What had she been thinking? Anya shoved the door to her favourite midnight coffee haunt open with a huff. Honestly, teasing a cage fighter and then taking off, leaving him with a dick that could pound wood. She hadn't meant to make out with the guy. He was just so arrogant and masculine, with a body built like a tank and a deep voice that probably made panties drop everywhere he went. Who could blame a girl for getting a little carried away? Anya dropped into a chair, crossed her legs and tried not to squirm. Just the thought of Ash running naked through that change room after her had her body amping back up again, ready for more of those delicious orgasms. She had never felt anything near this level of attraction before and she wasn't certain she liked it. "Thanks babe," she said absently, when her friend Claudia placed a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of her. Claudia raised her eyebrow, sensing something was off with her usually chatty, sarcastic friend. Claudia's abi

The explicit request coming from those perfect lips of hers was too much. Ash swung her back around on the stool, picked her up by the waist and set her ass on the counter. He kicked the stool away and forced his way into the warmth of her body. He yanked her tiny spaghetti strap shirt down, revealing small breasts that were, to his surprise and intense pleasure, not confined by a bra. "Fuck yeah," he growled, immediately palming one of her breasts in a huge hand. "I'm going to make you come so hard, it'll make the locker room look like child's play." She moaned and tipped her head back, the vibrant blue tips touching the counter top. Her silken skin filled his rough hands. The way her body moved against him, expressing her pleasure, made his head swim and his dick grow so hard against the zipper of his jeans he thought he might explode in his pants. "Can't wait, baby," he mumbled, reaching under her skirt and yanking her panties down her legs. They caught on her boots. He pulled

Anya didn't realize she'd fallen in love with the asshole until he'd taken her suggestion and walked away. Like the few others she had bothered to care about, he walked away from the little sister of the mob boss because she was a complication that nobody needed. This time it hurt more than all the rest combined. "Let's go," she said to Boris, turning around and heading for the door. When she headed toward her dark purple Camaro, Boris stopped her. "You ride with me," he said in heavily accented English, his voice deep and clipped. "Boss would have my ass if you wrecked because of bad temper." Anya laughed a little and handed her keys to one of the other guys. She took Boris' arm and walked with him to the black SUV parked at the curb of the casino. "You always know how to tell it like it is Boris." "And you know how to push the boss' buttons, little girl." His strong accent emphasized leetle gurl. It wasn't a compliment. Nobody wanted to be around Vlad Sitnikov when he was p

Anya had stopped resisting Ash almost right away. Not that it mattered. He had been willing to tie her up and gag her if it meant getting the conniving beauty back to his place and into his bed. The one taste he had of her only ignited the fire. He wanted more. He wanted everything. And he would take everything, even if it meant pissing off her very powerful kin. She sat beside him in his black truck where he'd thrust her into the passenger seat, staring woodenly out of the tinted window. She hasn't said a word, not even to ask where they were going. Not that she ever did what he expected her to do. She wasn't like any woman he'd ever known. She frustrated him, infuriated him and ignited his lust like no other. Even now he had to stop himself from slamming on the brakes, yanking her across the space that separated them and fucking her right there in the front seat of his vehicle. He gripped the steering wheel and tried to ignore the tantalizing fragrance of her fruity body lotion.

She reached out for the T-shirt Ash had been wearing and pulled it over her head. It swam on her, reaching midway down her thighs. She pulled on her boots, snatched up her phone again and stomped back into the kitchen where Bane greeted her excitedly. She patted his head absently as she headed for the front door. Boris was waiting for her next to one of a fleet of her brother's tastefully armoured cars. She dialled her brother while making a beeline for Boris, the expression on his scarred up face one of amusement. She would be more than happy to change that. If Vlad planned on ruining her evening, she planned on ruining Boris' by extension. Vlad answered his phone. "Anastasia." "Vladimir," she responded in clipped Russian, "Why are you trying to ruin my life?" "Don't be melodramatic, solstne. Is Boris there with you?" "Yes," she snapped. "I am about to inform him that he may leave. Without me!" He sighed heavily. "I am trying to protect you, Anastasia. This man, Asher Bowl