Bossed Up by the Billionaire
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Bossed Up //informal//
to go after something/someone with determination. To put your entire soul into achieving a desired outcome.
Life had dealt me so many curveballs, Struggle became my middle name.
Wouldn’t it be nice for once not to have to fight for what I want?
Enter: Mr. Perfect Stranger.
He promised me a time to remember.
I can safely vouch he kept his promise. All. Night. Long.
Trouble is, his family bought the company I work for.
And his first order of business was to remind me that I left him...
Without saying goodbye.
But that’s not the worst of it.
He wants to pick up where we left off.
Last time, I barely escaped from falling. Who’s to say that this time, I’ll be the one asking him to stay?
Bossed Up by the Billionaire is a dual POV Contemporary Romance with no cliffhanger, no cheating, and a guaranteed HEA.
Read an Excerpt
From the chapter The Snare of a Web
And just like that, I’m in high school all over again. From the time I was born, I’ve been in the 75th height percentile. That means I’m a smidge over average. Royce Grayson towers over me. He was a big man when I met him two years ago, and he’s even bigger now.
He could do some serious damage.
And I sure as hell want him to.
"Royce, give me my phone."
His grin spells trouble. His words even more so. "That’s all I was waiting for, Sin. I wanted to hear my name come out of that damn sexy mouth of yours. I’ve been thinking about it all day." He places the phone in my palm and his slight touch lights a trail of fire up my arm.
I ignore the sensation and glance at my phone. Besides a thin crack on the left-hand side, close to the top, the screen now has a spider web of lines starting in the lower right corner and progressing to the middle in a wide arc.
Terrific. Fine. Whatever.
My annoyance with him and his kind comes out in the harshness of my tone. "Don’t call me 'Sin,'" I say, stuffing my phone in my bag. I’m going to the bar. To hell with this.
Whatever this is.
I loop my bag over my shoulder and take a step forward to brush past him.
He stands in my way. "We need to talk."
I ignore the hope blooming in my chest. It's not right. It's not right.
About the Author:VK Holt has been creating stories since the age of six. An author of steamy contemporary and fantasy romance, she includes both humor and angst when writing about the strong men and the sassy women who come to love them.
If she isn’t baking, she is reading, writing or walking her Chihuahua. And drinking coffee, too. Can’t forget about that.
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