BLURB:
Eleven years ago, Carter “Slash” Hudson was ready to end it all. Lost and shattered, devoid of hope, he was saved at the bell by the frankness of one little Cherub.
Back then, he swore he’d always put her first, even if that meant stepping away when she fell for his best friend instead of him.
At the time, it made sense.
Venom was the leader, with Slash willingly his loyal sergeant.
Until Lily is attacked again and Venom decides that he is no longer worthy of her.
Cast adrift, captive to past hurts and current betrayals, Lily leans on Slash. She moves in with him. He becomes her faithful shadow. Then a night of drinking, dancing, and deliberate provocation emboldens Slash to confess his true feelings.
Confused, Lily backs away.
Envious, Slash nurses his bruised ego.
Calculating, Venom makes an ultimatum that forces the stubborn duo into a marriage of convenience.
The woman Slash coveted from afar is now sleeping in his bed as his lawfully wedded wife. In the midst of chaos and carnage, can Slash make Lily see that he’s always been the right choice?
Making Choices is the second book in the Duplicity trilogy. Part of Bella Faust’s Black Shamrocks MC (Australia) series, this dark, psychological romance is a steamy and taboo tale filled with angst, betrayal, and lust set within a love triangle that holds the key to the club’s survival > https://amzn.to/441AfUK
Twisting around, I face Slash. He peers down at me with an inscrutable expression. My heart skips a beat.
Nadia was so very, very right.
Carter Hudson is beautiful.
A giant, ridiculously chiselled God.
The dirty-blond hair that’s caught in a knot at the top of his head beckons my fingers.
Piercing blue eyes that flare with hunger roam my face.
Sparsely tattooed arms circle my waist.
I loop my arms around his neck and allow him to crush my body against his. Every inch of his chest is hard, the eight-pack that I know lays hidden beneath his shirt and cut is etched like stone, but it’s the obvious erection that pokes me in the stomach that captures my attention. I dance my fingertips along the leather covering his spine, then I shove my hands into his silky hair. Slash moves one of his thighs between mine. His hands are splayed around my lower back, just above my arse, and he uses his grip to move us in time to the thumping beat.
Lifting onto my tiptoes, I angle my mouth to his ear. “You’re so pretty.”
He flushes with colour before leaning down to say, “Pretty? That’s the adjective you’re choosin’ to describe me?”
“Pretty sure pretty is a verb.”
“That’s quite a tongue twister you’ve got goin’ there, Cherub.” As the song changes to a slower tempo, Slash adjusts our rhythm but keeps holding me close. “Makes me wonder what else you could do with that tongue.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Would probs have a heart attack to be honest.”
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