Sunday, January 15, 2017

Book Blitz & Giveaway - Trillionaire Boys' Club: The Producer by Aubrey Parker

Book & Author Details:
Trillionaire Boys’ Club: The Producer 
by Aubrey Parker 
Publication date: January 10th 2017 
Genres: New Adult, Romance

These hot, powerful men don’t impress me.
I’m not new to this secret club of billionaires. I know all about their Syndicate … and even some of their plans to control the world. I’m Alyssa Friggin’ Galloway, publicity genius, and I’ve dealt with all of them: Nathan Turner, who built the Boys’ Club, and even the insufferable Ashton Moran.
They’re all the same: all arrogance and bluster, using women like disposable things. I’m immune to their charms.
So why does the worst of the worst … Cole Freaking Ellison … intrigue me so much?
To stay afloat with all these MEN, I need to be tough. So I hold my ground. But Cole? He sees right through me to the vulnerable thing beneath.
Cole wants to control me. He wants to use me for his own pleasure.
And against all judgment, I want to let him.
The Producer is part of the Trillionaire Boys’ Club series by Aubrey Parker. Each book tells the story of one of the Club’s powerful members … and you’re going to want to collect them all.



I fuck Alyssa on the rug.
I fuck Alyssa on the terrace.
I fuck Alyssa in each of the bedrooms, and the second time she gets down on her knees when I tell her and takes my cock as it slips out of her pussy, jerks it off, and makes me come in her mouth.
I fuck her with my fingers.
I fuck her with my tongue, with my hungry lips.
I fuck her riding, standing, sitting, forward, backward, in every offered hole.
She begs. I give. I come so many times I’m entirely dry.
We rest.
We rehydrate.
We do it again.
I fuck Alyssa on the grand piano. I don’t play piano, but it’s there for show. We discover the weight limit of the propped-open lid, so I move her to the keys, and fuck her while her ass plays an obscene form of chopsticks.
I fuck Alyssa against my apartment’s tall glass walls, both facing in and facing out. Part of me hopes a paparazzo has climbed up into one of the other buildings and will take our picture, because the moment’s ecstasy makes me want to share it with the world.
Partly it’s pride. Nobody thinks Alyssa is what she is. This perfect woman, both strong and supple, both bold and submissive. She challenges me, but does as I say when it needs doing. She won’t do my laundry or bake me a cake, but she’ll hop up on the counter with her legs spread and coat her ass in flour if I say so.
I’ve made her come in every room of my house. I can’t get enough of her. I’m always thirsty for her, no matter how much I drink. She is my constant arousal. I want her so much, it’s almost painful.
When it’s gone on long enough, we call mercy. We sleep a little, and in the morning I finger her awake. She says she’s sore. I tell her to deal with it, and we do a workout like I’ve never done.
“Alyssa,” I say. “It’s seven o’clock.”
And just like that, I see something shift in her eyes. She’s still the thing that drives me to distraction, but now she’s something else. It’s like a switch has been flipped. She stops being Alyssa the Toy and becomes Alyssa the Powerful. I don’t give her any more commands. If I do so now, she’ll bite me in half.
Two women share my bed. The one I fuck, and the one who, if I do something stupid to impose on her business, will fuck me up.
She heads to work. She has no clothes. Fortunately I do, so she gets showered and dressed and with the additional time between us goes through my ladies’ wardrobe and suggests I get rid of everything that’s not her size or liking. It isn’t a command. She doesn’t get to tell me what to do, just like I don’t get to tell her what to do when lust presses Pause.
But there’s that understanding between us. Its black-and-white nature fits us both perfectly. There are rules for this thing we’re doing, and violating them will bring its end.
She won’t force my hand in the ways Rachel did, so it’s okay that I’m different around her. It won’t be like with Rachel, even though Alyssa — in manner and ambition, though not in appearance — is somewhat like her.
Where things went wrong before, they won’t go wrong now. Because we have our rules.
When we’re together, I’m in charge. That’s how Alyssa wants it, so she can turn the world off and follow instead of having to constantly lead.
When we’re not together, we answer only to ourselves, with zero interference.
While under my command, Alyssa will do as I say.
And in return, I’ll take care of her. Tell her when playtime is over — when it’s 7am and time to get ready for work. I won’t let her miss appointments she allows herself to forget during our bliss. In a way, I’m like her domineering secretary. I keep her calendar. I’m her reminder — allowed to have my every way, but in exchange she’s allowed to lose herself completely.
She’ll fall into my arms.
And I will always be there to catch her.

I love to write stories with characters that feel real enough to friend on Facebook, or slap across the face. I write to make you feel, think, and burn with the thrill that can only come from getting lost in the pages. I love to write unforgettable characters who wrestle with life's largest problems. My books may always end with a Happily Ever After, but there will always be drama on the way there.

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