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My Billionaire Trilogy by M.J. Bradley
Requirements: ePUB/MOBI/AZW3 Reader, 586kb
Overview: M.J. Bradley is author of some of the popular titles in erotic romance My Billionaire Series. She instantly got a popular name in erotic writing after this series.
Genre: Fiction, Erotic Romance


Book 1
He was tall with long, black hair. He wore a suit, and he wore it well – it was tight-fitting and hugged his lithe body. He was talking heatedly with another man in a suit near a door marked “employees only.” As Molly watched he laughed and patted the other man on the shoulder, and then turned and made to walk away – but then he caught her eye. She suppressed a squeal – she didn’t know why, but she would have squealed if she hadn’t made the conscious effort to stop it – and looked away.

She felt more than heard his presence behind her, and her whole body froze. She felt like a shadow had just descended on the entire aisle. Who was this man and why was he standing behind her? She suppressed the urge to turn around. She didn’t know why but the idea of turning around was terrifying to her. Well, she did know why – he was incredibly attractive and he was close to her. She wasn’t very good with attractive men. She wasn’t very good with men in general. Finally she heard him – heavy breathing, in and out, slow, rugged breaths.

Book 2
Jason watched in confusion and horror as Molly walked away with the mysterious man – the man who had come out nowhere and then talked to her for a couple of moments and then made her disappear. Who the hell was he, and why the hell was Molly going away with him? That was what Jason kept wondering, over and over again. The man had seemed good-looking and tall, with a suit and the facial hair that girls seemed to like, but he was far too old for her.

He sped up now and tried to catch her eye – she was facing the other way, already disappearing into the car park. She got into a car with tinted windows and sped off. Jason ran forward, towards the car, stretching his arms out as if he could stop it – then the car sped off down the road with a screech and was gone. Jason sighed and rubbed at his forehead. He looked to the side. A bird watched from a tree, its eyes intently focused on the scene as if savoring Jason’s pain. He picked up a stone and threw it at it and it flew away.

Book 3
Jason sat in his chair and looked out the window – and watched as bright yellow sun streamed in, dusty and somehow alluring. He had opened the window a few hours ago. He hadn’t wanted to, but he’d felt like he had to. He hadn’t left his room in a week – except to eat and use the toilet – and he was starting to feel like some kind of sub-human, something out of a horror film. Was he a creep? When he had first thought it he’d found the notion ludicrous. How could he be a creep? He was in love, and, what was more important, his beloved loved him back. No – there was nothing creepy about love. It was pure, special – it was worth more than anything on the planet. That was what he told himself, anyway.

Then he looked at his wall. There were hundreds of pictures on it, overlapping each other and curling at the corners and falling to the floor. At first, when he’d been adding to it constantly, he’d thought it was sweet – he’d imagined showing Molly, and smiled as he imagined her face lighting up. “This is gorgeous,” she would say, and then she would kiss him. Now, though, he wasn’t so sure – was it sweet, or was it odd? Perhaps it was the ritual of it he had liked, finding the picture and printing it out and sticking it to the wall – now it was done, and he had found every picture he was likely to find, he didn’t know how he felt about it. It was undoubtedly lovely to look at – it had to be, because it was Molly – but that was all. It didn’t fill him with the same awe it once had.

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