Devastatingly Desirable: A Possessive Insta-love Brit Alpha Billionaire Romance (In love in a New York Minute Book 1) Read online

  CONTENTS

  Devastatingly Desirable

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Epilogue 2

  Impetuously Irresistible

  Excerpt of Impetuously Irresistible

  Follow the Author

  Also by Ember Flint

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  Devastatingly Desirable

  By EMBER FLINT

  Lara Mason has big dreams and a great passion for everything that inspires confidence and sex appeal, but she is shy and closed off, she has never been in love and has forgotten what it is like to be touched by a real man. When a sexy, British, giant gentleman crashes her boring evening plans, she can’t do much but hold on tight as a tidal wave of lust sweeps her under.

  Aston Henley has money and power written all over his big body, he keeps everyone he meets at arm’s length and his imposing stature scares everybody off. His black-and-white life lacks passion and desire, he is always traveling for work and settling down is the furthest thing from his mind, but everything changes in an instant when he gazes for the first time into a pair of dark eyes that pierce him to the marrow.

  There’s nothing he can’t do but dive head first into a whirlwind of all-encompassing, raunchy love.

  This is more than a one-night-stand: there is an unstoppable, devastating pull between them and there’s nothing they can do to resist it. They don’t understand the power of the electrical current linking them and making them want to touch, taste, own and never let go of the other, but they can’t deny it’s there.

  Dear Reader:

  This is a standalone, smutty-adorable novella with no cheating and a guaranteed HEA that takes the concept of Love at first sight and just runs wild with it, so brace yourself and don’t say I didn’t warn you *wink-wink*

  Aston is Big, British and an all-around Alpha Billionaire it doesn’t get any better than that and he is all yours, if you can bear to share him with Lara and watch him go all caveman on her.

  We are talking about over-the-top, ridiculously steamy and fast insta-love that never misses a chance to be hot, dirty and so sugary-sweet you’ll need to see your dentist when you finish reading this.

  *Please note that Devastatingly Desirable is part of the ‘In love in a New York Minute’ series, each one of the stories focuses only on one couple and there are no cliffhangers so the books can be read in any order and also as standalones.

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2018 Ember Flint

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. To request permission, contact the author.

  Note from the Author: this is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters are represented as 18 or over. Also, in real life, remember: always safety first.

  Cover design by: Pink Diamonds Waterfall

  Edited by: New Wave Romance

  To all of you insta-love aficionados out there, cynics can say what they want about it, but we know it can really happen.

  Chapter 1

  ASTON

  “Come on, man! You can’t leave me alone in my hour of need!”

  I drag my eyes away from the screen of my laptop and I stop typing. I look up at my best friend and sure enough I meet his clear blue eyes trying to wear —without much success— the puppy dog expression that seems to work on everyone but me.

  He knows it, I know it; yet here he is, trying to pull it off.

  I sigh. “For Heaven’s sake, Charles, it’s only a bloody stupid lingerie shop. You make it sound like it’s a blasted war zone or something!”

  “Well, for me it is! Say you will come with me! It will be too embarrassing to even speak in there, if I’m alone. Please, Ast.”

  I roll my eyes at him. It has to be a joke. “And how it is that the thought of two grown, straight men going in a lingerie store to shop for knickers together is less awkward in your eyes?”

  Charles stands up and starts to pace in front of me. “We will not be shopping together and you won’t even need to advise me or anything if you don’t want to…”

  I shake my head, my lips twitching slightly. “Then why on Earth do you want me to go with you if you don’t even need me to speak, Chuck?”

  My friend gives me one of his patented cheeky smiles. “Well, for moral support of course.”

  I laugh. “Of course. For moral support. I see,” I pinch the bridge of my nose.

  Maybe I should just go. He has been trying to convince me for over an hour now to go with him and buy a present for his snotty girlfriend and I’m too tired and too jet-lagged to keep arguing about it.

  I’ve been in New York for less than two hours after a red-eye straight from Heathrow, I shouldn’t be dealing with this kind of inanity.

  I should be getting some sleep and then start planning for our meetings on Monday —including the one with our friend, Sterling, who is currently probably in a coma in his hotel suite; jet lag hits him pretty hard every time he travels long-distance— and instead it looks like I’m about to go lingerie shopping for a bitchy girlfriend that is not even my own and on a late Friday afternoon no less.

  The lack of sleep must be really starting to warp my judgment if I’m actually considering this; but I knew already I would cave eventually if he insisted: he has been my friend for twenty of my thirty-two years: there’s nothing I won’t do for him and I know he feels the same towards me.

  We are more like brothers than friends, it has always been like this.

  Charles shrugs back into his leather jacket. “Come on, I’m sure it won’t be so bad after all!”

  I close my notebook and stand up reaching for my black woolen overcoat. “Really? Isn’t your own expectation of it being just about as dreadful as tea with your great-aunt Margaret, the whole point of my coming with you for moral support?”

  My friend slaps me on the back with a half grin. “Do you always have to be so… coherent about things?”

  I smile a bit. “I’m afraid so.”

  He just laughs. “Let’s go…”

  We make our way outside of my penthouse and go straight for my private elevator.

  I take my mobile out of my pocket and call for my driver. “I don’t feel like taking on the traffic myself as tired as I am…”

  Charles suddenly looks concern
ed. “How thoughtless of me! I’m sorry, Aston, I’m being a total ass. It’s just that Lulu is driving me fucking crazy! She makes me forget myself.”

  I feel my eyebrows rising without my giving them the go-ahead. “Chuck, if she is so…” I cast about for a word, trying to come up with something accurate yet not offensive to describe Louise. Lunatic Cow comes to mind, but I hardly think my friend will approve of that particular definition.

  I clear my throat. “She’s so… demanding and, forgive me for pointing this out, she seems a little—”

  “Crass? Manipulative? Annoying? Frigid? A pain in the ass? Thank you, I’m well aware of that.”

  Well, apparently he knows already how to best define her without my help.

  I take a long look at him. “To be honest, old chap, I could have not said it any better, or… worse, to be more to the point, but then why the hell are you dragging me lingerie shopping for her, instead of breaking-up with her?”

  Charles frowns a bit and looks down.

  I knew he was unhappy in the barely three-month-old relationship, but I hadn’t thought it was as bad as that.

  “Well, you know me. I always try to give people a chance. Sometimes even two…”

  I smirk. “And how many have you given to crass-manipulative-annoying-frigid-pain-in-the-arse-Lulu to discover such a list of oh-so wonderful qualities about her, Charlie?”

  “I’d rather not give you a number, Aston…”

  The doors of the elevator open with a ding and we step in the well-lit, elegant marble hall of my building, the concierge straightens up and stands alert before me. “Good afternoon, Mr. Henley. Mr. Spade— your driver is outside.”

  I nod curtly with a tight-lipped smile and thank him, trying to put the man at ease. I have known him for the past five years, since I bought my flat to have a place to crash when managing in person the local headquarters of Henley and Spade, our venture capital firm, and still I have not been able to make him chill out —as Charles would say— in my presence, but I’m used to it: people rarely are at ease in the presence of money and power and I have both. The fact that I’m six feet seven tall is usually not a help either.

  As we both slide in the back seat of the sleek, black Lexus, I ask again.

  “I don’t mean to be an arsehole, Charles, but why are you not breaking-up with her instead of buying her expensive gifts that, considering the fact that frigid is part of your description of her, you are not going to enjoy?”

  Charles gives a scornful laugh. “Man, when is that you started making jokes?”

  I smile. “It’s the jet lag, my friend, I will go back to my usual grim self in no time, but Chuck, really: why?”

  He shrugs his shoulders and tilt his head a little. “I’ve made my mind: I am ending things with her, but tomorrow it’s her birthday…”

  I nod. “I see”

  “I refuse to be the bastard who leaves his girlfriend on the eve of her birthday, no matter the fact that she is a bitch. Plus, if I did such a thing, Cora would never let me live it down.”

  I laugh. “What are you talking about? Your sister hates her guts. She calls her Cruella!”

  Charles shrugs. “Well yes, but she would still berate me on principle.”

  I completely understand where he’s going with this and he is absolutely right about his baby sister: even though Cora loathes Louise, Chuck would never hear the end of it if he behaved in such an ungentlemanly way…

  I nod, smiling a little. “I totally get it, but why lingerie?”

  My friend chuckles. “Well, she not only gave me a price range for her gift, but she insisted on the what and the where: it has to be a bra and panty lace-number and it has to come from this very expensive designer lingerie’s place…”

  I shake my head. “How thoughtful of her… and what’s the name of the fortunate knickers shop that is going to bankrupt you?”

  Charles taps on the darkened glass divisor with a smile and Lucas, my driver, pulls it down. “Where are you headed this fine evening, Mr. Henley?”

  I look at my best friend, one eyebrow raised in question and let him speak, since I still have no idea of where we are going.

  He smiles. “Intimate Delights.”

  Chapter 2

  LARA

  I sigh, looking at the pile of discarded bras and thighs hanging on the back of a chair in one of the changing rooms. Some people have no decency at all.

  I don’t expect customers to lose their precious time actually folding each item, but would it really kill them to take the stuff they don’t feel like purchasing and at least bring it back to the front counter so I can perform the task myself within working hours instead of having to do it all at once afterwards?

  Well, apparently their time is money, while mine is shit, since they think I can easily stay after closing time on a Friday night picking up after them.

  Not that I have any programs for this evening, but still…

  I have at least another hour of work before I can call it a day and it’s already half past eight.

  I have to examine the accounts, do the inventory, go through the new shipment of lingerie that arrived yesterday and should have been on display since this morning —and yet is still in the storeroom— then I have to set the alarm and close the shop.

  It’s a lot to do and I probably won’t be home before ten.

  Today has been a nightmare.

  I don’t know exactly what happened, but at opening time I was the only one present in the upscale lingerie shop I’ve been working for the last two years as a manager.

  I’ve been running up and down since seven in the morning like a maniac, catering to the whims of one string of bossy, obnoxious patrons after another, non-stop.

  The owner of the boutique is out of town for at least another week, my assistant manager and one of the clerks are on leave, yet I was supposed to be covered for today, since the others two girls that work for Intimate Delights were on duty.

  The problem is, they didn’t show up at all and as an explanation I only got one puny text during the afternoon saying they were sorry, but they both were too sick to come in.

  I don’t think they would lie to me, they are good, steady workers usually, so probably they have food poisoning or something, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched since they are roommates, but this knowledge doesn’t make this day any less shitty for me.

  Once in the storage room, I start to go through the new garments. Exotic, silky textures and vibrant colors surround me and even though it has been an awful day I find myself smiling: this is way I love my job.

  There is nothing as pretty and empowering as lingerie for me.

  My hands caress the lacy material of a beautiful lavender set. It is a strapless balconette, lace molded on memory-foam cups adorned by swirls of silk, accompanied by a pair of sheer floral lace pattern cheeky with scalloped edges. Super sexy, yet comfortable.

  I could never afford this kind of lingerie, but if there’s one good thing about being the manager of this shop, is the owner’s policy that guarantees me an allowance that doesn’t cut into my salary and yet gives me the chance to pick one or two —depending on price range— handmade pieces for myself.

  If there is a 38DD available, this baby is coming home with mama.

  I rummage a bit and I find my size.

  I grab the shop tablet and immediately sign the set under my name.

  I pick it up and thumb it longingly, I bet I would feel great wearing this: it would be just the thing to give a boost to my ego and salvage the rest of this tiresome day.

  Since I’m alone here, I decide to try it on to see if the soft cups will be as comfortable as they look and if the shiny lavender tone will actually go with my pale skin.

  I dart into one of the changing rooms and start to undress with a little smile playing on my lips.

  In no time, I’m only clad in lavender lace and it feels heavenly against my skin.

 
“Not bad,” I murmur to myself.

  It looks very pretty on me, not that anyone is going to see it, though.

  I sigh. No, this is going to be only for my self-esteem.

  I definitely need a little pick-me-up!

  There hasn’t been anyone in my life in a very long time.

  I try to think about the last time I so much as held a man’s hand and I come up with nothing.

  I can’t even remember the details of my last date, but it’ not surprising: it has been over three years, after all.

  I don’t know why is it that my life is so lonely; I didn’t choose for it to turn this way, yet here I am.

  I just don’t seem to be able to find that someone that makes you want to believe in forever, maybe I’m too picky, maybe I’ve just been around too many jerks in my life, maybe—

  The telltale jingle of the little bell above the entrance of the store lets me know two things: one, I forgot to put the ‘Sorry, we’re closed’ sign up, and two, there is a customer in the boutique and I’m wearing only underwear in the back.

  Just fucking perfect.

  I hear a male voice saying ‘Hello’ a couple of times.

  I grab my purple wrap-around dress and start to speak, when I hear another voice and my heart skips a beat as I feel the deep rich tone, tinged with a sexy British accent, going straight to my core.

  Chapter 3

  ASTON

  “Is there someone that can attend us?” I ask looking around the empty, tastefully decorated shop in search of a clerk.

  It is quite late: we got stuck in a traffic jam on our way here —exactly the perfect welcome to the Big Apple I was dying to get— but still, it is twenty to nine and the door of the boutique was open.

  Just when I’m about to turn to Charles and tell him that maybe we should leave, I hear a lilting female voice coming from the back of the store.