Fair Game (The Rules #1) (47 page)

Early August

I
stride into the house, polishing off the bottle of water I brought with me to soccer practice when I stop short at the view greeting me in the kitchen.

It’s Jade, bent over the oven with the door open as she peers inside, her perfect ass wagging in my direction. She’s wearing a brightly printed bikini with a little white coverup skirt over it and she looks like something out of a dream.

A particularly dirty one.

Quietly I sneak up on her, careful not to pounce when the oven door is still open. She closes it and resets the timer, then turns to approach the counter opposite where she stands when she spots me.

And smiles.

“Hey, sweaty man,” she greets, a coy smile curling her perfect lips. Her skin is tinged with pink, her hair is pulled up in to a high ponytail and I’d bet big money she just spent some leisure time out by the pool. That bikini barely covers her goods and my hands itch to touch all that bared skin. “How was practice?”

“Exhausting. Hot like the depths of hell.” All true. I approach her, drawing her into my arms and holding her close. She pretends to protest, like she hates it when I’m shirtless and sweaty after a particularly hard soccer practice, but I know she’s full of it.

She loves me like this. I don’t know how many times I’ve pulled her into my sweaty arms and the next thing I know she’s attacking me. Yanking off my shorts and grabbing my cock and trying her best to get me inside her as fast as possible.

My girl is dirty. Insatiable.

And I love it.

“Mmm, well I made cupcakes so that should make your day brighter,” she murmurs against my neck just before she kisses it.

I close my eyes and savor the feel of her in my arms. We’ve established a steady routine over the summer that’s worked out perfectly. I love having her living in my house, sharing my bed. She’s quite the cook, her skills not just limited to baking. We spend a lot of time by the pool, she works part-time at the candle shop and as every day passes, I realize I’m more and more in love with this girl.

Life couldn’t get any fucking better.

“Tell me you made homemade frosting,” I murmur against her hair.

She pulls away slightly to smile up at me. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“A woman after my own heart.” I lean in to kiss her but she dodges my lips.

“I thought I already owned your heart,” she teases, her fingers dancing across my chest.

My skin tightens at her touch and my cock hardens beneath my shorts. Damn it. It’s like she looks at me wrong and I get a hard on. Not that it’s a bad thing. We always put my condition to good use.

“You do,” I whisper, taking her hand and placing it directly in the center of my chest. “You own every piece of me, baby. Just like I own every piece of you.”

Her eyes darken in that way they do when I know she’s aroused. I have all her tells figured out. When you spend as much time together as we do, that happens. And I love it. I love her. “I like it when you talk possessive.”

“Really? Because when I won you in that bet and I claimed you as my prize, you slapped my face. Hard,” I remind her.

She smiles and reaches up to cradle my cheek. “That’s before I knew better.”

“Knew better?” I reach for her ass and cup her cheeks, tempted to yank her bikini bottom off and take her right here in the kitchen.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

“I had no idea that
I
was the one who was the real winner.” She smiles and pushes up on her tiptoes to press a lingering kiss to my lips. “I love you, Shep. Shepard. Sexy Shep. Man of my dreams. Owner of my heart,” she murmurs.

“I love you, too,” I whisper just before I deepen the kiss.

More than she’ll ever know.

Writing a book isn’t easy, not always. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes it feels like pulling teeth, each word painfully yanked from my brain.

Luckily enough, FAIR GAME wasn’t like that for me at all. I adored writing every word of this book, despite my being incredibly sick during the last few weeks I worked on it. I fell in love with Shepard Prescott the moment he appeared on the page and so did Jade, despite her early protests. I adore Jade too. I love everyone in this book and can’t wait for you all to read Gabe’s and Tristan’s stories.

There are people I need to thank who helped during the writing process of FAIR GAME. First up—huge, massive thank you to Autumn Hull who read. And read. And read this book as I fed it to her in chunks. Thanks for dealing with me, pushing me, and making sure I got this book done on time!

To Katy Evans who fell in love with Shep right from the beginning and encouraged me to keep me going. I don’t know how I’d do this writing thing without you.

I have to thank my family for putting up with me while I’m always, always, always working. Your support and patience means the world for me. I love you.

And to the readers, the bloggers, the reviewers, for reading my books, spreading the word, chatting with me on social media, sending me emails, stopping by to talk to me at a signing…you all means so much to me. I would be nothing without your support so from the bottom of my heart: thank you.

Check out an excerpt from OWNING VIOLET, the first in Monica Murphy’s The Fowler Sisters series…

Chapter One

Violet

T
onight, my life is going to change.

In preparation for it, I spent all day at the spa. Treated myself to a facial, massage, wax, mani, and pedi. My skin is smooth, my face is clear, my fingers and toes are painted a perfect demure pink. My muscles are relaxed and loose, but my brain . . .

My brain is jumpy. My stomach is a mess of nerves. My outward appearance is the exact opposite of my inside because so much is on the line. Everything I’ve strived toward these last few years is coming to the final pinnacle tonight.

Finally.

I found a dress to wear for this special moment a few days ago at Barneys, one I knew Zachary would approve of. A navy-blue sheath, it hits just above the knee and skims over my curves, subtly sexy because he doesn’t like anything overt. Obvious.

Meaning he hates everything my older sister wears, does, says. He doesn’t much approve of the way my blunt baby sister acts, either.

But that’s fine. He’s going to ask me to marry him tonight. Not Lily or Rose.

Me.

There’s nothing obvious about me. I’m the epitome of understated. I would make the perfect politician’s wife. Standing behind my man, offering my never-ending support all while wearing the pleasant smile I’ve mastered over the years. There have been a few slipups in the past. I struggled once. Fought for my life, really, and survived.

My father and grandmother like to pretend none of that ever happened. Zachary doesn’t even know about it. It’s a moment in time—before I met him—the family prefers to sweep under the rug.

It’s so ugly, Violet, Father told me once. Wouldn’t you rather forget?

So I try. For the family.

Zachary arrives at my apartment right on time because heaven forbid he’s ever late. One of the many qualities I admire about him. He’s punctual, thoughtful, efficient, handsome, and smart. So incredibly smart. Some call him conniving. Others call him cutthroat. Rumors swirl that there are other women. I’m not stupid. I have my suspicions. They might have even been confirmed once or twice. But when we’re engaged, when we’re married . . .

That will change. It has to.

Zachary and I have a perfect relationship. The sort of relationship I’d dreamed of since I was a little girl. One that Lily mocks constantly, but what does she know about love?

Sex and addiction and getting into trouble, she knows plenty. But love? I don’t think she’s had a real relationship in her life.

I have. Boyfriends throughout junior high and high school, then my one very serious boyfriend in college. The one I’d originally thought I might marry. The one I gave my virginity to midway through freshman year. I’d been a real holdout, one of the last remaining virgins among my friends.

He dumped me the beginning of our sophomore year. Right after everything . . . happened. The incident, I like to call it. The thing no one likes to talk about. So I don’t talk about it either.

After the breakup, I remained single. Tried my best to rise above everything that happened by focusing on finishing school and then on my career, my legacy at Fleur Cosmetics.

I might have quietly fallen apart for a short period of time that not many know about. We kept it secret. Father didn’t want any more public humiliations. We lost Mom so long ago and he always said I was the most like her. Delicate but determined. Smart but not always practical.

I lived up to his expectations for a brief, not-so-shining moment. I needed therapy. I needed medication. More than anything, I needed to be numb. Craved being numb. Feeling emotions only hurt, and I was so tired of hurting.

But eventually I knew I needed to learn how to cope on my own.

Father let me return to work after my brief stint away. And when Zachary Lawrence started working for the company two years ago, getting to know him, I was soon interested. And so was he. I could tell. I didn’t care if at first he talked to me only because I was the CEO’s daughter. I flirted. I wanted his attention.

And I eventually got it. Got him.

I knew dating someone I worked with wasn’t the smartest move, but I couldn’t help it. Where else can I meet a man of such good quality? Someone I can trust? I have trust issues. No surprise, considering what I’ve been through.

While my father calls most of the shots, the company really is a family business. Both Rose and I work there. Even my grandmother still comes in and consults, though she’s now eighty-five and mostly retired.

She loves Fleur Cosmetics and Fragrance. My grandma is Fleur Cosmetics and Fragrance. She started the brand. It was her face that appeared in the magazine advertisements and billboards for so many years. Dahlia Fowler is a legend in the cosmetics industry.

And despite my weaknesses and my father’s once complete lack of faith in me, I desperately want to follow in her footsteps. With Zachary by my side, of course, considering he works in the brand marketing department and has higher aspirations. The two of us could take Fleur to the next level. I know it. He knows it.

Together, we’re a force to be reckoned with. And once we’re married . . .