Grinder (Seattle Sharks Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

brunette I saw, and had her home and naked under me in record time. Her curves were wrong, hard where Bailey was soft, enhanced where Bailey was natural, but she’d do.
    I used those few moments like I always did—to forget.
    I just had to get the woman out of the house before Lettie woke up—before Bailey had anything else said to her about our living and employment arrangements.
    Shit. Jessica? Jane? June? What the fuck was her name?
    It wasn’t Bailey, and that’s all that mattered.
    Her throaty moans were fake, but her orgasm wasn’t, and that was all they wanted out of me anyway—well, all they got. I focused on my own orgasm, trying to forget the way she didn’t feel right, didn’t smell right—and thinking of the one person who did until everything else faded away.
    Getting her out of the house before seven wasn’t going to be an issue. She’d fled, yelling what an asshole I was about thirty seconds after I’d come.
    Turns out her name was Joan...at least that’s what she’d been screaming at me as she threw her clothes on.
    She yelled the entire way out of the house, and I followed, a blanket wrapped around my waist in case Lettie woke up. Joan slammed the front door and rattled the light fixture in the entry hall.
    Just my fucking luck, Bailey came into the foyer, her hair a sexy, tousled mess, and her nipples showing through the silk of her pajamas. Jesus, were those shorts or underwear? How could she possibly look so fuckable at 2 a.m.?
    “Is everything okay?”
    “Yeah, it’s great,” I snapped.
    “Right. Well, you enjoy your toga party, I’m going back to bed.” She turned and left me standing in the entry hall with a raging hard-on despite the fact that I’d just come less than ten minutes ago.
    As my feet grew cold against the marble floor, I came to two conclusions. One, women didn’t like to be called Bailey during sex if their names weren’t Bailey, and two...my body knew the difference between the fantasy and the real thing, and it was one tug away from dropping the blanket and finding out if the skin of her hips was softer than the silk she slept in.
    And three—I always did suck at math—I couldn't bring any more women home because I was living with the only woman I wanted...who also happened to be the only woman in Seattle that I couldn't have.
    Fuck. My. Life.

Chapter 4

Bailey
    I set the video monitor down on my nightstand, thankful for Lettie’s soothing white noise machine blocking out the sounds of half the Shark’s team playing poker a floor above her. Jeannine followed me into my room, somehow managing to balance three perfectly salted Margarita glasses and hold the door open for Paige. She came in last with a full pitcher and I quietly shut the door behind them.
    “Get to pouring, Paige,” Jeannine demanded once she’d set the glasses down on the oversized desk which sat—mostly unused—in the far corner of my huge room.
    Paige chuckled, her gorgeous red hair trembling down her shoulders. “Act like you had a rough week.”
    “Perfecting a new menu is just as hard as running a multi-billion-dollar corporation. Actually, it’s harder because I have to constantly think about how things will taste in other people’s mouths.”
    I snorted, taking the full glass Paige handed to me first. “Why does everything you say sound so dirty?”
    Jeannine batted her crystal-blue eyes. “Just lucky I guess.” She took a large pull of the drink Paige finally handed her. “Speaking of other people’s mouths…” she arched an eyebrow at me. “Have you gotten a taste of Gage’s yet? Because damn.”
    Heat flushed my cheeks and I tried my best to ignore the ache at the mention of the want I wouldn’t express.
    “Of course not,” Paige answered before I could. “That would be completely unprofessional. She’s his employee.”
    Jeannine huffed and took a seat at the royal-blue, cushioned armchair next to the desk. “Ha! Everyone doesn’t have to worship the rules