One of the reasons he rejected his privileged family and joined the FBI. But those dangerous assignments take something from him every time, leaving him a mess, unfamiliar even to himself. As he struggles to shed the skin of his latest op, he finds solace in the most random of places.Bar manager, Carter Renault’s only intention was to escort the lonely stranger out of his place before he locked up. Yet somehow they end up in an alley, Carter’s pants around his ankles. Their encounter is intense. A onetime thing. Except months later Sullivan is sneaking through Carter’s window, appearing and disappearing at random. The blistering-hot sex doesn’t hide the obvious torment Sullivan is going through, but Carter doesn’t want to be caught in the middle.Just when he thinks he’s seen the end of that undercover life, Sullivan gets pulled back in. But this time, his identity is no longer a secret, and the aggressive need he has for Carter could get the other man killed. To set everything right, Sullivan has to face the one man he loves and hates in equal measure… his twin.

    I will not hurt you, unless you want me to.”I'm in deep to the Mafia. My father was the one who made the deal, and when I inherited his club, I also inherited his troubles.Ivan wants to save me, or so he says. More like he wants me to be his slave for a year. After the one-night stand I had with him, though, would that be so bad? With his impossibly hard body, and the way he always makes me scream...But he's still a monster. He's a criminal, and something so much worse.And yet I can't stop the tingling in my body every time I think of how he touched me, and those dark but delicious words rolling off his tongue, tinged with his Russian accent.He knows what I'll say, even before I do. "I'll take your offer."

    I had a three-day notice to pay rent or quit. The ad was the answer to my problem. Someone needed a party hostess for 24 hours on a private island. With my catering experience and model looks, I could get the gig. But when I set eyes on the man about to fly me to the island, I realized I might have made a mistake. The tall, older, arrogant stranger didn’t just undress me with his eyes, he used me right there on the pavement. Deviant desires seemed to radiate from him. He pulled a black leather dog collar out of his pocket. “Wait. You have to sign this before we do anything. Read it.” He handed me a contract. The wind swept a bottle down the runway and blew my skirt up. It was hard to read with his dark eyes looking right through my underwear and into my secret places. “This is a mistake. I didn’t know the ad meant —.” “You thought you were going to serve canapes on a tray?” He chuckled. “No, Brittani. You’re the main course.” His eyes worked me over again. “And you’re perfect.” He handed me a pen that probably cost more than my laptop. “Just sign at the bottom of the page. Full disclosure, full consent. That’s the way I do business.” “Can I leave?” “Of course you can leave. If you leave now. But you don’t get paid if you leave. Once we get to the island, you’re ours for 24-hours.” He tapped the contract with his long finger. “When your service is over, I transfer $10,000 to your account and send you home.” “$10,000?” I choked on it. That was more than generous. I scanned the contract again. It had long, dense paragraphs of disclaimers and waivers but not much in the way of details. “I’ll be — okay — when it’s over?” “You’ll be okay.” He smiled. I liked his smile. I needed the money. I signed. He put the collar around my neck and buckled it. If you like dark short erotica, kinky alpha billionaires — and no-entrances-barred hard-and-unprotected group interracial action with a white woman at the center, you'll love Q. Zayne's creamy story about Brittani’s scary-hot visit to The Billionaire’s Club. Click Buy and get the adventure! All characters are 18+ and readers should be, too, due to language and sexual content. If you're over 21, enjoy the dash of interracial BMWW romance sparked amid all the juicy action. :)

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