Finder FeesPublication Date: October 13, 2014
(99c Sale! On sale until 11/9)
Synopsis:“When you find her, there are a few things you need to remember. She’s smart and manipulative. She knows how to protect herself. She’s beautiful and she’ll use it to her advantage. But, Mr. Renton, the most important thing to remember… is that she’s mine.”
J.T. Renton is worth millions. He wants for nothing. When he finds Sloan Mathis, he has to have her. Problem is she belongs to another, and J.T.’s not about taking another guy’s girl. But the idea that he can’t have her. Well, it just makes the challenge driven, J.T. Renton want his latest find that much more.
Finder Fees ~ A TroubleMaker Novel
J.T. Renton is what you might call a Finder. But the one thing this former bounty hunter no longer finds is people. That is until he’s offered a finder fee he just can’t resist. What J.T. doesn’t know is his latest find comes with a hidden fee, one that could end up costing J.T. his well-guarded heart.
Sloan Mathis is on the run from her dangerous ex. So when she encounters J.T. Renton, it takes her a second to realize the arrogant, sexy, and oh-so-frustrating Finder has actually mistaken Sloan for her twin sister. And to uncover what’s going on with her gone missing sister, Sloan lets J.T. believe that he’s found what he’s been looking for.
“Sloan, I presume,” he returns with a confident, easy smile. “Come in.” He takes a step back. “And please call me ‘J.T.’”
Shit! The guy’s voice is even all come-hithery. A shiver of eagerness and hotness ripples up my spine as I enter the room, a luxury suite far bigger than my shitty apartment. Familiar with the upscale hotel from previous jobs, I know the bed is in a separate room.
My hot new client must have mad quid. Not only is there a fireplace, but the damn room comes with a bar. After he closes the door, that’s where he walks, and that thigh-clenching aroma lingering in the air intensifies with each deliberate step he takes. And me, I’m watching attentively as he takes each one.
“Would you like a drink?” He lifts the glass whiskey decanter to pour himself one.
Trailing my eyes over his broad shoulders, back, and narrow waist, my mouth starts to water, but I’m not thirsty for liquor. I’m used to guys in tats, t’s, and jeans at Lucky’s shop—guys like Trent Skinner, who frequent The InkWell. But this physically fit, pompous ass, somehow pulls off debonair while still managing to look downright beastly. His dark dress slacks take nothing away from his fine-looking ass. Makes it difficult to ignore that in a few minutes, his rampant body will be naked, and my hands will be all over him.
“No, thanks,” I murmur.
Regardless of my response, he proceeds to pour a second drink.
Both glasses in hand, he turns to me with another dimple-dashing smile. “Please come and sit down.” He sets one glass on the coffee table in front of the sofa, then settles into the adjacent chair.
Rule number one: Never fraternize with the client. Nonetheless, determined eyes pull me to him. If nothing else, I’ll set his fine-looking ass straight. I drop my bag on the cushion, and my ass hits the sofa. I cross my legs, straighten my back, and match his penetrating stare. “Just to be clear, Mr. Renton, I’m a certified massage therapist, and I don’t offer any kind of extra services.”
The side of his mouth lifts into a crooked smile. “I’m pleased to hear that, but to be honest, I didn’t call you here for any extra services…or even for a massage, for that matter.”
He sets his glass on the table, places his forearms on his thighs, and leans forward. “No.”
My heartbeat quickens. “Then why did you call me here?”
“Jack doesn’t own me,” I say, confident that Max would agree. I can’t really see my sister belonging to anyone.
His dark eyebrow rises. “No?”
“Hmm. He seems to think a bit differently about that. He made it perfectly clear that you are his and—”
“I don’t care what he made perfectly clear. I’m not an object to be owned.”
“No.” He chuckles. “You’re not, but when a man claims a woman as his, it’s not the same as claiming ownership of an object. It’s actually more primitive than that.”
“More like aboriginal,” I say with a huff.
“Men are savages,” he agrees, with a nod of the head. “But Jack’s an alpha. Of course he felt the need to let this alpha know he already branded you.”
“Branded me?” I laugh at the ridiculousness of his words. “So…Jack thinks of me like a horse or a fucking cow? Is that it?” I really can’t see Max approving of that either.
“That’s not the kind of branding I’m talking about.”
“Really?” I smirk, lean in, and lower my voice. “Then tell me, how does a species of your kind mark what is his?”
“By…touch.” His eyes meander down my body, awakening every sexual compulsion along the way. “We seduce, make it known that no other man can ever give our female the satisfaction she seeks.” His slow, seductive survey pauses at my partly opened mouth. “Our touch is all she needs. When she’s hungry, it’s all her body craves. Our mark is upon her, and every other male can see it.” His eyes make their way to mine.
Drooling, I consciously need to tell myself to swallow. “Uh…” I choke out between a nervous giggle. “So there’s, like, some kind of invisible mark that only the savages can see?”
“Something like that.” He grins.
“Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“No. I think you’re smart, original, and beautiful.” It came out all matter-of-factly, but his direct compliments stunt my laughter, and before I can think of a snappy comeback, he asks, “Do you wanna know how they really see it?”
“I can only imagine.” I roll my eyes, still intrigued and secretly wanting to hear his answer.
“She shows them.” His head lowers, and his tempting mouth inches again too close to mine.
“By not allowing another male to get to close.” His eyes darken, and his voice deepens. “You see, the alpha who claims her is the only man she wants, and if she takes another, she’ll lose him. But she doesn’t want to lose him, because deep in her heart, she knows that she belongs to him.” He sifts his fingers through my hair, leans to the left, and whispers in my ear, “And even deeper inside,” his hot breath singes my flesh, “so much deeper inside of her, she knows that he is completely hers.”
After inhaling his warm, erotic scent, I breathe. “So she holds some of the power then too?”
J.T. slowly pulls back with a small smile, his fingers still tangled in my hair. “Not just some. She holds it all.”
Somewhere between Buffalo and Niagara Falls In a quiet suburb is where you'll find Kelly. When she's not writing, she's out meeting new people while representing a group of reputable nursing facilities in the WNY area.
Kelly writes steamy, blush producing romance novels. Her motto "Bad boys, give 'em a little time and experience, and they will evolve into misbehaving men!"
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