This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters,locations, and incidents are products of the author’simagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, orevents is entirely coincidental.Bared to You belongs to that strangely specific subgenre: Dominant Broken Billionaire Seeks Submissive Human Female For Repetitive Sex and Regular Bouts of Angst. I know it’s kind of fashionable to look down on books like this on principle, but I’m always slightly troubled by knee-jerk hostility to any type of fiction, especially when I’m not its target audience.
Bared To You by Sylvia Day-PDF eBook Free Download
What I’m having trouble getting my head around is the fact that Bared to You is both better and worse than 50 but, unfortunately, I think the ways in which it was better led to me to respond very strongly to ways in which it was worse. So while, for example the kink-idiocy of 50 is deeply annoying (no, Ms James, people are not drawn to BDSM because they didn’t have enough love in their childhood), it’s hard to really get worked up about it because it already exists in such a vortex of stupid.
We should head to a bar and celebrate.”I wasn’t surprised by my roommate’s emphaticpronouncement. Cary Taylor found excuses tocelebrate, no matter how small and inconsequential. I’d always considered it part of his charm. “I’m sure drinking the night before starting a new job is a bad idea.”“Come on, Eva.” Cary sat on our new livingroom floor amid a half-dozen moving boxes andflashed his winning smile. We’d been unpacking for days, yet he still looked amazing. Leanly built,dark-haired, and green-eyed, Cary was a man who rarely looked anything less than absolutely gorgeous on any day of his life. I might have resented that if he hadn’t been the dearest person on earth to me.“I’m not talking about a bender,” he insisted.
“Just a glass of wine or two. We can hit a happy hour and be in by eight.” “I don’t know if I’ll make it back in time.” I gestured at my yoga pants and fitted workout tank. “After I time the walk to work, I’m going to hit the gym.”“Walk fast, work out faster.” Cary’s perfectly executed arched brow made me laugh. I fullyexpected his million-dollar face to appear on billboards and fashion magazines all over the
world one day. No matter his expression, he was a knockout.
His tie was silver and his shirt brilliantly white, thestark absence of color emphasizing those amazing blue irises. Standing there with his jacket open and his hands shoved casually into his pants’ pockets, the sight of him was like running smack into a wall I hadn’t known was there.I jerked to a halt, my gaze riveted to the man who was even more striking than I’d remembered.I had never seen hair that purely black. It was
glossy and slightly long, the ends drifting over hiscollar. That sexy length was the crowning touch ofbad boy hotness over the successful businessman, like whipped cream topping on a hot fudge brownie sundae. As my mother would say, only rogues and raiders had hair like that.My hands clenched against the urge to touch it,to see if it felt like the rich silk it resembled.The doors began to close. He took an easy step forward and pressed a button on the panel to hold them open. “There’s plenty of room for both of us, Eva.”The sound of that smoky, implacable voice broke me out of my momentary daze. How did he know my name?Then I remembered that he’d picked up my ID card when I’d dropped it in the lobby. For a second, I debated telling him I was waiting for someone so I could take another car down, but my brain lurched back into action.What the hell was wrong with me? Clearly he worked in the Crossfire. I couldn’t avoid him everytime I saw him and why should I? If I wanted to get to the point where I could look at him and take hishotness for granted, I needed to see him often enough that he became like furniture.Ha! If only.I stepped into the car. “Thank you.”He released the button and stepped back again. The doors closed and the elevator began its descent.I immediately regretted my decision to share the car with him.
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