Summer Loving B.B. Hamel ~ Page 1

Read Online Books/Novels:Summer LovingAuthor/Writer of Book/Novel:B.B. HamelLanguage:EnglishISBN/ ASIN:B07FNJXFJJBook Information:

He says he wants to save me.
I think he wants to own me.

My hands behind my back. My face in a pillow.
I was sick, broken. My life was going to end.
Until Julian pulled me back from the edge.
Muscular chest. Defined abs. Gorgeous, bright eyes.
Julian’s a beacon and a black hole. Every move screams sex.
He gave me new purpose, new meaning.
But he’s dangerous. Dark.
There’s something terrifying inside of him.
I can’t look away, but I’m too scared to reach out for his touch.
I crave him. I’m afraid of him.
He’s the only thing standing between me and the people that want to hurt me.
But I don’t think he’s much better.
I should run.
Except I’m tied to the bed, and he’ll be back soon…
And when that door opens, I know I’m in for a punishment.
The only problem is, I can’t wait.

Summer Loving is a steamy, rough-and-tied-up dark romance with adult themes and some violence. It’s only for readers 18+ looking for a dirty time.

Summer Loving is a full length, standalone novel. No cliffhanger. Guaranteed HEA!Books by Author:B.B. Hamel Books

1

Julian

I"m fucking freezing as the wind whips off the ocean. I can just barely make out the waves roll, crest, and slam down onto the soaked, hard-packed sand. I fidget, narrowing my eyes as a cloud drifts in front of the moon, obscuring the light, shoving the entire shoreline into darkness.

I sigh and stretch, trying to keep myself calm. I don"t know how the fuck I ended up out on the beach in the middle of the night. I never should"ve answered Isaac"s call three days ago, and I definitely never should"ve agreed to this bullshit to begin with.

They"re late. That"s the real problem. I can handle fighting on the beach at two in the morning, it"s no big fucking deal. I"ve done it before. But I can"t handle them being late, leaving me standing around like a moron. I"m supposed to be meeting with Vinny D, this local guy that films all these fights and makes serious bank by putting them on YouTube. They look all lo-res and shaky and bullshit, like he just happened to stumble up on it, but really it"s all faked, from the start to the finish. I"ve fought for Vinny a few times, and he"s normally a legit guy, very stand-up, at least as much as you can be in the street fighting business.

I was surprised when Isaac told me that Vinny asked for me specifically. Isaac is a huckster, a classic con man, although not a talented one. He"s charming as all hell and pretty smart, like every con man in history, but he"s greedy while simultaneously too small-minded. He thinks tiny, can"t see the big picture, and his cons usually end up going to shit before he can collect a dime. He doesn"t give up though, that Isaac, you gotta give it to him.

And there are plenty of marks in the rich ass beach town of Avalon, New Jersey.

I"m getting jittery. It"s been a half hour. Vinny knows I"m retired, or at least I haven"t been fighting for almost a year now. I"m doing this as a favor to him and Isaac and for no other reason, but the bastard"s standing me up. I"m starting to seriously think about turning around and heading back to my apartment where a nice cold six-pack is waiting for me. I can crack one open, crawl into bed, and see if I can"t slide into some DMs and maybe get a booty call over. It"s an appealing thought, and I"m practically turning around to walk away, when two figures start shambling toward me over the sand.

I stand there, eyes narrowed. It"s dark as hell, pitch-black really, with the moon behind the clouds. Both figures are in black hooded sweatshirts pulled up tight around their skinny bodies. They spot me and start walking faster, coming directly toward me. I figure these are Vinny"s guys, maybe here to tell me that the shoot"s off, or that Vinny"s on his way with my opponent. I almost hope they"re going to say the shoot"s off, because I"m cold and sore and I don"t feel like beating the piss out of some stranger for a few thousand dollars tonight.

I almost get my wish. The two figures stop short, and the moon drifts out from behind the clouds, lighting up their faces. The figure on the right is a guy, shorter than me, wiry with fast-blinking eyes and a twitchy frame. He"s chewing his lip like he"s confused about something.

The other figure draws more attention. It takes me a second to realize that it"s a girl, a very pretty girl. She"s wrapped in that sweatshirt, the hood pulled up tight, but I can just make out a hint of dark, thick, wavy hair and full lips. My eyes gaze down her body, taking it in, but I don"t have a chance to check her out.

"You the guy"" the man barks at me.

I slowly look back at him. "Excuse me""

"You the fucking guy"" He"s looking around, clearly agitated. The girl"s hopping between her feet. I realize that what I originally mistook for a shadow under her left eye is actually a bruise, dark and purpled, relatively fresh.

I get a bad feeling. I step a few feet closer to the pair, my hands in the air. Clearly they think I"m someone I"m not.

"I don"t know who you"re looking for, but it ain"t me," I say.

The guy stares at me. "I was told he"d be here, right fucking here, waiting right fucking now. How are you not the guy""

"I don"t know what you"re talking about," I say. "Did Vinny send you""

"Vinny" Who the fuck is Vinny""

The guy"s clearly on something, tweaked out and twitching. His eyes widen and narrow, widen and narrow, jittering in his skull. The girl"s gaze is clean and cold, almost sober and analytical.

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