Play the Game (Hannaford Prep, #3)

by J. Bree

He’s a cage fighter, a trained killer, his weapons of choice are his fists or a fucking meat cleaver, he shows no mercy and has no conscience, and, according to my crazy hot girlfriend, he’s a good guy. I think I’m going to have a fucking stroke.

“I’m keeping you forever. I don’t do this shit for anything but keeps.”

Harley scoffs and whispers in my ear, “Stop looking at her like you want to fuck her; you’ll give us all a complex.” I quirk an eyebrow at him. “If we both swung that way, we’d be fucking married by now. I would have wifed her ass last year.” He roars with laughter.

There is nothing quite as satisfying as watching you destroy the male population one by one,”

“I fucking hate this, you’re lucky I love you,” I mumble, and his hand jerks in mine. I

frown and glance up at his shocked face. He swallows roughly but I’m too busy freaking out to realize it’s the first time I’ve told the idiot I love him.