Karma’s coming for me. I never meant to screw over New York’s most notorious billionaire playboy—but now he’s out for revenge. I’m just your average good girl playing by the rules. But when push comes to shove, and my back is against the wall, I make questionable choices. I thought I’d never lay eyes on him again after that night. Boy, was I wrong. Fate has a sick sense of humor. Now here he is—Connor Quinn, the brooding billionaire I betrayed—glaring at me as our newest PR client. There’s no way this is going to end well for me. Connor’s eyes burn with intense vengeance, promising he won’t stop until he gets his payback. And damn, he looks like he’s going to enjoy every minute of it. I’m so screwed. And not in the fun way. But here’s the thing: Connor Quinn may be sinfully hot when he’s angry but I’m not going down without a fight. Empire State Enemies is a dual-point-of-view, standalone, enemies-to-lovers romance with spice, banter, and a happily ever after.
View MoreSix months laterLexiI love visiting Connor’s Irish cottage.This place is special to me, and not just because it’s where I accidentally flashed a funeral party. Sure, that’s pretty unforgettable, but it’s not the only reason this place holds a special place in my heart.Streaking aside, this cottage is where Connor and I fell in love, even if it took a bit of separation anxiety to realize it.Now, we’re back for a mini-vacation, but this time we’ve brought the whole crew: Grace, Clodagh, Killian, Teagan, and Connor’s mom.We’ve just stuffed our faces with Guinness stew and bowls of seafood chowder, in a small quaint Irish pub, and everything feels perfect. My belly, my soul, and my heart are all content.There’s something about Irish pubs that sets them apart, making them the best in the world. The Irish sure know how to have a good time.The traditional band is absolutely killing it tonight. The fiddler is playing like his life depends on it, and the guy with the tambourine-looking
One year laterConnorI guide Lexi along the street, her hand clutching my arm as I lead her to the surprise. I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little on edge here.“Connor, the last time you blindfolded me, we ended up on a different continent. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was amazing. But it’d be great if I could pack my bags for myself.”I smirk. “That’s not entirely accurate. The last time I blindfolded you, I had you bent over my bed, begging for mercy.”“Okay, fine,” she says, smirking under the blindfold. “The last time in public. I sure hope no one on the street heard you say that.”“Come on, just a few more steps.”I slowly slide the blindfold off, watching her face closely for her reaction.She blinks, taking in the Fifth Avenue townhouse we’re standing in front of.“Wait, are we at Killian’s place? No, hold on . . . Killian’s is farther down, isn’t it?”I feel a grin tugging at my lips. “It’s ours, Lexi. If you want it, that is.”Her eyes go wide, jaw dropping. “What? You bought t
My fingers dance over his stomach, tracing the lines of his abs and hipbones and the trail of hair that leads down to his cock.He chuckles, his muscles jumping under my touch. “Hey, that tickles.”“Sorry,” I laugh, but I’m not sorry at all.I can’t stop touching him. Or looking at him.I want to watch him sleep all night. I want to see those long, giraffe-like lashes flutter, those lips part in silent dreams, and that ridiculously sexy wolf tattoo heave with every breath.I’ll be disappointed in myself if I fall asleep.Christ, I sound like a psycho.We’ve fucked maybe one billion times tonight, and it must be 4 a.m. What a night.Connor looks just as exhausted but blissfully happy as me.He’s sprawled out next to me, one arm propped behind his head like he’s posing for a Calvin Klein ad and the other slung possessively around me.And I swear to god, I’m so happy to be in his arms, so content, that I could almost kiss his armpit with its dark fuzz.That’s how deeply I’ve fallen for t
EPILOGUELater that nightLexiThere’s something about elevators that really gets me going. Makes me feel naughty.It’s the forced proximity, the way you’re locked into this tiny metal cube with someone; your personal space nonexistent.It’s the sensation of that lurch in your stomach as you shoot up or drop down.It’s the fact that it’s a moving box that feels like you’re in a private little world while still being in a space that’s open to anyone who has the audacity to hit the button and interrupt your moment.But most of all, it’s the fact that you’re time-boxed. You’ve got forty seconds, if you’re lucky, to do all the things you’ve been dying to do.So when Connor and I finally escape the police investigation and step into the elevator that will take us to his penthouse, it’s like every over-the-top movie elevator scene brought to life, where the characters can’t keep their hands to themselves.Our hands are all over each other, our mouths are all over each other, our noises are
“Connor,” Grace squeaks.“Connor,” I rasp, staring at him.He’s here. In his tux. Looking like James Bond and the hot felon model guy rolled into one ridiculously handsome package.“Don’t hurt them,” Connor says, his gaze fixed on Deano as if I’m not even there.I want to run into his arms, to bury my face in his chest and just breathe him in. To replace the stench of Deano’s stale cigarette breath with the intoxicating scent of Connor.His chest rises and falls with each labored breath, his jaw locked tight, eyes burning with fierce resolve. “This has nothing to do with Lexi or Grace. I’m the one who got you locked up. Your problem’s with me. Point that thing my way,” he says slowly and deliberately.He takes a step toward Deano, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.Deano keeps his gun aimed right at me.“Shoot me. You know you want to. I’m right here, buddy, yours for the taking. Why go near Lexi when you can have me?” Connor’s voice is steady, but I can hear the undercurrent
“Ask me about him. I won’t mention him unless you do.”Fuck. She hasn’t even said his name, and the pang is sharp. It’s harder in New York than in Maryland. Because I know he’s here, I know he’s out there breathing the same New York air, gazing up at the same sky.I could make a run for it, sprint those twenty blocks like my life depended on it, just to catch a glimpse of him. I know exactly where he is right now.I could drag Grace back to her staff party and face my heartache head-on, because I’m a glutton for punishment. Maybe seeing him in the flesh would finally be the pain I need to forget him entirely. To stamp out that teeny tiny sliver of hope that’s stubbornly clinging to my soul.It’s ridiculous. The dull pain has lasted longer now than the fling itself. It’s not supposed to be that way. I’m supposed to be over him, moved on.And Tom’s great. Funny, handsome, uncomplicated. He’s the antithesis of a brooding billionaire type. Tom is the kind of guy who belongs in my world, t
Lexi turns to hug her sister. That moment—catching sight of her heart-shaped face, the one I’ve tried to shove into the deepest corners of my memory—it hits me like a punch to the gut.There she is. In the flesh. So damn close.She smiles at Grace, says something that makes her laugh, and then throws her head back in laughter—a sound I can almost hear in my head.Then she’s gone. She’s gone before I can do something reckless like vault over the balcony and shatter both legs getting to that taxi.I slump against the railing, feeling this sharp pain in my chest, like I’ve been shot. After all this time, just catching a fleeting glimpse of her undoes me completely.It felt like hours, drinking in every detail. But it must’ve only been a minute, maybe less.I don’t have many regrets in life, but the haunting memory of letting her walk away that night at Killian’s house might just be my biggest.It’s a deep cut that won’t heal, keeping me up at night as I stare at the ceiling, my vision sw
“Someone I used to know,” I say numbly.My chest tightens.Because the woman she’s unintentionally channeling tonight? There’s a very real chance she might be there in the flesh.◆◆◆One of the cons about coming out about my hearing condition is that people have taken to shouting at me, like I can’t hear at all. It’s enough to give me a headache worse than when I was straining to hear people.Even the flirtatious attempt by the marketing department’s latest addition, who loudly declared her single status and interest, felt more like a yell meant for a stadium than a failed-attempt at seduction. If there’s one way to blow your career at my company, it’s to think I’m interested in having a fling with someone on my staff.Yet, there’s one individual who seems determined to keep her distance, the young intern with the heart-shaped face from Yonkers. Our eyes have met several times, but each encounter is met with her quick retreat, a clear avoidance that speaks volumes more than the overt
I find myself glancing away, checking the sad state of my herb garden through the window. The basil’s dead. It makes me want to cry, I tried so hard with it. Some things just aren’t meant to thrive, I guess.When I glance back at the screen, Connor and the stunning professor are bantering so easily, so effortlessly, that I hit pause, unsure if I can stomach more.Despite the deep ache in my chest, I realize part of me is actually happy for him.All this time, I’ve avoided thinking about him, pushed him out of my life and my heart. Yet he’s still managed to find his way into my thoughts.Is he drinking and partying? Is he alone? Is he isolated, pushing everyone away like he did with me? When I lay awake some nights and think about how he pushed me away, how he pushed his family away, I imagine his condition making matters worse.I even wonder, pathetically, if he ever thinks of me anymore. If he’s ever regretted how we fell apart or thought about what we could have been.But seeing him
PROLOGUELexiTonight, I’m someone I barely recognize. A fraud in fake designer heels. A stranger in my own skin.It’s wild how just a few hours of craziness can flip your entire world upside down.This morning, had you asked me about my grand plans for the night, I’d have confidently said I was destined for a glamorous evening sprawled on the couch, ready for a Million Dollar Listing binge-fest with my little sister, Grace. Decked out in my most tragically holey sweats and the kind of underwear that screams “here to support a full bush, not lure in a lover.”We’d be shoveling chips into our mouths, while we live vicariously through the disgustingly rich. Pretending just for a moment that we’re the ones rolling in money.But instead, here I am.Pinned against a wall in a swanky hotel bathroom by New York’s most notorious playboy. Pulse jackhammering as I straddle the line between sheer panic and twisted arousal.It’s the kind of questionable decision you make when you’re not thinking
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