Misconduct
Author: Penelope Douglas
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: December 1, 2015
From the New York Times bestselling author of the Fall Away series who never fails to deliver a “powerfully written contemporary love story…”*
Former tennis player Easton Bradbury is trying to be the best teacher she can be, trying to reach her bored students, trying to forget her past. What brought her to this stage in her life isn’t important. She can’t let it be. But now one parent-teacher meeting may be her undoing…
Meeting Tyler Marek for the first time makes it easy for Easton to see why his son is having trouble in school. The man knows how to manage businesses and wealth, not a living, breathing teenage boy. Or a young teacher, for that matter, though he tries to. And yet…there is something about him that draws Easton in—a hint of vulnerability, a flash of attraction, a spark that might burn.
Wanting him is taboo. Needing him is undeniable. And his long-awaited touch will weaken Easton’s resolve—and reveal what should stay hidden…
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“Why you?” he questioned. “Why have I been thinking of you ever since that Mardi Gras ball?”He pressed his body to mine, and I shook my head slowly.
“Mr. Marek,” I pleaded, but it was useless. My eyes fell to his mouth, and then I glanced to my closed door, knowing that even though the students were gone for the day, there might still be staff around. “Please.”
“There was something that drew us together that night,” he maintained. “Something that got under my skin, something that’s still there.”
His mouth was an inch from mine, and I breathed hard, needing to push him away, but at the same time, that was the last thing I wanted.
“Easton,” he whispered, and reached down behind my thigh, lifting it to press himself closer against me.
I groaned, feeling the ridge of his cock nestle between my legs.
“We can’t do this,” I told him.
My clothes felt like sandpaper on my skin, and I wanted them off. I wanted his shirt open and to know what he felt like under my fingertips.
“I know,” he answered.
But while his left hand held my knee up, his right hand slid between my legs and rubbed my clit through my panties.
I sucked in a sharp breath and clutched his shoulders, letting my eyes fall closed as my head floated away from me.
“Mr. Marek,” I begged.
But his breath fell against my mouth, and he whispered, “I told you there would be no stopping me when we finally ran into each other again.”
And before I could open my eyes, he’d captured my bottom lip between his teeth and then kissed me, sending me reeling until I didn’t know which way was up.
I couldn’t fight it. His tongue dove into my mouth as he pressed me against the whiteboard and kissed me hard. I circled my arms around his neck, knowing I was getting myself into a shit ton of trouble, but I didn’t care at the moment.
My body needed him. That’s all it was.
I wouldn’t get involved emotionally—I never did.
He grabbed me underneath both thighs and swung me around, planting my ass on the desk.
I groaned, his mouth working strong and fast over mine, stealing my breath as pleasure swarmed in my chest. It spiraled downward like a cyclone low in my belly.
I tightened my legs around his waist as his fingers slid under my dress, raking down my thighs.
I grabbed the back of his neck, cocking my head and returning every inch of his kiss. He tasted like coffee with vanilla, and I felt a hint of stubble on his face under my fingertips.
Dropping my hands down his body, I started unbuttoning his black vest. It was too thick, and I couldn’t feel him.
I pulled my mouth back, then dove back in to flick his tongue with mine.
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, eating me up with quick kisses and nibbles. “Why does it have to be you, huh?”
I fumbled with the last button and finally tore open the vest, running my hands up his stomach and chest, covered only by his fine white dress shirt.
But even through the shirt, I felt the dips of his abs and pecs and of his toned waist and back.
Something screeched to my right, and I twisted my head to see the flailing branches of the tree outside scraping against the windowpane. The leaves blew, and I knew the storm would be here soon.
But I turned back to him, both of us breathing heavily, and I loved the storm in Tyler Marek’s eyes even more.
He slid his hands inside my panties and leaned his forehead into mine. I whimpered and grasped the back of his neck with both hands, my pussy throbbing at the thick ridge of his cock pressing against my leg.
He leaned down, his teeth nipping at my jaw as my eyes fluttered closed.
“Tyler.” I let my head fall back, craning my neck for his lips. “Mr. Marek, please stop,” I begged.
His hot breath fell across my ear, and I shivered.
“I thought about you all weekend,” he whispered. “How do you make me do that?”
I snatched up his lips again. I liked what he was telling me too much.
He grabbed the hair at the back of my head and pulled, exposing my neck again as he dived down and whispered against my skin, “When you walked in, dressed in that short little skirt, my fucking hands wanted these thighs”—he raked his fingers down my legs again—“almost as much as my mouth did,” he admitted.
I squeezed my eyes shut, the need becoming agony. “Mr. Marek,” I quaked. “Oh, God.”
I didn’t want to stop him, but . . .
I bit my bottom lip, feeling his fingers slide up and down my pussy, dipping and bringing out the wetness, spreading it over my clit.
And then whimpered, feeling two long fingers plunge inside of me.
“Shit,” I moaned, squirming against his fingers. “Please stop,” I pleaded. “Tyler, please.”
But he just added another finger, staring down and watching the pleasure of what he was doing spread across my face.
“Say it again,” he ordered.
I blinked, opening my eyes, even though his thumb rubbing circles on my clit was driving me wild.
“Tyler,” I said gently. “Please stop.”
His mouth curled into a smile, and he stole a kiss, nipping at my bottom lip. “You don’t want me to, do you?” he breathed out.
He increased his speed, flicking my clit faster and harder and curling the fingers inside of me, making me suck in air quicker and quicker and making me so needy I damn near gave in and begged to ride his cock.
“Tyler, oh, my God,” I cried, squeezing my eyes shut again and feeling my insides swirl and tighten.
“On second thought, call me Mr. Marek,” he insisted, and I popped my eyes open, seeing the devil in his grin.
I bit my lips between my teeth, groaning as I leaned back on my hands and slid my ass back and forth, fucking his fingers.
“Yes, Mr. Marek,” I breathed out, dropping my head back as the whole fucking world started to spin.
One of my heels dropped to the floor, but I couldn’t care less.
He continued staring down at me, looking like he was completely captivated with my face.
“You going to be nice from now on?” he challenged in a hard voice, rubbing harder.
“Yes, Mr. Marek,” I rushed out.
“You going to keep your temper in check?” His long fingers filled me up again and again.
I nodded frantically, feeling the orgasm coming. “Yes, Mr. Marek.”
“And I’m not done with you yet,” he warned. “Just so you know.”
I breathed in and out quickly, my body tensing and shaking. “Yes,” I cried out.
And then the orgasm exploded, spreading down my thighs and through my belly. I dropped my head all the way back, plastering my hand to my mouth to stifle the cry as I squeezed my eyes shut and let him rub my clit, bringing the orgasm to an end.
My legs, suddenly as shaky as Jell-O, released their grip on his waist and dangled off the side of the desk.
He kissed me, holding my lips for a few moments, and for a just a few moments I felt like I did on Sunday mornings. When I woke up and realized I could stay in bed.
Content.
Dark spaces, quiet places,” he whispered over my mouth. “That’s all we need, Easton.”
You know what I love about Penelope Douglas’s writing? Well, aside from the obvious everything. It’s her consistency. She never fails to deliver an absolutely enrapturing read with a strong heroine and an absolutely to die for hero. Her writing is magnetic, her romances are scorching, and her characters unforgettable. Misconduct is proof that not only can she write amazing New Adult Like Bully, or scorching hot dark erotica like Corrupt, but she’ll bring her A game to contemporary romance. And bring her a game she did, because I loved absolutely everything about this book.
I knew that look in his eyes. I may not know much about him, but I knew that look. And we were in my classroom. His son’s classroom. I may have had little shame, but he had none.
The one thing I’ve come to truly love about Penelope’s writing, is her ability to write a devastatingly intense hero. Because let me just tell you, the first time Tyler Marek makes an appearance on a page, not an ovary within a 100 mile radius will be safe. He captures your attention immediately, and he keeps it completely. The man is absolute sex on a stick. Easton Bradbury made a name for herself in professional tennis, only to leave everything behind to start fresh in New Orleans. Landing the coveted teaching position at one of the prestigious private schools is her first step. Letting go of the dark memories that caused her to run in the first place is an indefinite second, and she’s in no hurry. While only 23 years old, this is no immature and naive female. Hell no. Like most heroines Penelope writes, Easton isn’t without spark or backbone. This is a woman that isn’t ashamed to speak her mind. She’s educated, she’s ballsy, and yet behind the tough exterior is someone that is very much broken. But she won’t let that slow her down. With her charismatic teaching style, she captures her students’ attention immediately, only to come to a head with a parent that doesn’t quite enjoy her unorthodox methods… Tyler Marek is twelve years her senior, the father of her student, and seems to enjoy demeaning and laughing at her at every turn. But beneath their snarks and heated insults runs an undercurrent of lust so strong, it basically ignites the pages. Holy wow but do these two have chemistry from the very beginning and it only burns hotter and hotter! Now if you follow my reviews you already know just how much I love a good hate-to-love trope, and Misconduct delivered that in spades. It was absolutely delicious. You really get that burn here, until you think you’ll actually combust if these two don’t get together. I’m talking about the mother of sexual tension here, people! I’m not even kidding. I didn’t know whether to ice my ovaries or keep a fire extinguisher on hand for chance that my kindle may catch fire. Good god! As much as I loved Tyler, I loved Easton just as much. I love a strong heroine that can give as good as she gets, and boy does Easton give it good. This is a woman that doesn’t take anything lying down…well…ok…actually there’s one particular thing that she does take lying down, but that’s neither here nor there. My point here is that both Easton and Tyler were incredibly dynamic characters. And together? Holy smokes! It just didn’t get better than that. Penelope Douglas is the queen of hate lust and sexual tension. The woman truly knows how to make her readers squirm and I love her for it. Misconduct was deliciously taboo and utterly unputdownable. The whole ‘will they get caught’ thing just added to the mix to make an already captivating romance that much better. t. Everything about it worked for me. If you haven’t read a book by this author yet, I can’t recommend a better one to start with than Misconduct. Trust me on this. If you’re a fan of enigmatic heroines, sharp-witted and strong heroines, and a hate lust so scorching hot it may set your kindle on fire, this is one book you need to read. Period. Penelope Douglas is the author of the New York Times bestselling Fall Away series. She has her Masters of Science in Education from Loyola University in New Orleans and she currently lives in Las Vegas with her family.
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