Series: Dirty Duet, #2
Published by Paige Press LLC on September 11th 2017
Also in this series: Dirty Filthy Rich Men
Also by this author: Find Me, First Touch, Dirty Filthy Rich Men
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I’ve discovered Donovan Kincaid’s secret.
It’s dirty and filthy and rich – as dirty and filthy and rich as he is – and it haunts me as much as he ever did.
Even after knowing what I know now, I still want to talk to him, to touch him. But there’s an ocean between us, and I’m not sure it can be crossed with something as easy as a phone call or a plane ride.
Yet I’m willing to try.
He doesn’t know this yet, but this time I’m the one with the power. And maybe – just maybe – if the air were cleared and all our secrets bared, there could still be a chance for us.
And this dirty, filthy thing between us might end up being love after all.
Cocktails and Books received this book for free from Provided by Author in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect our opinion of the book or the content of our review.
Given what Donovan and Sabrina went through with book 1, I wasn’t sure what to expect going into book 2. This couple still had all sorts of actions that made me shake my head, but by the end, I realized they were perfect for each other.
DIRTY FILTHY RICH LOVE picks up right where book one left off. Donovan has gone to France and Sabrina is left to figure out if there is anything left of their relationship. She soon discovers one phone call from her forces Donovan to rethink his decisions and to go after what he wants.
These two are a hot mess, but they finally get all their issues out onto the table. Once they’re there, they had to make the decision to deal with everything and start over or walk away. I can honestly say there were times where I felt like Donovan should walk away because it felt like Sabrina kept holding the past against him. But when Sabrina really needed Donovan he was there for her and it was hard to deny these two shouldn’t be together.
There were still things about this couple that still had me scratching my head. Why someone who went through something traumatic would want to re-enact that trauma during sex was lost on me, but by the time that came about again in this book I understood why they were doing it (even if it bothered me).
A solid read, but this one didn’t leave me quite so emotional as the first book. I think by now the shock value had worn off and I was waiting for something else to shock me. Still, for those who love Laurelin Paige book, this is a definite book to pick up.
Dirty Filthy Rich Love by Laurelin Paige
Release Date: September 11th
Amazon International: myBook.to/DFRL
Start the Duet TODAY:
Dirty Filthy Rich Men (book 1):
“But I haven’t lied to you, Sabrina.” His gaze never left mine. “And I’m not lying when I say I don’t give a fuck about anybody else’s cunt but yours.”
We stood there, not touching, not speaking, each of us standing our ground. But I had no basis to keep my position, and it felt like he’d won so much already.
I couldn’t back down.
“Prove it,” I said.
His expression flared, his eyes growing dark and mean, and I realized what I’d done. Donovan wasn’t one to be provoked.
I’d just invited the devil out to play.
“Unzip your skirt and put your hands on the counter behind you.”
My heart hammered and my belly twisted. My panties were embarrassingly drenched all of a sudden, and I wanted him. But I stood completely still. “I didn’t—”
He cut me off. “No talking and unzip your skirt.”
My mouth slammed shut, but I still didn’t move. If I moved, I’d be asking for this. But if I talked, I’d be telling him to stop.
And I didn’t want this to stop.
I just didn’t want to ask for it because I was stubborn and stupid for wanting him in the first place.
But he would give it to me without the words, without my obedience. Because he knew me. He knew what I needed.
With his eyes never leaving mine, he found the zipper at the side of my waist and pulled it down. After that, the skirt was loose enough that all he had to do was tug it once and it fell easily to my feet. He nudged his knee against my inner leg, and automatically I stepped that foot out of the pool of material on the floor, widening my stance.
He gave a nod of praise, sending a jolt of warmth through my entire body.
Then he bent down in front of me.
Suddenly, breathing was harder than it should have been. My chest moved up and down, air passed through my mouth, but I couldn’t get enough of it to my lungs.
And he hadn’t even touched me yet.
The sight of him alone—Donovan Kincaid, one of the most powerful men in the world, down on his knees in his black Ermenegildo Zegna suit—it was overwhelming and erotic, and by the time he put his hand at the back of my knee, I was already trembling.
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