Roar (Military Bad Boy Billionaire Romance) (Soldiers of Fortune Book 4) Read online

  I don’t give a f*ck if I die tomorrow, as long as I get her tonight.

  Bryce

  I’ve been to war. I’ve lived in the streets. I’ve beaten the needle, and I’ve looked death in the face and laughed.

  So what the f*ck do I want with a sassy, smart-mouthed spitfire like Peyton Rivers?

  There are a thousand reasons I should stay away, beyond the fact that she’s my best friend’s sister. She’s just as broken as me. She’s seen the face of the devil and taken the time to spit in it, and she’s got scars like mine to prove it.

  Oh, and we’ve been down that road before, and it ended in blood and rain.

  But like I said, I’m a fighter. You gotta fight for what you want. And Peyton -- the sassy, hard-knocks girl from my past with a body made for sin -- is gonna be mine.

  The sins of the past never quite stay where you put them, do they?

  Peyton

  I worked hard to get to where I am. Stable, healed, and somewhat normal -- with a family to call my own.

  I shut the door on Bryce Connors a long time ago. What we had was wrong then and the ghost of that memory is worse now.

  It’s just that there are people who tie us together, blood bonds that can’t be broken. But when our family is shattered, our friend stolen from us, the two of us are thrown together all over again until we get him back.

  Great; high stakes, high tensions, and halfway across the world with the one man I can’t seem to resist, even when everything about him makes my heart scream NO.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  ...Or right?

  Author’s Copyright

  Copyright © 2015 Aubrey Irons

  Cover Photos: SergioPhoto

  UVAConcept

  Artefy

  M.J. H1nkle

  Vector835

  Cover Design: Aubrey Irons

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.

  This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please do not continue reading this book of you are under the age of 18 or are offended by content of this nature.

  All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older and all acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual.

  Dedication:

  To the readers, for doing what you do so well. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

  To my husband, for being wonderful.

  And to Ben Howard and Noah Gundersen; you will probably never read this, but thank you both for being the soundtracks to my drafts.

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

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  Author’s Note:

  All books in the Soldiers of Fortune series are standalone, HEA titles. That said, your enjoyment of this story may be even more enriched by reading them in the order shown above.

  Click the book covers above, or the links below to read now!

  Heat

  Burn

  Scorch

  Roar

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  An Excerpt:

  "I can not believe you!" We've marched back to the room in silence; past the glimmering candles of the light festival and through the shadows dancing on the old stonework walls of the city. But once we're back in the hotel room, I whirl on Bryce.

  "Excuse me?" He growls, slamming the door shut as he loosens the tie at his neck.

  "You're going to ruin the one chance we've got of getting Logan back, because your fucking ego won't let you just let me do what I have to do!"

  "What?!" He explodes; "You think I was going to sit back and just watch that happen?!" He tears his tie off his neck and whips it across the room, his eye steely fire as he glares at me; "Jesus fucking Christ, Peyton, you were shaking back there. You were losing it yourself."

  "I was perfectly in control!" I lie, hoping the anger in my voice covers how unconvincing I know I sound.

  I whirl and start to storm away, but he grabs my hand, pulling me back and spinning me into him. I gasp as I come crashing into his chest, my hands against him as I look up to see the dark storms of his eyes boring into mine; “I couldn’t watch him just fucking touch you like that,” He growls. I can feel the heat throbbing between us, thick with the unspoken and the words held back; “I couldn’t watch him or any other man in the world put their fucking hands on you.”

  “You don’t own me,” I say lowly, yanking my hand away from him storming off towards the bathroom door.

  “Yeah? Who’re you trying to convince, sweetheart?” He throws after me.

  I slam the door and lean against it, feeling my face burn and my pulse race; damn this man. Damn the way he gets ahold of me like that, damn him for getting under my skin and into my thoughts, and damn him for knowing exactly what to say to me at every turn.

  The steam rises quickly from the tap as I crank the hot water up, shedding my clothes as storm-clouds brew across my face. There’s just too much going on right now, too many ups and down and spikes of adrenaline for one night. And truth be told, I need to shower after that debacle with Anderson. I shiver again, thinking of his hand on mine, his thuggish, leering looks stripping away my clothes right there at the table.

  But then, as I step under the cleansing hot spray of the water, I think of Bryce. Bryce stepping in to stop it, Bryce taking me away from it all. I don’t need saving. I’m not some fucking damsel in a tower that needs a knight to come swooping in while I faint delicately in the background. But what I need, and what I’ve always needed, is just someone to show they care. Someone to step up to the darkness and face it right there with me, if only just to say “you’re not alone.”

  And that’s what he is.

  He’s not my savior, he’s my strength. He’s the match that lights the kindling beneath me.
For better or for worse, and no matter how much I want it not to be true after what happened a year ago, that’s the role he plays.

  And damn him for that.

  My mind betrays me as I lean against the shower wall, letting the scalding hot water draw the tension from my skin. I start to think of other things that Bryce Connors does to me. The way his eyes pierce into mine, seeing right into me like no one else ever has, or the way his hands feel sliding over my skin, as if memorizing every curve and every flaw.

  And I think of the way his lips feel on mine; the way he kisses me with a searing need and a blazing passion that has me falling apart inside.

  My body betrays me then too, and my wayward thoughts of the man I swore to forget but just can’t turn deeper; darker. I think of the ways our bodies fit together, the way his skin feels on mine, the way he gets me trembling and begging for him; the way he makes me come. My nipples slowly harden under the teasing hot spray of the shower, the electric drops of the water sending little sparks through my body as they tease across my chest. Heat blooms forbidden and tempting between my legs, and I bite my lip as a traitorous hand begins to slide down my tummy, over my my hips and down between my legs to feel the slippery wetness there.

  The door to the room suddenly opens abruptly, and I gasp, yanked from my reverie by the sound of Bryce jumping out of my forbidden fantasies and storming into the here and now; “What the fuck!” I shriek, yanking my hand away from myself and turning away from the door; “Bryce-“

  “Tell me you’ve never thought of us,” His silhouette growls from the other side of the curtain; “Tell me you’ve never thought of what was, that you’ve never second guessed any of it, and I’ll walk back out that door right now.”

  I bite my lip, trembling and not trusting myself to even open my mouth in that moment.

  His hand reaches out to the curtain, but I don’t shriek and I don’t move as he slowly draws it back. He’s naked; hard and ready for me, with his eyes blazing as he drinks me in; “Tell me you weren’t thinking of me just now, and I’ll leave it, for good.” My heart is roaring and racing like a river as he steps into the shower. My arms are still haphazardly covering myself, but it’s almost like his mere presence has me dropping them slowly to my side, baring myself to him. His eyes roam over my water-dappled skin, over the pink points of my nipples, down my body as I blush.

  He steps into the shower with me, his voice dark and low; “But if even one of those things isn’t true,” He steps even closer, his body practically touching mine as his hand reaches out to cup my chin and lift it towards his face. It’s everything I have not to whimper or moan right then at the feeling of his touch; at the feeling of that spark that lights the fire; “If even one of those things isn’t true, Peyton,” He whispers deeply, leaning closer; “Then there’s no fucking way I’m letting another Goddamn second pass by without kissing you.”

  “Looks like a storm’s coming,” My brother grumbles, looking up at the dark clouds rolling down over the New York skyline in the distance. He cracks his knuckles loudly and I wrinkle my nose.

  “Gross, Logan.” I hate when he does that.

  “Sorry,” He grins. Quinn rolls her eyes at me as if to say “yeah, tell me about it” and leans back into him.

  The smile that crosses my face isn’t altogether dissimilar from his, which makes sense considering we had the same mother. The thought makes me smile even more, watching him and his soon-to-be bride snuggle against each other in the cold of the March afternoon.

  Yeah, cold, slushy and grey, with rain on the horizon; heck of a day for a ground-breaking ceremony.

  But for once, things are actually good. I mean, everyone’s here in Long Island City for the start of construction on the new headquarters for the Archer World Health Foundation, and we’re all, well, good. Hell, my brother and Javier are even talking, which is sort of mind-blowing given the history there.

  “Hey.”

  Well, everything is basically good.

  I turn, keeping my face the neutral stoney blankness I always do around him; “Hey.”

  Bryce nods, his chiseled jaw and his piercing blue eyes about as neutrally stoic as mine. Silence descends between us. This is pretty much about the extent of our conversations over the last year; ever since-

  Well, since we stopped all that.

  “You know,” He arches an eyebrow at me, as if reading my thoughts; “Someday we may even have a real conversation again.”

  I want to grin. I want to crack a smile because that’s just what he does to me. But I can’t do that. I have to stay stoic and cold; I have to let this die, no matter how long it fucking takes.

  “Yep, someday.”

  Bryce nods again, his bright blue eyes looking right into mine; so deep that I wonder if he can tell how much effort it’s taking for me to keep up the bitch attitude I’ve kept around him for the past year. He clears his throat; “So, where’s, uh, what’s-his-fuckin-name.”

  Don’t take the bait, he’s baiting you. And of course, it’s working.

  “Hugh couldn’t make it.” I say icily, my mouth small and my eyes narrowing at him. He grins; of course he grins.

  “He wanted to, really, he just had something come up.” I am not telling Bryce about my breakup. For one, because I’m over it anyways, but also because it’s got nothing to do with him.

  Yeah, keep telling yourself that. I've been through this a hundred freaking times in my head, and we're past this. What happened was a long, long time-

  Ugh. I need to extract myself from this conversation.

  Bryce makes a fake-pout face; “Aww, shame. I really wanted to meet the guy.”

  “No you didn't.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  I set my jaw; “I have to go,” I say, turning to push away from him.

  “Yeah, I hear three feet from wherever I’m standing is the best spot.”

  I feel his hand on my elbow, and I whirl around, quickly pulling my arm back; “People are watching, Bryce,” I say quietly, my eyes looking everywhere but his.

  He rolls his eyes; “They’re watching a backhoe dig frozen dirt, and besides, we’re just talking.”

  “Not anymore.” I turn before he can say anything else, and I can practically feel his damned grin at the back of my head, but I push my way through the small assembled crowd anyways.

  “You alright, kid?”

  Literally anyone else in the world who called me that would get a knee to the groin. Logan gets a pass; “I’m good, just tired; little stressed.”

  “Yeah, Bryce is good with that sort of thing.”

  I freeze, quickly trying to swallow the lump that forms in my chest; “Uh, what?” My whole body goes rigid as I study Logan’s face for a sign that he knows the truth.

  Of course he doesn’t. I’d be disowned or something, and Bryce would probably be head-first through a high-rise window.

  Yeah, relationships with that hanging over its head do splendidly.

  Logan shrugs; “You know, I mean he’s good at helping with things like stress; getting you to slow down, stripping it all away.”

  I groan and turn away to hide the guilty blush on my face. Yeah, Bryce is good at stripping everything away from me; inhibitions, baggage…

  My panties.

  Jesus, relax.

  “Yeah, he’s-”

  I’m still searching my brain for something to say, when something catches my attention; something crossing the grey morning sky and silently approaching the groundbreaking ceremony.