BAD BOY ROMANCE: FAKE FIANCEE ROMANCE: Breaking Bad (Jealous Friend Alpha Male Temporary Counterfeit Romance Secret Love Thriller) (My Fake Fiancé Obsession Romance Bad Boy Love Collection Romance) by Dagny Rand Read Free Book Online

authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    A Bad Boys fake Fiancée
     
     
     
    A hardcore football romance novel
     
     
     
     
    By: Dagny Rand
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
    A Bad Boy Fake Fiancée
    Jack stretched as he reached for the towel after his shower. The steam swirled around the bathroom, and he swiped his hand across the foggy mirror and tied the towel around his waist. The image before him was the one that he saw every morning as he gave himself a once over. Tall and lean, check. Shoulder length dark hair, currently stick to the back of his neck from the shower, check. Muscles, honed by football practices, daily workouts, eating habits and being the equivalent of a walking Mack truck on the field, check. Bright almost sky blue eyes, double check.
    “Jack?” a female voice said from the next room. Jack paused in the mirror. Oh holy hell, what was her name? He had not even the slightest idea and that wasn’t going to go over well at all.
    “I’m in the bathroom, babe. I just got out of the shower,” he said. Maybe it would be okay if he just avoided calling her anything concrete. Otherwise, she was what’s-her-name. Most girls didn’t like that. He needed to start making them wear name tags or something. It wasn’t like he had to keep it up for long anyway, he had to be at practice soon. That was why he’d slipped out of bed and gotten into the shower already.
    “Are you leaving?” she cooed as she came into the room and slipped her arms around his waist.
    “No, hon. But you are. I have to be at practice in an hour and I need to get ready,” he said. What’s-her-name froze.
    “What? I have to go already?” she said.
    “Yeah, I’ll give you cab fare to get home. There’s no point in you showering here anyway, you don’t have clean clothes,” he said to her through the mirror reflection.
    “Well hell, you just brought me here to screw and put me out?” she said. Jack sighed and turned to face her. He hated it when women got the wrong idea.
    “Honey, you met me literally thirty minutes before you left the club with me. You don’t know anything about me other than what you’ve heard from the media, and you introduced yourself by rubbing your hand against my crotch. Exactly what kind of deep and profound relationship did you expect this to lead to?” he asked. The woman took a step back, clearly outraged, reared back and smacked the hell out of him. Or as much hell as she could manage. Then she turned and stormed through the bedroom, out into the living room, got dressed and grabbed her clothes and slammed the door as she stormed out. Jack sighed and shrugged. Seriously, what had she been thinking?
    He didn’t really have time to think about it right then, it was time for him to get dressed. Jack had a few reputations, one as a womanizer and a bit of a bad boy who partied nightly, the other was as a bit of a fashion plate. That meant that if he stepped out of the front door of his house, he was always dressed perfectly, whether it was jeans or slacks. It was one of the burdens and perks of being Jack Carson.
    Jack walked out of the house in sun shades, since it was pretty sunny outside, and climbed into his Land Rover Evoque and the only baby girl that he was really worried about in this world, and pulled out of his driveway.
    An hour later, after being given a once over and sent to the gym for a pre-practice work out, Jack looked up into the head coach, Ben Fontaine’s frowning face. That wasn’t really out of the ordinary, Jack was pretty sure that the man never got laid and was just back the hell up. What concerned him was the team’s PR head, Yasmine Peterson, and the General Manager, Kevin Bates, walking in behind him, all three of them with their eyes locked on him. He racked his brain trying to think if he’d screwed anything up recently,