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Authors: D.G. Whiskey

Steal: A Bad Boy Romance

BOOK: Steal: A Bad Boy Romance
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STEAL

A BAD BOY ROMANCE

 
 

D.G. WHISKEY

 
 
 

COPYRIGHT © 2016 D.G. WHISKEY

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 
 

Cover Design—Mayhem Cover Creations

Editing—
Wyrmwood
Editing

DESCRIPTION

 
 

Kat

The
last thing I needed in my life was another arrogant jerk to distract me from my
career.

 

But
there was something about James I couldn't resist, despite how wrong it was.
The ex-Marine took control every time we were together, and it felt so good to
let him.

 

Despite
how he made me feel, I couldn't shake the conviction that he would destroy me.

 
 

James

Manipulating
people is an art, and I'm Michelangelo.

 

My
name is James Stratton. At least, that's the name I'm using right now. I'm a
con artist. A
grifter
. But I only steal from assholes
who deserve it.

 

Kat
has no idea that I'm her childhood friend. I've changed. Grown. Matured. And
I'm back to get even with the girl who broke my heart.

ALSO
BY
D.G. WHISKEY

 

STANDALONES:

Pulse: A Stepbrother Romance

Steal: A Bad Boy Romance

 

DEVEREUX NOVELS:

Capturing Liberty
—Included in this copy of
Steal
, click to read now!

(Capturing Liberty is located after the text of Steal)

Taking Flight

Chasing Charity
—Coming Spring 2016!

 
 

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

 
 

STEAL: A BAD BOY ROMANCE

ONE
—KAT

TWO
—JAMES

THREE
—KAT

FOUR
—JAMES

FIVE
—KAT

SIX
—JAMES

SEVEN
—KAT

EIGHT
—JAMES

NINE
—KAT

TEN
—JAMES

ELEVEN
—KAT

TWELVE
—JAMES

THIRTEEN
—KAT

FOURTEEN
—JAMES

FIFTEEN
—KAT

SIXTEEN
—JAMES

SEVENTEEN
—KAT

EIGHTEEN
—JAMES

NINETEEN
—KAT

TWENTY
—JAMES

TWENTY-ONE
—KAT

TWENTY-TWO
—JAMES

TWENTY-THREE
—KAT

TWENTY-FOUR
—JAMES

EPILOGUE
—ADDISON

 
 

CAPTURING LIBERTY

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER
1

~ K
AT
~

 

I turned the key to no
response—no purr of the engine, no kick of the starter. Hell, not even
the sputtering efforts of a dying battery.

“You’ve
got to be kidding me.”

A
few more tries under eerie silence confirmed it.

“No!
Come on, you old bucket, you can’t do this. Not today.” I slammed my fist on
the dash, nearly upsetting my coffee.

Anger
didn’t work, so I tried pleading.

“I
didn’t mean it, Carly. Let’s go, girl. You can do it!” Past boyfriends had made
fun of me for naming my cars, but it felt right to have an actual name to
appeal to. I held my breath and turned the key, but nothing had changed.

“Shit.”

It
took a minute to locate the hood release. I’d never used it before, and I
accidentally popped the trunk and the fuel tank cover before finding it.

“Let’s
take a look at you,” I said as I hoisted the hood.

The
mess of metal and plastic parts held no meaning to my inexperienced eyes.
Nothing looked out of place, but I didn’t know how it should look. I stared
under the hood of the car as if the solution to my problem could be found if I
looked hard enough.

“Having
car troubles?”

I
jumped. A tall and muscled man with two-day scruff, a tight shirt and a
dangerous smile had crept up behind me.

“Obvious,
huh?”

He
chuckled. “People rarely look under the hood unless there’s something wrong
with their car.”

“I
guess that’s true.” I eyed the stranger, wary of his motives. His easy manner
was reassuring, but the tattoos that slithered from under the collar and
sleeves of his simple white t-shirt warned me that he wasn’t a typical
Silicon Valley nerd. He exuded an air of familiarity that made me want to trust
him. “Do I know you?”

His
eyes narrowed as he looked into mine. “I don’t think so. I would never forget a
face like yours.”

A
tingle ran down the back of my neck. “Thank you.”

He
made a good point—I’d remember him.

“Why
don’t you let me take a look? I know a thing or two about cars—I can tell
you what’s wrong with it.”

I
didn’t want to owe anything to this man, but I was short on options and
couldn’t waste the time to figure something else out.

“It
couldn’t hurt,” I agreed, and stood aside to let him lean over the engine and
poke around. “Just promise you won’t do anything to screw it up any worse.”

“You
have my word,” he said. The statement carried weight, as if he were not the
type of man to use it lightly. “I’m James.”

“My
name’s Katherine.”

“That’s
a charming name, but mind if I call you Kat?” His gaze was piercing. “I think
that suits you better.”

My
breath caught in my throat. Only my closest friends called me Kat, but it never
sounded so sensual coming from their lips. “If you want.”

With
nothing better to do than wait for the stranger’s assessment, my eyes helped
themselves to the feast of man flesh in front of them.

His
powerful back rippled underneath his shirt, the tight material leaving nothing
to the imagination as he poked around the engine compartment looking for the
problem. It had been so long since I’d been with someone that just watching him
work on my car sent a shiver down my spine.

“This
isn’t good,” James said as he straightened. “Something’s off here. It might be
toast.”

“What?
It drove here fine, I only shut it off for a couple minutes while I ran in to
get my coffee! It can’t be broken. How is that even possible?” An embarrassing
entrance to work awaited me, and it might be my last. I couldn’t afford any
more screw-ups.

He
shrugged, “These things happen sometimes, Kat. Works fine until it doesn’t.
That’s how it goes.”

“You
don’t understand,” I said. “I have to get to work on time. I only started this
job a couple weeks ago, and it hasn’t been going well.”

James
raised an eyebrow. “Is that right? Where do you work?”

“It’s
a digital security
startup
in downtown San Francisco
called ARCANE. We have a patented encryption algorithm that’s guaranteed to be
more secure than any other method available. I'm the director of marketing and
public relations.”

“Is
that right? With a body like yours, I pegged you as a yoga instructor.”

Warmth
colored
my cheeks at his words. He wasn’t shy about
looking me up and down as he said them. My internal warning crystallized.

I knew he’d be the type to treat
women like cuts of meat at the supermarket.

Somehow,
I’d always attracted those kinds of men. Even worse, I had a history of not
realizing it until far too late. My heart was perpetually bruised over it and I
wouldn’t let myself fall into that trap yet again.

“Some
of us are good for more than just what our bodies can do. Now, if you’re done
doing nothing to help fix my car, do you mind going away so I can call a
tow truck or mechanic and figure this out?”

I
turned my back on him, heart pumping faster from the bold rejection. Looking
down at my phone, I pulled up Google to search for a mechanic. James’ shadow
stretched beside mine, but I was determined not to acknowledge his presence any
longer.

He
made it difficult when he reached over my shoulder and snagged the phone from
my hand.

“Hey!
That’s mine!”

I
lunged for it, but he held it high overhead, out of my reach. I fell short, my
hands landing instead on his muscled chest. The hard, warm flesh felt great
under my hands, and it took longer to gather myself and remove them than it
should have.

His
eyes held mine, crinkled as if in amusement.

“I
can’t let you call a random guy who will just come and take advantage of you.”


You’re
a random guy, and…”

“And
you think I’d take advantage of you?” His words were low and throaty, finishing
the thought.

My
failed attempt at the phone brought us only inches apart. Being this close to
him made me feel small and vulnerable. His lips pulled wide into a knowing
smirk that inspired a tug between my legs.

“What
exactly do you expect me to do about this, if you won’t let me call a
professional?” I asked, pointing at the car.

His
smirk turned into a grin. “I never said I
couldn’t
fix it. I just won’t do it for free.”

“Are
you serious?” I asked. “Why the hell didn’t you say that before?”

“I
was just making conversation,” he said. “Wanted to see why you were in such a
rush.”

“James,
stop messing around,” I said, using his name for the first time. “How much
money do you want to fix my car?”

He
shook his head. “I don’t want your money. I want to take you on a date.”

“A
date?”

I
hadn’t been on a date in ages. And I didn’t want to start again with this
entitled jerk.

“I
don’t think that’s a good idea. Just tell me how much you want for fixing the
car, and if it’s reasonable, then you’ve got a deal.”

He
folded his arms across his chest, forearm muscles bulging, veins snaking
underneath the skin. “It’s a simple arrangement. I’m not asking for much here.”

I
bit my lip. James was just my type—that was the problem. His raw
magnetism pulled at me, and if I were younger and in my college days I would
have already agreed. Unfortunately, my body’s urges always got me into trouble
around these kinds of men.

But
I couldn’t afford to arrive late to work. If he could fix the car quickly
enough for me to get there on time, it would be worth it.

“Fine.
One date. But only if I get to work on time. If you take an hour and I’m still
late, I won’t go out with you.”

“That’s
not a problem.” A grin betrayed his cockiness. “Shouldn’t take more than a few
minutes.”

BOOK: Steal: A Bad Boy Romance
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