Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
I’m excited when I’m given a promotion to tour manager at Club Red — until I find out I’ll be crowded into a van with four alpha-hole revue dancers, trying to keep them in line while they travel to other venues.
Their bodies may be physical perfection, but the men are infuriating and frustrating, and they seem determined to push every one of my buttons.
Colin is a cocky f-boy who thinks every woman wants him, including me. I’m determined not to feed his ego, but his wicked grin gives my body other ideas.
Tall, dark, and smart-mouthed Jordan exists to torment me, ready with a clever comeback for every comment. I hate him, and I also hate how much I want him.
Owen is sullen and moody, until he gets on stage and dazzles both me and every woman in the audience with his panty-soaking moves.
Rough and rugged Zane and I have one night of history together, a night I’ve begged him not to mention to the others, but his mouth is apparently as big as other parts of his anatomy!
They’re all so irritating that I manage to mostly overlook how hot they are … until the night we’re forced to share a room, and all of the energy we’d put into fighting with each other gets channeled into more pleasurable activities.
It’s a spectacular lapse in judgment on my part, and I can’t let it happen again. I’m their boss, and what we did together is against the rules. I need this job, no matter how frustrating it is.
But my common sense and willpower have apparently met their match. Resisting them is futile, especially when I find out there's a lot more to them than meets the eye. Can we move from being enemies to something much more than friends?
Four Enemies is the third book in the FOUR After Dark Series, standalone reverse harem romances with characters who continue to make appearances.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
1
BRITTANY
“Can I bring you a refill, Brittany?”
I’m lost in thoughts about my upcoming promotion when I hear my name. “What? Oh, no thanks, Becca. I’m going to nurse this one a little longer and then I think I’ll be going. What do I owe you?”
My favorite waitress here at Rusty’s pulls a small card reader device from her apron pocket and presents it to me so I can pay my tab. “Kind of a slow night,” she says in a sympathetic tone. “Things should pick up in a couple of weeks.”
“Yeah,” I answer distractedly as I add a tip to my total. I’m debating about whether to hang out or try another spot tonight. Rusty’s is usually reliable, but there’s been no one at all who looked both available and appealing.
“If you change your mind, just give me a wave,” Becca says before moving on to another table.
“Will do. Thanks.”
I work most nights, so I need to make good use of my time when I go out. It’s only really about once a month that I indulge myself. If things go well, then I’m good for another month.
I spent my twenties and early thirties dating men, hoping to find one to settle down with. Over and over, they disappointed me — at best. Several men treated my heart like a plaything, ripping it from my chest and kicking it around for their own amusement. A couple of them left not just my heart bruised, but also my body.
I’ve had more than my fair share of pain, and the emotional damage has been hard to shake, but I’m done letting men hurt me.
Unfortunately, even though my heart and mind know better, my body still craves the company of a man; so once a month, when I can find a suitable partner, I get my fill of physical pleasure. In between, my drawer of vibrators is all the companionship I need.
Currently, it’s the off season here on Four Points Island, which means there aren’t many vacationers at the bar. I try not to hook up with locals, because they might expect a repeat, or somehow otherwise complicate my simple needs. All I want is one solid orgasm tonight, and I’ll be good until vacationers start to hit the island.
After another small sip of what remains in my glass, I look up just in time to see an absolute vision come through the entrance. I haven’t had that much to drink, but I’m still not sure I can trust my eyes.
The man would be a ten out of ten on a busy summer’s night in a bar packed with tourists; tonight, with that thick beard and dark eyes, he’s at least a fifteen. He stops just inside the door and surveys the room, and I send up a frantic and heartfelt prayer that he’s not here to meet a date.
Those dark eyes meet mine, pass by … and then return. I hold his gaze and raise a brow in question. He’s definitely not from around here; I’d remember seeing him. Maybe he’s just moved to the island, though, since the last time I came out. If that’s the case, he’s worth risking a night with a local.
Tight, faded jeans hug his hips and his black shirt is unbuttoned at the neck, revealing a frustratingly small glimpse of extremely well-developed chest muscles. Rolled-up sleeves barely contain his massive biceps. His expression shifts into one of concealed amusement, making me realize that I’m not exactly being subtle about undressing him with my eyes.
Nevertheless, I keep staring as he makes his way toward me. I don’t care for fishing, but the feeling I have must be similar to someone with a big catch on their line. Please don’t let him get away. Mama needs to eat.
“Are you here alone?” the man asks when he stops at my table. His deep, gritty voice is nearly as sexy as his body. My fingers are tingling, eager to run through his unruly chestnut hair. Other parts of me are tingling, too.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” I tell him, looking between him and the open chair next to me.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” The hint of a smirk is still on his lips as he pulls out the seat and settles onto it, his thighs manspreading in a way no woman would complain about. Somehow I manage not to immediately climb into his lap. “What’re you drinking? Vodka and cranberry?” he asks, glancing down at my rocks glass.
As I confirm his guess, he flags down Becca, who I suspect already clocked his arrival. She sends a private look my way, letting me know she’s impressed by how my slow night has suddenly turned around.
After ordering for me, he requests a bourbon for himself, and I’m pleased to see how politely he speaks to the waitress. Good manners can be a sign that someone’s a generous partner in bed.