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#about soap worshipping price and him just slowly losing it after he comes back and breaks his perception of him as a god
s0fter-sin · 6 months
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youth by daughter is 09 soap in mw3, bitter and defeated after losing ghost, talking to 22 soap who’s so hopeful and secretly in love with his lieutenant
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joyffree · 6 years
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RELEASE BLITZ Title: The Billionaire’s Claim: Obsession Series: The Billionaire’s Claim #1 Author: Nadia Lee Genre: Contemporary Romance Release Date: April 26, 2018
BLURB
DOMINIC
Elizabeth Pryce-Reed.
An angel. A virgin. My first love.
I fell for her hard and fast ten years ago...and paid the price on a night of shattering betrayal.
So I built a billion-dollar empire out of vengeance...
And now I'm coming for her.
ELIZABETH
Dominic King.
A maverick. A self-made billionaire. My soul mate.
Ten years ago, he shredded my heart, even as he vowed he'd take what matters most to me.
I know he's coming, and I welcome it. I need closure for what happened that night.
But the more time I spend with him, the more I wonder...
Can I ever move on...?
Note: This is the first book in The Billionaire's Claim duet.
GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/38733446-the-billionaire-s-claim
PURCHASE LINKS
US: https://amzn.to/2qUMLE9 UK: https://amzn.to/2HXZka8 CA: https://amzn.to/2Ka50yg AU: https://amzn.to/2HXZpdW B&N: http://bit.ly/2JiKslV Kobo: http://bit.ly/2vBeC24 iBooks: https://apple.co/2Hmy8At Google Play: http://bit.ly/2JlkXjQ
EXCERPTS
#1
"Do you really go by Elizabeth with everyone?" I ask, enjoying the smooth taste of the vodka. "No nickname?"
"Yeah. Everyone calls me that, except this one cousin who calls me Eliza. I think he felt rebellious when he was younger, you know? And it stuck. With him, anyway."
She's probably wrong about her cousin. Elizabeth is too formal a name for this woman. She's too vivacious, too open and too sexy. She needs a shorter, snappier name.
"But..." She knocks back the second shot of vodka. "You can call me Liza. Nobody calls me that, and I think it suits me better than Elizabeth or Eliza, don't you?"
I nod, ridiculously pleased I'm going to get my own name for her.
"So what's your name?" she asks.
"Dominic."
"Nice. I like it." She smiles and runs a fingertip along my lips as she leans forward. "Can I call you something else, though?"
I feel the touch like an electric shock. My heart thuds. "Like what?"
"Mine."
#2
I lose the track of my friends' conversation as the fine hair at my nape bristles -- not unpleasantly -- and my gaze lands on the sole bartender on the other side of the counter.
Everything fades away except him.
I've met handsome men, hot men, aristocratic men, charming men on both sides of the Atlantic. My family alone has four brothers and four cousins who make women stupid with their looks. Having grown up around such male beauty, I've always considered myself immune -- able to appreciate it without turning into some kind of infatuated drooler.
But the bartender...
Everything about him is absurd.
The absurd perfection of his bone structure. The absurd blue of his eyes. The absurd firmness of his lips. The absurd muscularity of his big, strong body.
When our gazes collide, I feel like every cell in my body is waking up after a lifetime of slumber. My heart beats a little bit faster, a little bit harder. Blood flows a little quicker, a little hotter.
Is this sexual attraction?
I shake my head inwardly. I've felt attraction to guys before. But nothing like this. This man shines like a brilliant gemstone, like the heavens opened up and a halo appeared around him.
Then I remember what Grandpa used to say.
"When I first met your grandmother, I knew she was the one."
"How?" I asked. An exceptional artist, Grandpa has a propensity for exaggeration and dramatic flair.
"Because she made me forget where I was. Every time I laid eyes on her, nothing else mattered. Colors were brighter, food tasted better, and the air felt cleaner. All because I met her."
I laughed. "That's just infatuation, Grandpa."
He shook his head. "No, no, my little angel. It's called love. My soul recognized hers."
I tried not to laugh at such a ridiculous story. On the other hand, Grandpa's first marriage lasted until the death of his wife in a sailing accident. And by all accounts, they adored each other.
Suddenly Vanessa taps my elbow. "Earth to Elizabeth. Come on." She tilts her shiny red head toward the bar. "We're sitting at the counter."
Apparently the decision has been made. "Okay." I park my butt across from the bartender, Grandpa's words about soul mates circling in my head.
Because if this bartender's mine, he's popped up at the most inconvenient time and the most inconvenient location.
#3
I cut and toast the bagels, Liza's first. After spreading a generous amount of cream cheese, Liza takes a big bite, then moans around the food.
The satisfied sound causes my dick to swell as though we didn't roll around in bed for hours last night.
Five orgasms -- a new record.
Right now, my half-hard cock says we should go for six.
She swallows. "I haven't had a good bagel since I came home."
"How come?" I want her fed before seducing her again.
"Mom's not a fan of carbs." Exasperation crosses her face. "She thinks they'll make me blow up."
"Pssh." Liza is model slim with curves in all the right places. Her mother's gotta be crazy to think she needs to watch her diet. "Eat what you like."
Liza polishes off the last bite. "Seriously? You aren't going to scream and run the other way if I blow up like..." She spreads her arms, elbows straight.
"More of you to kiss and lick."
Her eyes sparkle. "That's nice. And such a smooth line."
"It's not a line."
And it's actually not. I mean it. I've had beautiful girls, awkward girls, confident girls, bratty girls, sweet girls, but none of them measure up to Liza. She has the power to make all other women fade away, and it has nothing to do with her weight or appearance. It's something as fundamental and innate as the air we share.
If I were the woo-woo type, I would say it's her soul.
Liza looks away for a moment, biting into her lip. There's a fleeting sadness in her that comes and goes, and I don't like it. I raise a hand, trace the curve of her cheekbone with my thumb and then, very carefully, cradle her face. She places a hand over mine, her eyes fluttering closed. She looks so vulnerable, so lovely.
Before I can pull her in for a kiss, she takes a deep breath and gives me a smile brilliant enough to make the gears my head stutter. "I'll hold you to that."
#4
Elizabeth reaches over and runs her fingers along my thigh. Her scent -- vanilla and lavender -- tickles my nose. An electric charge sizzles at the base of my spine, and heated blood pumps hard through my veins. "You going to start the car or what?" She smiles, her cheeks flushed.
Logic and good intentions grow fuzzy. I don't hook up with women I meet at the bar. I want to set a good example for my baby sister so she knows to look for a guy who'll take her seriously and treat her well. And I'm usually just too busy with life -- college courses, taking care of my sister and working two jobs.
But with Elizabeth, none of that matters. The only thing is her being with me...and the undercurrent of instinctive knowledge that if I end this now, she's going to slip away, never to be seen again.
My mouth dry, I speed toward my place, half an hour from the bar. I don't run any red lights, but it's pretty close a couple of times.
She laughs softly. "Love it that you're impatient."
"Do you?"
"You want me."
"What man wouldn't?"
She grows wistful. "Not everyone wants me."
"You've been with the wrong men."
She opens her mouth, then instead of saying anything, drags her teeth along her lower lip.
#5
"Don't cry." Dominic's thumb brushes away tears I didn't realize I'd shed, and I look at him. My heart is breaking again. I miss this touch... The tenderness, the caring.
I close my eyes, overwhelmed by old grief and the need for any scrap of affection. Nobody knows me the way Dominic does. Nobody ever had my love like he did.
He used to be the center of my universe. The whole celestial vault -- it was all him. I should've kidnapped him, just dragged him away by his hair, using whatever means necessary. Then I'd still have the sun, the moon and the stars.
Except I know it was the right thing for him to stay. Running away with me wouldn't have given him what he needed to fulfill his dream, give him the life he imagined.
Da-dum, da-dum, da-dum. My heart beats, the throb so hard and painful I can feel it all the way to my fingertips. My eyelids lower. That way I don't have to see the hate and disgust in his eyes...but can still bask in the heat from his body, smell the malt, spices and soap on him.
Then I feel it -- his lips on mine. My mind is so sluggish I don't even know who started the kiss, but I don't care.
The touch is tentative at first, more of a stolen breath...barely there. I hold myself as still as possible, afraid he's going to pull away.
His lips continue to move over mine, feather soft and sweet -- like he's afraid to spook me. The heat from his mouth slowly warms my lips, and I tremble as the rest of my body starts to thaw, my senses spinning.
"Breathe, Elizabeth," he whispers against a corner of my mouth, still using only his lips to tease me.
Only then do I realize I've been holding my breath. I inhale shakily, and he runs his tongue along my lower lip.
A tide of longing spreads through me. My fingers fist around his shirt, pulling him closer. I part my lips, stroke his tongue with mine. He boldly slides his tongue in, and a hot bolt of lust crackles through me, chasing away the chill and ugly memories. I suck on his tongue, desperately wanting to cling to the hot need and sense of safety.
This is probably just temporary, and might just be sex, but I want it. My starving body wants it.
#6
Dominic lavishes the same tender care to my other breast, as though he wants to make all my hurt go away. A cold sliver of guilt pierces the haze of pleasure.
You don't deserve this.
And I don't. I don't deserve to have him worship my body like he used to. I don't deserve any of this comfort, this warmth, this tenderness. I'm being selfish, using him to salve my old wound.
His lips leave a hot trail, tickling my navel and kissing my belly. Slowly he pulls my bikini bottom down my legs...and off. I feel his heated breath over my inner thighs, his lips traveling from my knee to my slick core.
And I know what he's about to do. He always loved to drive me crazy with his mouth between my legs. And suddenly, I don't want that -- I can't have that.
"Make it hurt," I say, my voice breaking.
He pauses, raising his head. "What?"
"Make me hurt. Please."
His thumb brushing over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, he looks into my eyes. His pupils are so dark and intense, I feel like I'm being stripped layer by layer, revealing how little I have now. Because I have nothing -- no heart, no soul.
What I have is a mask that I've perfected over the years. I know I look like a woman with a big heart and gentle soul when I put it on, even though it doesn't fool Dominic. He can see what's underneath.
AUTHOR BIO
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Nadia Lee writes sexy, emotional contemporary romance. Born with a love for excellent food, travel and adventure, she has lived in four different countries, kissed stingrays, been bitten by a shark, ridden an elephant and petted tigers.
Currently, she shares a condo overlooking a small river and sakura trees in Japan with her husband and son. When she’s not writing, she can be found reading books by her favorite authors or planning another trip.
Stay in touch with her via her website, http://www.nadialee.net, or her blog http://www.nadialee.net/blog
AUTHOR LINKS
Website: http://www.nadialee.net Newsletter: http://www.nadialee.net/vip Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/nadialeewrites Facebook Group: http://www.facebook.com/groups/nadialee Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/nadialee Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/nadialee Bookbub: http://www.bookbub.com/authors/nadia-lee Amazon: http://amazon.com/author/nadialee
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