By Maya Banks
So a lot nearer than simply friends.
Hutch Bishop, Cam Douglas, and Sawyer Pritchard have been juvenile delinquents with a reckless and wildly horny aspect. yet that they had extra in universal than that. they'd Regina Fallon, a filthy rich yet lonely woman from the precise aspect of the tracks who shaped an strange friendship with the lads. She felt secure. She felt wanted. She felt loved…for the 1st time in her lifestyles. through all three.
Today, she’s a police officer, devoted to her badge, and cautious of reigniting her courting with the recent trio after one evening of ardour left her confused—and stunned—by what they sought after from her. but if a mysterious try out is made on her existence, Hutch, Cam, and Sawyer bounce in to guard her back. Now, the 4 are forming an all-new bond. It’s extra fascinating, extra excessive, and—as a killer looms within the shadows—more harmful than ever ahead of.
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Additional resources for Be With Me
The back of my legs tingled and my thighs tightened. I slowed myself down, let her see what I was doing to myself, what she was doing to me. I was so engorged that my fingers almost couldn't touch, and when I pushed my cock back against my belly it reached past my navel. I knew I was bigger then most men—I wondered how much experience she'd had with the sizes of men, if she appreciated what she saw. She stared. The fingers exploring inside her moved deeper and she began to work herself harder. Her moans were becoming more vocal and her hips were straining.
Pest, I'd be left to drinking on my own. " Being saddled with naught but my own mind for company was hardly appealing. Watching Curran stalk an all too willing victim, that was not appealing, either. The little touches he dropped on her arm, the whispers in her ear, they gave me more reasons to be sullen. It reminded me far too much of what I wanted than I was willing to stomach. And, now my wine was gone. What a miserable evening. Peu importe, I had work to do on any account. Abandoning Curran to his entertainment, I returned to the villa to retrieve my pistol and rapier.
The sluggish river Hames, which could be forded at low tide, and the river Nieulay— swift, wide and impassible—snuggled against the town walls. A single, long wooden bridge road ran to the farm lands beyond and, of course, that was a toll bridge. I slipped out of the city by way of the docks, which lined the river Nieulay where it spilled into the sea. Sneaking about the rocky beach, I would cut cross-country once I reached the marshes. It was treacherous passage for a man on foot, I would not have wanted to bring an army across it, and the new moon shed little light to guide me.