Forbidden Valentine:A Forbidden Novel
Forbidden Valentine:A Forbidden Novel
J.C Valentine
ONE
A BLONDE, A BRUNETTE, and a redhead walked into a bar.
Oh, there was no punchline. Ransom was just a very observant man, and the three women were now steadily approaching him with a distinctive sway to their narrow hips. Christ, but he wasn't in the mood for entertaining. Ever since his brother had run off and impregnated then married the woman that he loved, following a very tumultuously confusing affair that left him the odd man out with a broken heart and shattered ego, he'd been a moody bastard.
That was putting it mildly.
Ransom had been an impossible person to get along with, his sullenness and quick temper earning him a lot of well-deserved hostility from friends and co-workers. The only people he hadn't run off yet was his family, but that was because they were a stubborn bunch-almost worse than him. Hell, they could try a saint's patience for all the times they'd attempted to play shrink.
And he was no saint.
Far from it. In fact, if the thoughts running through his head about the blonde in the way-too-fucking-short-to-wear-in-public dress were any indication, one sick bastard could be added to his prestigious, self-imposed title. At the rate he was going, he could win Bastard of the Year without so much as blinking an eye.
The trio sidled up beside him and the blonde closest to him leaned over the bar top, flashing everyone and God her matching fuchsia G-string, and Ransom couldn't prevent himself from sneaking a peek.
Nice ass. High, round, and firm. Slappable. He wouldn't mind putting his hands on that.
As if she could feel him staring, the blonde turned to look over her shoulder, her pretty loose curls skating across her back to graze her hips.
Ugh. Way too much makeup.
Ransom never had much of a preference until Josephine entered his life. She was something else. A natural beauty. Sensational in every light. She didn't need the help of cosmetics to make her beautiful. She just was. She was the total package: smart, talented, beautiful, loving, sexy.
And she wasn't his.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Ransom slugged the last of his whiskey neat and slammed the glass on the counter.
The bartender-some young college looking type-stepped up and refilled it, his attention fully fixed on the women beside him.
As soon as he'd finished taking their orders, Ransom felt the heat of the blonde's eyes on him again. He wanted to tell her to take a hike. Find some other chump to buy her drinks. Find another fucking loser to take her to bed, but then he remembered that he'd been sitting in the same spot for … Well, he'd lost track of how many hours he'd been there. Enough to know he'd be calling a cab home. So she was probably just sizing him up because he reeked of booze and bad decisions.
Glancing up at her, he caught her fresh blue eyes staring and mustered up enough energy to grunt a hello.
A small, flattering smile tilted her paper thin lips and she angled herself toward him. "You look like you could use a friend."
Breaking eye contact, Ransom picked up his glass and brought it to his lips. "Never had much use for one actually." Then he downed the whole damn thing in one swallow. It didn't even burn anymore.
"Hard day at work?"
More like a hard several months at life, but who was complaining? Ransom shook his head, annoyed that she wouldn't just leave him alone. He wasn't in the mood. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. He was about to tell her to fuck off when he gave her another once-over.
She wasn't exactly pretty-mouth too small, nose too piggish, chin too sharp-but she had nice eyes, a good figure, and a sweet ass.
His dick twitched and his mood shifted. Swaying on his stool, Ransom cocked a half-smile, the one he imagined his brother, Rebel, used to win Joe over. Instantly, interest sparked in her eyes and Ransom knew, all he'd have to do is ask and he would have her in his bed.
"You wanna get out of-"
"Finally!"
The redhead's excited yell startled him, cutting off his request, and Ransom turned to see two freakishly tall, broad-shouldered guys headed their way. The redhead bolted from her chair and, with a squeal, the blonde followed. He watched the guys' arms spread open and the women leap into them, all high-pitched wails of delight. Romance at its finest.
J.C Valentine
ONE
A BLONDE, A BRUNETTE, and a redhead walked into a bar.
Oh, there was no punchline. Ransom was just a very observant man, and the three women were now steadily approaching him with a distinctive sway to their narrow hips. Christ, but he wasn't in the mood for entertaining. Ever since his brother had run off and impregnated then married the woman that he loved, following a very tumultuously confusing affair that left him the odd man out with a broken heart and shattered ego, he'd been a moody bastard.
That was putting it mildly.
Ransom had been an impossible person to get along with, his sullenness and quick temper earning him a lot of well-deserved hostility from friends and co-workers. The only people he hadn't run off yet was his family, but that was because they were a stubborn bunch-almost worse than him. Hell, they could try a saint's patience for all the times they'd attempted to play shrink.
And he was no saint.
Far from it. In fact, if the thoughts running through his head about the blonde in the way-too-fucking-short-to-wear-in-public dress were any indication, one sick bastard could be added to his prestigious, self-imposed title. At the rate he was going, he could win Bastard of the Year without so much as blinking an eye.
The trio sidled up beside him and the blonde closest to him leaned over the bar top, flashing everyone and God her matching fuchsia G-string, and Ransom couldn't prevent himself from sneaking a peek.
Nice ass. High, round, and firm. Slappable. He wouldn't mind putting his hands on that.
As if she could feel him staring, the blonde turned to look over her shoulder, her pretty loose curls skating across her back to graze her hips.
Ugh. Way too much makeup.
Ransom never had much of a preference until Josephine entered his life. She was something else. A natural beauty. Sensational in every light. She didn't need the help of cosmetics to make her beautiful. She just was. She was the total package: smart, talented, beautiful, loving, sexy.
And she wasn't his.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Ransom slugged the last of his whiskey neat and slammed the glass on the counter.
The bartender-some young college looking type-stepped up and refilled it, his attention fully fixed on the women beside him.
As soon as he'd finished taking their orders, Ransom felt the heat of the blonde's eyes on him again. He wanted to tell her to take a hike. Find some other chump to buy her drinks. Find another fucking loser to take her to bed, but then he remembered that he'd been sitting in the same spot for … Well, he'd lost track of how many hours he'd been there. Enough to know he'd be calling a cab home. So she was probably just sizing him up because he reeked of booze and bad decisions.
Glancing up at her, he caught her fresh blue eyes staring and mustered up enough energy to grunt a hello.
A small, flattering smile tilted her paper thin lips and she angled herself toward him. "You look like you could use a friend."
Breaking eye contact, Ransom picked up his glass and brought it to his lips. "Never had much use for one actually." Then he downed the whole damn thing in one swallow. It didn't even burn anymore.
"Hard day at work?"
More like a hard several months at life, but who was complaining? Ransom shook his head, annoyed that she wouldn't just leave him alone. He wasn't in the mood. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. He was about to tell her to fuck off when he gave her another once-over.
She wasn't exactly pretty-mouth too small, nose too piggish, chin too sharp-but she had nice eyes, a good figure, and a sweet ass.
His dick twitched and his mood shifted. Swaying on his stool, Ransom cocked a half-smile, the one he imagined his brother, Rebel, used to win Joe over. Instantly, interest sparked in her eyes and Ransom knew, all he'd have to do is ask and he would have her in his bed.
"You wanna get out of-"
"Finally!"
The redhead's excited yell startled him, cutting off his request, and Ransom turned to see two freakishly tall, broad-shouldered guys headed their way. The redhead bolted from her chair and, with a squeal, the blonde followed. He watched the guys' arms spread open and the women leap into them, all high-pitched wails of delight. Romance at its finest.
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