Blake's Fall

Lucy
My life is a trainwreck. I’ve got family troubles, relationship problems, and work issues coming out my ears. All I need is one night—one night—to forget my troubles.
Which is when a hot stranger comes along.
He promises me nothing but distraction.
One perfect night, shrouded in mystery.
Until we cross paths again and I realize my stranger is no stranger at all.
In fact, he’s part of my problem.
I don’t want to believe it. Surely fate wouldn’t be that cruel to me?
Famous last words...

Blake
One perfect night.
One perfect night with the woman of my dreams, and like an idiot, I let her slip away.
But there’s a twist to my story, one that brings her back into my life and complicates things beyond measure.
She’s my best friend’s niece—my best friend who is also my boss.
Then there’s a merger to contend with—a merger that means she’ll end up married to another man.
I can’t let that happen.
Lucy Steele is meant to be mine.

***Please note this book was previously released under the title, Blake's Bombshell by Loni Ree. There is some new content and it has been re-edited. The overall story has not changed.***

As I push my way past the obnoxious group of drunk assholes blocking the entrance of the Salty Shore Bar, I question my sanity for coming here on a busy Friday night. The place is packed wall to wall with people wanting to get an early start on enjoying their weekend. On one side of the bar, a large group of businessmen has taken over the entire area by the pool tables and are celebrating loudly while a couple of women try desperately to get their attention. A circular-shaped dance floor bordered by floor-to-ceiling speakers encompasses the entire other side of the bar. The tooth-jarring beat from the speakers bounces off of every corner of the darkened space, and the dance floor is packed with sweaty, grinding bodies as well as several desperate looking people attempting to find someone to take home for the night.
My plan was to come out and have a few beers to ease some of the tension brought on by the shit-show going on at DRS Security. Now, I realize this might not be the place to accomplish my goal. I’m about to turn around and leave when I notice nearly all the assholes in the bar are watching a beautiful girl. She’s sitting alone in the last booth at the back of the bar, standing out in her designer clothes while she downs shot after shot of cheap booze. Based on all the desperate, hungry looks I see, I realize it won’t be too long before one of these fuckers tries to take advantage of such an easy target.
My eyes are drawn to her, and I understand why she’s getting all the attention. As my heart starts beating heavier in my chest, the urge to mess up her perfect hair while I’m fucking the hell out of her roars through me unexpectedly. Protective instincts hit me out of nowhere and kick into overdrive. I’m powerless to stop myself, so I make my way over to her. While shoving my way through the crowd of partiers, I wonder what the fuck is happening to me. How can I want to not only fuck her but also keep her without even meeting her first?
After prowling over to her table, I slide in up against her tiny body to block all the other douchebags from eyeing the object of my intense desire. Without asking, I pick up one of the shots, throw it back, and smirk. “You know, someone who barely weighs a hundred pounds shouldn’t drink ten shots of whiskey. You’re going to be drunk on your ass and puking, sweetheart.”
After the little doll’s eyes narrow, she huffs, “I’m actually one hundred and five pounds and can hold my liquor. Thank you very much, asshole.” She tosses her long hair over her shoulder as she’s glaring at me. “And I never said you could have one of my shots. Those shots are eleven dollars each, so you owe me.”
My cock turns iron-hard in my jeans while I watch her small pink tongue lick the inside of the glass before she throws back another drink. She’s the most beautiful vision I've ever seen, and I’m fucking losing my mind over her. Fighting the overwhelming urge to throw her ass over my shoulder and carry her out of this overcrowded bar is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I need to have her all to myself.
“I don’t think five pounds is going to make that much difference, sweets. And I was doing you a favor taking one of your shots. That shit is awful.” I shudder to prove my point before getting up and pushing my way to the bar, where I wait to get a bartender’s attention so I can settle her tab.