelyanymore.
I punch in the elevator code, a series of numbers I've done a thousand times, but now my fingers tremble. He doesn't commentonit,justwatchesthenumberslightuponebyone.
Weascendinsilence,thesofthumoftheelevatorlikealullabyI'mtoostrungouttoappreciate Ileanagainstthemirrored wall, catching our reflection. We look like opposites his dark and brooding figure next to my lighter frame but there's somethingeerilyrightaboutusstandingsidebyside
The hallway to my apartment is deserted, the plush carpet muffling our footsteps. Every door we pass is an unspoken reminderofneighborswhosleeppeacefully,oblivioustotheturmoilinmychest
The guards are outthere Brandon's henchmen and thoughtheycan'treachme here, their presence is a shackle Ican't shakeoff.
The door clicks open, and we step inside. The familiar sightofmylivingroomoffers no solace tonight. Everyshadow seemslikeahidingplaceforunseenthreats.Ethanmovespastme,surveyingthespacewithanexperiencedeye aprotector assessingpotentialdangers
Inodandwatchhimheadforthedoorwithslowsteps Butbeforeheleaves,Istophim “Wait,”Iask Myhandsettlesonthecrookofhisarm. What am I doing? Iwonder.Buttheinstanthiseyesmeetmine,IknowthatIdon't wanthimtoleave.
He doesn'tmove atfirst, doesn'tspeak Instead, Ethanstands there withanintensitythatseems to fill the room, to wrap aroundmeinawaythat'sbothterrifyingandexhilarating.Icanseethegearsturningbehindthoseeyes,thecarefulweighingof myrequest
He doesn't finish the sentence, but he doesn't have to. The implication hangs in the air palpable and charged with possibility Ashiverrunsthroughme notfromfearbutfromsomethingelseentirely “Yes,”Icutinbeforedoubtcanpoisonmyresolve.“I'msure.”
AsEthansettlesontomycouchwithaneasethatbeliesthetensionwe'rebothfeeling,Irealizehowmuchthismeans how much he meansalready.Inthiscityfull ofpeople,he'sbecomemyislandinastormysea,theonethingstandingbetweenme andthechaoswaitingjustoutsidemydoor
I'mnotnaive enoughto thinkthis changes anythingaboutmycomplicated life or the battles yetto come. Butfor tonight, withEthanCallahanchoosingtostaybymyside,Ifeel somethinglike hope stirringwithin Adangerous thingfor a heartas batteredasmine.
Myhead moves forward a little, tilts, and thenIwait. Ifhe wants this, will he take the laststep and bridge the distance betweenus?
For a momentnothinghappens, butthenEthancomes closer. The softbutfirmtouchofhis mouthfinds mine, and a sigh leavesmymouth Ibegintokisshim,notknowinghowwegottothismomentbutalsohopinghewon’tstop.
Ethan's hands wrap around mywaist Slowly, almost as if he intends to prolongthe sensations betweenus as muchas possible,hesqueezesandholdsmeagainsthisbody,causinganunexpectedmoanofsurprisetoleavemylips. Hepullsawayforamoment,hisforeheadrestingagainstmine.“Tellmeifyouwishmetostop.” “Pleasedon'tstop”
Hislipsfindmineagainandhenimblyliftsmeupashepullsmetightagainsthisbody. And,asmylegswraparoundhiships,IdiscoverthatthisisexactlywhatIwant, what I need It’sbeentoolongsincethelasttimeIfeltlikethis,temptedbyamantothepointofwantingtogivemyselfawayforeven onenight Toforgeteverything,myname,mydivorce,andmyex'sthreats Iwanttolosemyselfinsomeoneelse. In him.
CHAPTER THREE
ETHAN
MY HANDS GLIDEwitheaseoverKristine'sAphrodite-likefigure
“Good,”Istandupandslowlypulloffmyshirtandpants,enjoyingherimpatienceashereyesdevourmeprovocatively. She watches mycockas itis exposed, erectand withprecumbeadingatthe tip, eager to sinkdeep into her. One ofher eyebrowsrises.
She groans loudly, buckingagainstmyface as Idevour her pussylike it's dinner She throws her head back, her fingers twistinginmyhair,diggingintomyscalp.
One ofmyhands slips betweenher legs and begins to caress her as the other moves up to her breasts to manipulate the erectnipples.Thatwastheappetizer,nowI'mgettingherreadyforthemaincourse.
Her moanblends withmygroan. Ipull backslightly, makingher whimper inprotest before Iplunge backinagain, her warmthencasingme.She'ssoftandwet,andsofuckingtightmybodyshuddersatthefeelofhergrippingme.
“You'resotight,”Igroan,slidingmyhandsdowntoherhipsandgrippingthemtightly “Fuck ” Her breathhitchesasIgripher shoulder,pumpinginandoutofher.Iwatchher breastsjigglewiththemotionwitheach thrust Imovemyhandtoherclit,circlingitwithmythumbasIpushdeeper
My eyes lock onto hers. She watches me intently, mouth slightly open, eyes filled with desire and lust. I feel her heat envelopingme,herwetnesscoatingmycockasIstarttomovefaster,harder.
Ismile downat her, takingher lips ina bruisingkiss as Ithrust into her Her hips buckup to meet mine and her body tremblesunderneathme.Thesweetscentofherarousal fillsmynostrils,andIcan'thelpbutpull herintoanotherdemanding kiss.
Judging by his attire, he must be on his way to work Club Allure is not far away, just around the corner, so I'mnot surprisedtoseehim.Whatdoessurprisemeisthesternlookonhisface.
EthangentlynudgesmeawayfromhimandwemakeourwaytowardClubAllure.“Whatareyoudoinghere?” “I was out for my morning walk and somehow I found myself halfway to see you,” I confess. “I guess... I just got distracted”
“DexterWhitmoreisnotthekindofpersonyoushouldgetdistractedaround,”heclaimswithavehementbutdetermined tone “Jealous?”Iinquirewithasmile.
Time seems to stand still as we explore eachother withanurgencythatspeaks volumes. His other hand trails downmy back,tracingthelineofmyspinethroughthefabricofmycoatbeforerestingonmywaist.It'sapossessiveholdthattellsme I'mexactlywhereIbelong.
I've never been kissed like this before like I'ma treasure that he's afraid to lose It's both exhilarating and terrifying because with each passing second, I realize more and more how much I want this man. How much I crave his touch, his presence
Kristine's voice is softbutlivelyas she speaks to her son. I'mcaptured bythe subtle shifts inher tone, the warmththat seemstopourthroughherwords.It'sanintimatedisplay,onethathintsatamaternallovethat’sprofoundandunconditional.
Classical music plays in the background. Vivaldi's strings swell with aching beauty, each note resonating in the highceilingedroom Fillingthespacewithanauraofbothgraceandmelancholy
For a moment, I'mlost in the interplay of sound, the way it weaves through the clinking of utensils in the kitchen, her muffledlaughter,andthedistanthumofthecitybelow
Kristine hesitates, a blushwarmingher cheeks.Emotions flitacross her face, her eyes darkenwithmemories before she steelsherself Theworldoutsidemoveson,indifferenttoherturmoil
“Brandoncan'tacceptdefeat,andwhenmyfolksthreatenedtofilecharges,hesigned.Butnotbeforemakingmepayforthe bad press” Kristine states, playfully pushing the ravioli back and forth on her plate “He doesn't particularly like it, the rejectionorthatthedivorcegavehimverybadpublicity.Sohe'spunishingmebytakingawaytheonethingIwantfromhim.” “Yourson”
She folds over, her sobs fillingthe silence. Iround the table and gather her inmyarms, kissingthe top ofher head. The roomfeelssmaller,moreintimate,asifhervulnerabilityandthetruthbehindithavesuckedtheairfromtheapartment
“Don't cry, sweetheart. I'm here.” My embrace tightens, my resolve to shield her from any more harm is fierce and unwavering “He'spressingforsharedcustody”
Kristine sighs. “I have money, but he has power. People protect himwhile he makes me look like a negligent mother. Thankfully,he'sscaredofmyparents.Butitdoesn'tstophimfromfuckingwithme.”
That Kristine's life has become enmeshed with a man whose madness knows no bounds, a man driven by control and corruption,andI'mfiercelyresolvedtobe her sanctuary.Her shelter fromthe stormofhis tyranny.Thattime holds nosway
It is no longer tears that quicken her breathing but our kisses, salty and sweet tasting at the same time It's her tongue tanglingwithmine.Herlegssettlingintomysidesassheclimbsovermyhips,causingherbrownleatherskirttorideupher thighswithhermovementsuntilherheatrubsagainstmycock
It'sinsane,butIunderstand.It'saprimalneed.
Food,security…sex.
Rushed hands undo the buttons ofmyshirt Ipushher skirtup until Ifeel the satinofher panties brushmyfingers She unzipsmypants,releasingmyachingerection.Irollonacondom.
Her bodytrembles slightlyunderneathmine, and Icanfeel her muscles contractingaround me, pullingme closer. It's a feelingunlikeanythingI'veexperiencedbefore raw,primal, urgent.
I don't know how I'll stop it, but I know that whenI set a goal, nothingstops me fromachievingit, and right now, her protectionisallthatmatters.
CHAPTER SIX
KRISTINE
“COME WITH ME,”Ethanwhisperstheinvitationacrossmylips,nudgingmeonward Achuckleescapesme.Themanhasmefeelingandactinglikeayounger,lessjadedversionofmyself.“Ithingesonone thing.Doyoutrulybelievethisiswise?”
Theclubunfoldsbeforemeinlayersofsensoryindulgence.Myeyesroam,drinkingintheopulence amosaicofmoving bodies cast inthe glow of rovingspotlights The dance floor is a sea of undulation, a hypnotic blend of motionand music wherestrangersbecomepartofacollectivepulse.
Icanfeel Ethan's gaze onme, perhaps gaugingmyreaction His thumb strokes the backofmyhand, a small gesture that speaksvolumes.Inthisrealmhe'screated,heremainsanenigma bothkingandguardian.Heleanscloser,hisbreathwarm againstmyear.
“Welcome to myworld,” he murmurs, and there's a hint of pride mingled withsomethingelse vulnerability? It's gone beforeIcandissectitfurther.
We reachanintimate table nestled ina secluded corner. Itoffers a panoramic view ofthe club's vibrantlifeblood the dancefloor whileallowingjustenoughprivacyfortwopeopletoexistintheirownlittlebubble.
The tabletop gleams under low-hanging lights that cast everything in a soft golden hue He pulls out a chair for me chivalrousgesturescomenaturallytohim andIsinkintotheplushcushioning.Ethansettlesacrossfromme,hisbrowneyes holdingminewithanintensitythatsendsaripplethroughmychest
The wine tastes richand complexonmytongue. Eachsip is like peelingbackanother layer of Club Allure’s perfectly crafted appeal Mygaze lingers onEthan, observingas he surveys the surroundings a vigilantguardian, always alerteven amidthefestivities.
“Comewithme?”There’snocommandinhistonenow onlyaninvitationlacedwithdesire. Risingtomeethim,Iplacemyhandinhisonceagain aperfectfit andallowhimtoleadmetowardthedancefloor My pulse quickens as we approach. It’s not fear that propels it now but anticipation the thrill ofbeingdrawndeeper into his world
“Ihavenodoubtyouwillsucceed,”Istate,clinkingmyglasswithhis Ethan cuddles up next to me and drapes his armover my back. “Thank you for agreeing to come with me today,” he whispersashislipskissthecurveofmyneck
“This is the party of the year.” I give hima mischievous look. “And... how could I resist when I received a personal invitationforaveryhandsomebadboy?”
Aflicker of recognition dances in his eyes, and I can't help but brace myself for the usual onslaught of whispers and judgment.Sevenyearsundertheharshspotlightasapolitician'swifehastaughtmetoexpectit,toalwaysbeonguard.
Iforceasmile,feelingEthan'sthumbbrushagainstmyhandinsilentsupport “Thatwasanother life,”Ireply It'strue sincethedivorce,I'vebeenworkinghardtoshedthatoldskin,toredefinewhoKristineStern-Prescottisonherownterms. Jacksonseems to pickup onmydiscomfort and gracefullychanges the subject. “Well, it's a pleasure to meet younow. Ethanhasn'tstoppedtalkingaboutyou”
Ethan's gaze locks with mine, a stormof emotions swirling in those deep brown eyes. It's disarming how quickly he's becomemysafeharboramidallthischaos
The room buzzes with energy as more guests filter into the private space The club beyond is alive with music and movement avibrantcontrasttotherelativecalmofoursecludednook.
Smiling, I tuck my hair to the side of my face and finish my makeup. It's been a long time since I've felt like this, so attractiveandcomfortablewithmyself,andIlovethefeeling.
ButBrandonfollows me. His hand closes around mywristagain, and the other presses againstmyneck. He pushes me againsttheclosedrefrigeratordoorsandstaresintomyeyes
Adarkchuckle escapes himas he steps back, givingme roomto breathe butnotto relax. “We're over whenIsaywe're over.”Hisgazedriftsovermelikeaphysicaltouch onethatleavesatrailoffilthonmyskin.
I'mtremblingnow, whether fromrage or fear, Ican'ttell Maybe it's both The memories flood back his manipulative words,hiscontrollinghands,hiscoldindifferencetoeverythingbuthisowndesires.
The clink of fine china and the murmur of conversation swirl around us, a symphony of high-society dining at Cibo Italiano.It'saplacethatcommandsattentionwithitsgildedmirrorsandcrystalchandelierscastingawarmglow overevery meticulouslysettable Yet, despite the opulence envelopingus, Kristine seems adrift, her spirituntethered fromthe moment we'resharing.
Thewaiterarriveswithourappetizers aduoofscallopssearedtoperfection,restingonabedofpureedcauliflowerwith a drizzle of aged balsamic. The scent alone is enough to draw a sigh from anyone who appreciates culinary artistry. Yet Kristinemerelyoffersitanabsentsmilebeforeturningbacktofaceme.
“Ethan,” she starts again, thenhesitates. I cansee the internal struggle playingout across her face the dance between disclosureandrestraint.
The flavors ofmyowndishbarelyregister as Iwaitfor her to continue The warmthofthe restaurantseems to cool by degrees witheachpassingsecond ofsilence. Kristine is poised as ever inher elegance her darkhair cascadinginwaves overhershoulders,framingherfacethatcouldinspiresonnets andyetit'sasifshe'smilesaway
“Something happened between that phone call and you getting in my car,” I say finally, not as an accusation but as an invitationforhertrust.“Whateveritis,youdon'thavetocarryitalone.”
