Look, Don't Touch: A Dark Billionaire Romance (Pieces of Us)

When people see me walking on a New York City sidewalk, they think mousey btch and stuck-up cnt. How do I know? It’s NYC. They yell it to my face. I smile to myself and keep walking. After all, I have clients that need me. I’m wrapping up my first decade as a licensed clinical psychologist. Things are as good as they’ve ever been. Still, I get the itch. The tattoos worked into my skin take the edge off. When one of my first clients goes on sicide watch and on of my newest challenges the very ground on which I stand, I seek relief only being blindfolded and bound can bring. I’m no longer that little boy who cowers in fear. I’m six three, two hundred fifteen pounds of muscle, and own the largest conglomerates in the States. Still, that boy’s demons live inside me. One in particular looms over my shoulder, always ready to strike. When I see her, perfectly poised and in command, I think nothing of the beautiful exterior. Then I see the demons lurking in her striking green eyes. I’m intrigued. Hooked. Obsessed. I need to know how they came to be and how she hides them so well. I need to dig them out and set her free.