Author: Chelsea Camaron, Jessie Lane
Series: Regulators MC #1
Release Date: December 8, 2014
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Erotic Romance
More Info: Goodreads
She's an investment banker.
He's an outlaw biker.
A little bit of heaven is about to meet a whole lot of hell.
Morgan Powell was raised to be perfect, to set an example for her sisters to follow. Her life has been dedicated to making something of her career, so she wouldn’t know what to do with a man even if you gave her an instruction manual.
Brett 'Ice' Grady spends his days trying to keep up with his teenage daughter, his nights consumed in Regulators’ MC business. He has no time for anything more than a casual hookup.
Two worlds collide when the dangers of his life crash into the calm of hers.
Can she go beyond her own boundaries and chip her way through to the man known to be as cold as ice?
Model: Shawn Dawson
Photographer: Golden Czermak/Furious Fotog
Cover Designer: Mina Carter
Looking at my phone screen, I smile at the text in front of me.
I’m off 2nite. Movie @ ur house or mine?
Texting back, I tell my best friend I will be at her house after work with takeout. It is not often she gets a Friday night off. Working in a bank, I have every weekend off. Casey’s career path is far different than mine, though, and it is one that requires weekend time.
My day drags on as I review current investment portfolios and market changes. I have the best job ever. I get paid to spend other people’s money as an investment broker here in South Beach. My life is sun, sand, and dollar bills.
Before going to Casey’s, I stop by my condo and change clothes. The down side to my job is the stuffy suits I have to wear: reasonable, past knee-length skirts; reasonable women’s dress pants; and reasonable button up shirts. I might hate them, yet in a sad way, the dress code fits my life—reasonable.
It’s not long into girl’s night before the difference in our lifestyle’s show.
“Damn, we’re not even halfway through the first movie, and you’re ready for bed? What the hell? Grandparents stay up later than you,” my best friend wakes me out of my doze.
“Sorry, some of us keep normal business hours,” I joke back.
“Yeah, your hours scream forty-two, not twenty-four, as does everything else in your life.”
“I’m not that bad,” I protest half-heartedly. However, that voice of doubt says “maybe I am.” Maybe my stiff upbringing has rubbed off on me more than I care to admit.
My parents raised me to be an example. As the oldest of three, I had to be the light to guide my younger sisters, Madyson and Mallory. Everything with my parents was about fitting the mold, keeping up appearances. Their brainwashing worked to some degree. Going away to college did nothing for me in my attempt to escape my overbearing parents, either. No, they live in my head, every rule engraved into my brain matter. Too bad no one warned me there is no cure and no escape once they get those rules engrained into your very being.
I am a twenty-four-year-old virgin. A college educated, suit wearing, have my shit together prude. Yep, that’s me. I wouldn’t know what to do with a penis if it was given to me gift wrapped in Christmas paper, and topped with a bow.
Morgan Ann Powell: pathetic, stiff, and borderline pseudo-old lady—that is me. I am, quite possibly, the only woman in her twenties who can count on one hand how many guys she has kissed. I am not cut out for parties, guys, or any wild times, either. My destiny is to be the old lady who lives alone, feeding all the stray cats in the neighborhood.
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