TIGER SHARK IS LIVE!
Go 100% Alpha with Landon and Georgia!
Blurb:
London’s square mile is witness to a revolution, a new breed of business woman. They call us tiger sharks. We out-earn, out-work and out-play our male counterparts. We work the system, play the game and most importantly, win. In a city full of sharks only the most ruthless make it to the top of the pool.
The number one rule: never sleep with the boss. Ever. I had no intention of breaking it until I met my new boss. No matter how strong my resolve, Landon Banks can smell weakness like a shark smells blood in the water, and I’m bleeding.
The hunter becomes the hunted, lines start to blur, and I have a choice to make. Screw or be screwed. Of course, I never was much good at taking it like a bitch. Landon Banks will be learning to grab his ankles if I have anything to do with it.
Things are about to get interesting in the game of predator versus predator. Who will come out on top?
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Excerpt:
(WARNING: Graphic words/language; NSFW)
Masque is where the darkest of creatures come to play, to fulfil warped desires without judgement or persecution. After all, you can’t judge what you can’t see.
I slip the mask out of my hand bag and tie the ribbons at the back of my head, pinning them into my hair with some grips. I knock on the door of what looks like a respectable and extremely expensive town house in the centre of London’s most affluent area. The door opens, revealing a guy in a black suit, a plain black mask covering his eyes. He glances at my membership card and he waves me through.
Inside it looks exactly how you’d expect a high end sex club to look. Dark, luxurious, sensual. Rock music fills the room, contrasting wildly with the velvet chaise lounges and crystal chandeliers. Within the club, people resume a new identity. Their masks
become their identity. Mine looks like a cat, the faint stripes of a tiger painted along the delicate lines that outline my face and accentuate my sharp cheekbones. There’s a certain thrill in hiding, because in hiding who I am, it allows me to be who I
really am. I come here for one reason, to be liberated on every level.
I go to the bar and perch on a stool, crossing my legs and allowing my short black dress to ride up my thigh. The waiter slides a martini in front of me and I thank him. I allow my gaze to drift around the room, shopping, because everyone in here is on the menu. My gaze stops on a guy sitting on one of the sofas, his fingers buried in ... the woman straddling him. His mask is distinctive, made of white porcelain and depicting a Greek god. I know from experience that he has a body like a god as well. Sometimes I like to be surprised by a new partner, but other times I like to know that I’m going to be satisfied. Apollo as I call him, always satisfies my more aggressive appetites, and tonight I feeling positively savage after my interaction with Banks. There’s nothing like a powerful man to make my inner alpha b!tch rear her head with bared teeth.
I down the martini and stand, swaying my hips a little as I make my way to Apollo. He looks up, his eyes meeting mine through the mask that covers his eyes and nose. His lips kick up slightly on one side as he assesses me with a cockiness I’ve come to expect of him. The woman moans, her fingers clinging to his shoulders and scratching over the material of his open shirt.
“Come.” I say to him.
“Well, it would be rude not to finish the lady.” He says, humour lacing his voice.
I tilt my head to the side and study the girl, her long blonde hair cascades down her bare back as she throws her head back. I step close to her and grab a handful of her hair, fisting it. She moans, pushing her chest out. He watches me intensely as his bicep tenses, his fingers sinking deeper inside her.
I bend over, dropping my face into the crook of her neck and placing a kiss to her soft skin before sweeping my tongue up the side of her throat. Her breath hitches and she trembles gently. I lift my eyes to meet his, and I see the spark of lust in them, the need eating away at him as I wrench her head back even further and slide my free hand down her chest... She bucks and writhes, moaning like a wanton slut as she rides his hand.
“F*ck.” He says, completely enraptured by the sight of her coming apart under our combined touch. When she’s done, he practically throws her off him and rises to his feet. My eyes instantly hone in on the bulge straining against the material of his trousers. His shirt remains open, the hard planes of his stomach on display. I jerk my head towards the stairs and he follows me without question.
This house has twenty rooms, each one identical to the other. For those who like their play a little rougher, there’s the basement which houses a dungeon. I have certain tastes, but they don’t venture into ‘chain me up and beat me’ territory.
We pass a line of doors, all with a red ribbon tied on the door. These are the occupied rooms, although some people don’t bother with the ribbon in the hope that someone walks in on them. Each to their own... I push open the door and step inside, watching him close it behind him with a resounding click.
I take slow steps backwards into the room, until a chaise bumps the backs of my knees. He pushes his shirt over his shoulders and allows it to fall to the floor. Apollo is a good looking guy, and he’s utterly shameless. He likes sex anyway he can get it, and if it makes him come, he’s game, the harder the better, any means necessary.
I reach behind me and lower the zip on my dress, shrugging the straps off my shoulders and allowing the material to pool at my ankles, exposing my bra.
Of course with that mask, I can’t make out his expression clearly. It makes him seem hard and implacable. For some reason it makes me think of Landon. It shouldn’t be a turn on but it is.
I step out of the dress at my feet and hook my thumbs into my knickers. I pause for a second, call it dramatic effect if you like, before slowly sliding them down my legs. Still he doesn’t make a move or breathe a sound.
Lowering myself onto the chaise lounge behind me, I smile and beckon him forward with a crook of my finger. He obliges, crossing the room and coming to a halt right in front of me. I reach up and trail my fingers down his firm stomach before I unfasten his trousers and shove them down his thighs... “Get on your knees.” I command. He steps out of the material at his feet, kicking off his shoes and socks quickly before he does as I say and gets on his knees, completely naked in front of me.
Review:
RATING:
I gotta hand it to LP. With that title and blurb alone, it
was enough to pique my curiosity and give her work a try; plus considering that
this trope is probably one of my lesser favorite, boss-employee, unless the MCs
didn’t know at first contact, which is def not the case here. I’m always
nervous bec one wrong turn and we’re talking trampling all over standards of
conduct. That’s just me and my quirks… But like I said, I give her credit for
catching my attention despite all my misgivings.
Georgia
is one interesting h. Talk about an alpha h! Don’t often come across someone
like her. Did LP make it work? I think she did. It’s one thing to read an alpha
H seen thru the eyes of the h, but it’s another when you’ve got an alpha h and
you have access to her thoughts. Real slippery slope down to d0ucher-y, or in
this case, just plain b!tchiness. But what LP managed to do is she made me
understand her. It wasn’t a smooth path, but she got me there eventually, how
about that! Quite frankly, I was ready to throw in the towel by the
thirds-mark, with Georgia
just coming across as having too much of an edge and a chip on her shoulder, real
peach of a b!tch, AND a kink that caught me off-guard to boot, but slowly, I
started to see her growth. While flawed and all, I understood her motivation so
next thing I know, I’m right there by her side, cheering her on. Interesting…
Landon, I liked him. I actually wish I liked him more but I
think Georgia’s strong personality overpowered his a little, so I as much as I
wanted to swoon over him and appreciate his actions and words, I didn’t totally
get into him; almost run-of-the-mill, if I may add. What I would say for
certain though is that he was the fitting H fitting for Georgia. Boy
did he “handle” her well! *winks*
Their coming together is full of heat and animosity so just
imagine their smexy times! Georgia’s
“kink” is not one I’ve read in my romance reads before so that did raise my
eyebrows a bit but again, not sure how LP did it, but she sold it! Having said
that, it should be noted somewhere that there are other people involved albeit
a small part and there’s a touch of M/F/M here, and it’s probably an M/F/M that
you don’t often come across with (at least not for me anyways), so if that
doesn’t float your boat, just be warned.
In the end, for all my reservation, and as much as I didn’t
agree with all their actions and decisions, I was more engaged than I thought
and I’m glad I gave this book a chance. It’s got enough elements to make it
different, it’s smoking hot, and it’s got honest emotions.
About the Author:
Lauren Lovell is an indie author from England.
She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and apologise for afterwards. Lauren is a self-confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy. LP loves to hear from readers so please get in touch.
Author Links:
Thanks for dropping by!
~Leftie
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