Playboy by Katy Evans
Publication Date: July 29, 2018
Genre: Contemporary Romance
A brand new contemporary romance from New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author Katy Evans.
It started as a game.
We flirted. We played. Most importantly—we won.
Then I discovered who he was: Gambler. Famous playboy. Silver-eyed player who never plays to lose…
And my best friend’s soon-to-be brother in law, Cullen Carmichael.
He needed a good luck charm, I needed a distraction.
So we made a gamble and set off for Vegas—but pretty soon—I was in too deep.
My heart, soul, and body weren’t supposed to be part of the deal.
But somewhere between big wins and long nights, my house of cards started to tumble.
What was this devil with those piercing eyes doing to me?
I’d given up on love, but the wicked, all-in Cullen Carmichael was upping the ante and wouldn’t stop until he’d won it all.
They say love is a gamble, but these two take the stakes to a whole new level.
Cullen and Wynn take off at 100% from page one. Their connection was undeniable. While they stayed guarded, hints of their desire shined through. No stake was too high for these two. Their connection was beyond anything they expected and everything they didn’t know they wanted.
Even though the story was low angst and predictable at times, the characters kept me entertained. Over all the Manwhore Series was a win for me. Playboy was a great addition and it was fun to see all the characters interact together once again. A quick read that will let you escape for a couple of hours.
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“So you just kissed me because you wanted to.” I speak on a breath.
“Very good. You’re perceptive. Intuitive.”
I realize he’s teasing me in that low, terribly rumbly voice and I wish he would smile at me.
He takes my hand and fingers my palm with his thumb as he leads me to our suite.
I’m sizzling where he touches me, nervously prying my hand free when he leads me into the biggest, most spectacular two-bedroom penthouse suite I’ve ever seen. Not that I’d seen one before in person, only movies.
There’s a kitchen area, and windows from floor to ceiling. A living room, a pool table, gold brass chandeliers, a brown-and-beige-patterned carpet, dark woods, Italian leathers. Gorgeous! I could move in here.
Now I see the appeal but won’t admit as much.
Thinking of our bet, I pay attention to the art on the walls. It’s expensive. I can tell by the numbered print and the signature. Painters with indecipherable and artistic signatures are often the artists to watch. It’s like they know from the moment they paint their first work that they’re on to something big, something that will distinguish their work from all others.
I wish Cullen loved art as much as I do. Maybe I could drag him away from the tables to a local gallery.
“Wow. I could just live he—” I spin around and bump into his big warm body, and he bends his head and kisses my words right out of me.
Kisses me stupid. Kisses my toes curled. Kisses my brain blank. Kisses my heart crazy.