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I'm excited to reveal the cover to my upcoming novel Do Bad Things. I'm also thrilled to announce it is available for PREORDER at a special $0.99 price!
My mother is dying. Without the experimental trial she’ll succumb to her cancer. Our bills are out of control and I’m desperate. Desperate enough to accept a mysterious, sexy stranger’s inappropriate proposal. The terms...
1-My body is his to do as he pleases
2-He doesn’t care about my pleasure
3-I say yes and I get paid
4-Deny him one time and it all ends
I should stop what I started, but it didn’t take long to become addicted to his forbidden touch. Now all I want is for him to do bad things...
When did Mr. Wrong become Mr. Right?
Jameson Clark spiraled out of control years ago. Drugs and alcohol nearly ruined his life but somehow he managed to get himself back on track. His career as a political consultant is at an all time high but his personal life is lacking. Old habits die hard but the addictions that almost killed him must stay buried. He needs an outlet. Something to take the edge off. Sex. Unattached, no commitment sex. He’s found the perfect candidate for what he has in mind.
Struggling legal intern Cecilia Keller’s world is crumbling around her. College debts and her mother’s medical bills are more than she can handle. Working hard seems to be getting her nowhere. No matter what she does she can’t manage to get ahead until an intriguing stranger with a tormented soul makes her an improper offer. Straight up sex. When he wants it and how he wants it. Nothing else. No small talk, no dating, and definitely no intimacy. No one has to know he’s paying her.
As the unlikely pair move forward neither expect for their arrangement to turn into anything more than what it is. When Cecilia becomes infatuated with Jameson she knows he can never be the one she can turn to. What happens when she breaks one of the terms of their deal? Can Jameson walk away without looking back? Just who needs who?
Do you want to read the first chapter? Of course you do!
*Contains Mature Content
Copyright © 2017, Ella Jade
“Ahh...” I tried to hold back the moan that escaped my lips as I gripped the table he bent me over.
That first thrust though... God, what’s wrong with me? I’m getting fucked by the biggest prick in D.C. and he’s paying me. I promised myself I wouldn’t like it but I couldn’t help it.
When he twisted his fingers in my hair and tugged, I bit my lip, trying to suppress another moan. The harder he slammed into me, the deeper he went and the wetter I became.
Grabbing my hip in his firm grasp, he whispered into my ear. “Do you start getting wet in the elevator on your way up to me, Cecelia?”
I didn’t answer as he pumped in and out. His rules were simple and they didn’t require conversation. When he propositioned me outside the cafe where I worked two weeks ago he made it extremely clear what he wanted. I found his smug demeanor intriguing the few times he came into the shop. He’d always been polite, but looked as if he was sizing me up for something.
“If you agree to this,” he said. “And I believe you will.” His kissable lips curved into a devious smirk. “My rules, my playpen.”
“Nothing weird, right?”
“Depends on your definition of weird.”
The only reason I even considered what he offered was because I needed the money. Everyone needed more money. I mean who didn’t want more? But I really needed the money. It was a life or death situation.
“I want straight up sex. When I want it and how I want it. No small talk, no dates, and no intimacy. I text and you come.” He smirked again and his meaning wasn’t lost on me. “Maybe. That doesn’t really matter to me. I get off and you get paid. If you turn me down once then it all ends.”
He pushed his sunglasses up, resting them over his perfectly styled, dark hair. His smoldering green eyes bore into mine, and as awkward as this conversation was, I hung on his every word. As if they were the only thing that mattered. I’d been in this man’s company a handful of times. When he asked me to join him outside so he could ask me something, I should have slapped him over his indecent proposal. Instead, it took him less than ten minutes to persuade me to say yes. Like I said, life or death, and desperate people did desperate things.
“When do you get wet for me, gorgeous?” His silky, authoritative voice brought me back to the moment. The moment I shouldn’t be enjoying, but I was seconds away from exploding and he knew it. “Is it when you get my text?” He slipped his hand under my dress and squeezed my breast. “The one that tells you to drop everything and let me fuck you?”
Bingo! My legs tightened and before I could will myself to stop, I spiraled out of control, unraveling in his hold giving in to every forbidden desire he represented. Why did I give him the satisfaction of my climax every time? This was supposed to be business.
“Predictable.” He tugged my head back and gazed into my eyes. “So predictable.”
I swallowed back my shame and let him finish. I’d be out of here in a few minutes and I could forget about this meeting. Like that would happen. Jameson Clark wasn’t forgettable. I found myself checking my phone for his message a hundred times a day. The days when he didn’t summon me were the hardest. Not because I wouldn’t be making a hefty sum of money for twenty minutes of my time, but because I wouldn’t see him. He was my escape. My addiction.
His breathing intensified as he increased his relentless tempo. With a firm grasp on my breast, he let out a guttural moan, filling the condom. The warmth of his release gave me a sense of twisted pride. This man had changed me in a matter of weeks. I couldn’t say if it was for the better, but I had certainly changed.
I hugged the sleek wood table, noting the smudges my fingerprints left in his lavish foyer. With my backside exposed to him, I didn’t breathe as he stepped away from me and adjusted his pants, raising the zipper. He tossed an envelope by the side of my face and headed for the staircase.
“Leave through the service entrance,” he ordered.
Don’t I always?
Our visits were becoming routine. I waited until he was upstairs before I moved. Pulling my dress down, I stood straight and searched for my panties. I wouldn’t find them. I never did. I slid the envelope from the table, knowing I didn’t have to look inside. He was a man of his word and the thousand, dispensed in ten crisp one-hundred dollar bills, would be in there.
Just before I exited, the sound of the pipes filling with water echoed from above. He was washing away our encounter. I’d be doing the same once I got home. The odd thing was, he didn’t make me feel dirty and that bothered me.
Thirty minutes later I was back at my own apartment. I’d been gone a little over an hour. It took me longer to get there and back then it did to have sex. I shook it off, tucking any thought of Jameson away for now. I’d think about him later. Usually just before I drifted to sleep.
“Hey.” Carla, the lovely woman who lived across the street from me, stepped out of my mom’s room. “She’s asleep.”
“Did she eat?” I asked in a hopeful voice.
“She wasn’t hungry.”
“She never is.” I sighed. “Thanks for checking on her while I was gone.”
“You know I don’t mind,” she said. “She was awake for a bit so we had a nice conversation.”
“Good.” When I pushed my hair behind my ear, the memory of him pulling it as he thrust inside me flashed before my eyes. Stop it! “Did she say anything about that trial the doctor told us about? I think we’re going to do it.”
“Really?” Carla seemed skeptical. “Your mom said it would add some additional expenses and that maybe...” Carla didn’t finish her thought.
“I’ve been saving and picking up all sorts of extra shifts at the, um, cafe.”
“No amount of extra shifts will pay for what she needs.”
“You’d be surprised.” I just made eight grand in two weeks. “I have a little money saved.”
“Keep your optimism.” Carla put her arm around me. “Your mom needs it.” She pointed to the kitchen. “I made chicken soup. It’s in the fridge.”
I hugged her. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“I’m happy to help in any way I can.” She glanced at my mom’s door. “I’m praying for you both.”
“Thanks.” I waved as she stepped onto the porch. “Talk to you tomorrow.” Closing the door, I leaned against it, composing myself. It had been a long week, but I wanted to check on my mom before calling it a night.
Pushing the door open to her room, I peeked in. Her eyes were closed, the TV on in the background. The nightstand covered with various medicine bottles. None of them offered a cure. Her cancer had spread and as positive as I wanted to be, my heart told me it was almost time.
“Is that you, CC?”
“Yeah.” I entered the room. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” She patted the side of the bed, so I took a seat. “Where did you go?”
“To see about a job.”
“You already have two.” She shook her head. “You’re working so hard.”
“I don’t mind, Mom.” I worked at the cafe on the weekends but during the week I interned for a local senator. I’d been with him since college, hoping he’d offer me a higher paying position. At the very least, I’d been networking and keeping my ears open to new opportunities. “I’m going to call the doctor tomorrow and tell him we’re ready to move forward with that experimental trial he talked about. He said you were a good candidate for it.”
“About that.” She opened her eyes. “I’m too tired to discuss it now but I think I’m going to reconsider that.”
“What do you mean?” The emerging doom that had been plaguing me all week resurfaced. The only time I seemed to forget just how sick my mom was, and I hated to admit this, was when I was with Jameson.
“I mean it might not be the right course for me.”
“If you’re worried about the money, don’t be. I don’t care if insurance doesn’t cover everything.” It wasn’t just about the money, but I didn’t want to accept what she was trying to tell me. “You focus on getting better and I’ll handle the rest.”
“Okay.” She smiled, too tired to fight me. “You’re a good kid. I’m proud of you.”
Would you still be proud if you knew what I’m doing in my spare time?
“Good night.” She closed her eyes. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel up to sitting outside.”
“That would be great.”
As I watched her take slow, quiet breaths I wondered how many more she had left in her. Yes, desperate people did desperate things...
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Available September 26, 2017