Download Tempting the Player (Gamble Brothers #2) by J. Lynn, Jennifer L. Armentrout [M.J] [REQ].epub torrent from books category on. Tempting the Player (A Gamble Brothers Novel) by J. Lynn. Chad Gamble, all- star pitcher for the Nationals, is one of the best players on—and off—the field. Copyright (c) by Jennifer L. Armentrout. Right across from her name, separated by a few innocent dots and written in crimson ink, was the name of the best man: Chase Gamble. Well, she was the maid of honor, and any of the other Gamble brothers would've been fine as best man.
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Armentrout Jennifer L (J. Lynn) - [Gamble Brothers 03] - Tempting the Bodyguard [Entangled - dokument [*.epub] He can protect her from everyone except himself. Alana Gore And so was their pro baseball player brother, Chad. Despite the. The Unleashing - Shelly ruthenpress.info KB .. J. Lynn. Tempting the Player (#2), Part 1 of 2. J. Lynn. Tempting the Player (#2), Part 2 of 2. 3: Wait for You - Lynn ruthenpress.info KB. Trust in Me - J ruthenpress.info KB. Be with Me - J ruthenpress.info KB. The Proposal - J ruthenpress.info KB. Like Show.
No good shit comes from that. She needed to figure out who was behind these letters, and that wasn't going to be easy. Granny always said that her brass balls-lovely-were never going to win her any friends or a husband. Apparently, they had won her a stalker, though.
That had to count for something. Alana had quite the list of people who had reason to be upset with her, too.
But to send her threatening letters for a year? The latest even going as far as to warn that he'd be seeing her tonight? Sure, she ticked people off with her hard-nosed tactics, but those facts had to narrow down the pool of suspects. While she had excellent sleuthing skills, that's not what she needed tonight.
She needed protection. And she knew who to go to. Hopefully he would be wearing more than boxers this time around. Although, she wasn't going to complain about the eyeful she had gotten when she'd tracked down Chad to his brother's house nearly three months ago.
Through the course of her career working with sports stars and actors, she had seen a lot of good-looking men-men who would have sensible women all across the nation dropping their panties. But that man, the eldest Gamble brother, had officially been the hottest male she'd ever laid eyes on. She wasn't sure if it was the wild shoulder-length hair or those startling blue eyes. Or it could've been those incredibly wide shoulders that would make any woman feel petite, or that rock-hard chest and those abs,,, "What am I doing?
Going to him for help had nothing to do with envisioning him in those boxers or showing off those hard, naked abs, no matter how touchable those abs appeared to be. And the last thing she needed to be doing right now was mentally molesting the man.
It was highly unlikely that he'd be happy to see her, but he sort of owed her his services.
She had played a rather excellent matchmaker when it came to his brother and Ms. She was still waiting on that wedding invitation. Scooping up the letters, Alana placed them inside a file folder labeled asshole and shoved the folder into her leather satchel.
She left her apartment, in search of a very different type of asshole. He needed to continue ignoring it. He should ignore it. What was going on in front of him should have his undivided attention. Any other time, it would. On her knees between his widespread legs, Paula was in a position he doubted she was normally in when it came to her day job, being a district attorney and all.
She ran her hands up and down his thighs, each pass bringing the tips of her red-painted fingernails to the center of his legs. Her movements were well practiced. She knew what he liked. The red corset she wore was laced up tight, practically shoving her caramel-colored breasts up to her chin. Some men were into breasts, others more about the ass. Chandler was into the female body in general. All of it. But when he was with Paula, he turned into a breast man.
Those things were the stuff that wet dreams were made of. But tonight? The last couple of months? The head on his shoulders was doing more thinking than any other place on his body, which was kind of a damn shame. Paula slipped a hand up the inside of his thigh. Or anyone, from what I've heard. He didn't like the idea of anyone keeping tabs on him.
For some reason, he imagined much smaller breasts plumped up over the lacy trim and little bows. And there were about a million different things wrong with that. Irritated, he scrubbed the palm of his hand along his jaw. The faint stubble pricked his skin. What the hell was wrong with him? He'd been at Leather and Lace for almost an hour now and by this time he would've already been behind a woman, his hands on her hips, sliding in and out. He laughed drily. You're moody and quiet by nature, babe, but disappearing for months?
I was worried. That wasn't likely. Paula was good, great even. And their sexual,,,tastes matched, but when he wasn't around, there was always someone else.
Like him, she enjoyed sex. Lots, really, except lately, he'd been only getting it on with his hand. Thick lashes lowered as she toyed with the knot between her breasts. I can do that. Paula was a tall woman, and in her "come fuck me" heels, she nearly reached his six feet and four inches. She pivoted gracefully, and he got an eyeful of her ass. The scrap of lace between her cheeks revealed more than it hid as she swayed her way over to the chaise longue across from him.
It was a nice view-a beautiful view. Paula's skin was like smooth coffee, and he knew from personal experience that an hour with that woman could make you forget a year of life, but,,, Any other time he'd be as hard as a brick wall and ready to go,,,and to go again, but the lust stirring in his veins wasn't anything to write home about.
He definitely wasn't feeling what little Miss Paula was. She cast a look over her shoulder as she bit down on her lip. Still nothing at all. She placed a shapely knee on the lounge and bent over, planting her hands near the top of the chair, and then brought her other leg up. Nice-very nice. And yet there was really nothing happening in his jeans. Bending down, she stuck her ass in the air. It was official.
His cock had taken a vacay into celibacy land. Tipping his head back, he stifled a groan. What in the fuck was he even doing here? It was either this or hang out with his brothers, and who in the hell in their right mind wanted to do that shit? All Chase and Chad talked about were their women.
Not that he begrudged them their happiness, but shit, it was like hanging out with two old women. Especially since Chad was knee-deep in wedding plans. And if he had to hear about the difference between ivory and white one more time, he was going to shoot someone. Hell, ask him a year ago if he thought the playboy of the three of them would be the one to marry first, and he would've laughed straight in your face.
But Chase was in love. And so was their pro baseball player brother, Chad. Despite the shit they'd dealt with growing up. The thing was, and contrary to everyone's assumption of him-including his brothers- Chandler didn't have any problems with the idea of settling down. While those who were unaware of the Gamble brothers' upbringing thought Chandler was the most affected by it due to his,,,habits and the fact he rarely stayed with one woman, truth was, he had enough common sense to know that not all relationships were like his parents'.
Spending time with the Daniels family-Chase's fiancee's family-had helped prove that men and women could live happily together and all that shit. In reality, he had always been the least affected by his bastard of a father and train wreck of a mother. He just hadn't met the woman he wanted to be with for more than a few hours here and there or involve in any aspect of his life.
Yes, you have, whispered an annoying-as-fuck voice. Yeah, he was going to push that thought right out of his head. He really should get the fuck out of here. The lack of interest was one of the reasons why he hadn't frequented Leather and Lace lately. And this was the only place he'd do this in. He never brought women back to his home.
In fact, Chad's ex-publicist from hell had been the only woman to ever get a pretty little foot through his front door. His cell started vibrating again. Jesus H. Leaning back in his chair, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. Curiosity perked when he saw that it was his office number.
Chandler's lips tipped up at the corners. Actually, you," he replied, and the sound of fingers tapping along a keyboard echoed in the background.
Most people who came looking for his services didn't ask for him. He owned and ran CCG Security, and on very rare cases, he took the jobs instead of letting his team handle them.
Very rare. Murray snorted. And before you ask, she was out the door and down the street before I could get my gimpy ass out of the chair and follow her to get her tags.
Chandler had a matching bullet wound on his arm and his thigh from an incident a few years back. Shaking her lace-covered ass at him, Paula purred softly. All right. That managed to get his attention. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher. To those who believe,,, Chapter One The ivory invitation with its elegant calligraphy and lacy embellishments felt more like a humiliation time bomb just waiting to blow up in Madison Daniels's face than a beautiful wedding announcement.
Man, did she have a problem. Mitch, her big brother by three years-her only brother-was actually getting married this weekend. She was totally happy for him.
Thrilled, even. His fiancee, Lissa, was a great gal, and they'd become quick friends. Lissa would never do her brother wrong. A Hallmark movie could be based on the two. Met freshman year at University of Maryland, fell madly in love, got great corporate jobs straight out of college, and the rest was history.
No, Mitch and Lissa weren't the problem. And a wedding held deep in Northern Virginia's vineyards definitely wasn't the problem. In fact, she'd take an asteroid with "Earth's My Bitch" emblazoned on it and headed her way over this.
Her gaze dropped to the invitation, down to the list of attending bridesmaids and groomsmen, and winced. She blew out a slow breath, stirring the long strands of brown hair that had escaped her messy twist.
Right across from her name, separated by a few innocent dots and written in crimson ink, was the name of the best man: Chase Gamble.
God hates me.
That was it. Well, she was the maid of honor, and any of the other Gamble brothers would've been fine as best man. But oh no, it had to be Chase Gamble. He was her older brother's best friend, confidante, homie, whatever-and otherwise known as the bane of Madison's existence. Her assistant was a study in how a fashion disaster on some people could work for others.
Today, Bridget wore a fuchsia pencil skirt paired with a purple peasant shirt sporting large polka dots. A black scarf and leather boots completed the look. Mysteriously, she actually looked good in what should have been a clown's costume. Bridget was bold. Madison sighed. She could use a little bold right now. At least then you'd be having wild monkey sex instead of lusting after your brother's best friend during the whole wedding.
A man who's already rejected you once, might I add. She was crafty like that. All she could see was the steel and cement of the museum next to her building-the Smithsonian, which always made her chest swell with pride.
She'd worked hard to become one of the privileged few who got to work for this amazing cultural institution. Bridget leaned down into Madison's face and caught her attention again. You may have a secret, undying love for Chase Gamble, but if he hasn't recognized your awesomeness by now the man is clearly mental and so not worth this angst. Disappointing, but I can deal. And I can even forgive him for changing his mind the one time we almost hooked up. Well, sort of.
Teasing me in front of my family, treating me like a kid sister, when all I want to do is shake him,,,and get him naked. She was trying to add the voice of reason to what was going to be the worst weekend of Madison's life. Dropping the invitation on her desk, she leaned back in her chair and sighed, idly contemplating calling the history department. Ever since she could remember, there was Chase.
Always Chase. They'd grown up on the same block in the suburbs of DC. Her brother and Chase had been inseparable since, well, forever. Which meant, being the baby of the family, Madison had nothing better to do as a kid than follow behind Mitch and his friends. She'd idolized Chase.
It was hard not to with his masculine beauty, easy candor, and downright illegal dimples. As a boy and into adulthood, Chase had a fierce protective streak that could make a girl's heart do a little flutter in her chest. He was the type of guy who would rip off his shirt in the middle of Snowmageddon and give it to a homeless person on the street, but there'd always been this raw, dangerous edge to him.
Chase wasn't the kind of guy anyone messed with. Once in high school, a boy had gotten a little too frisky with her in his car parked outside her parents' house, and Chase had just been leaving when he'd heard her muffled protests as a hand went somewhere she didn't want. After that run-in, the guy didn't walk right for several weeks.
And the occurrence pretty much cemented a puppy love that just wouldn't die. Everyone and their mother had known she had it bad for Chase throughout high school and the first two years of college. Christ, it was a well-known theory that wherever Mitch and Chase were, Madison wasn't too far behind.
Sad as it was-and it was pathetic-she had attended the University of Maryland because they had.
Everything changed her junior year in college, the night he'd opened his first nightclub. After that,,,she did everything in her power to avoid Chase. Not that it worked or anything. One would think in a city as overpopulated as Washington, DC, she'd be able to avoid the rat bastard, but oh no, the laws of nature were a cruel, unrelenting bitch.
Chase was everywhere. She'd rented one of the smaller apartments on the second floor of the Gallery, and weeks later, he'd bought one of the penthouses on the top floor.