Love and Wargames: A Bad Boy Hacker Romance

BOOK: Love and Wargames: A Bad Boy Hacker Romance
ads

Contents

 

Title Page

Copyright

Snake Eyes Reading Order

Love and Wargames: A Bad Boy Hacker Romance

Bonus Book

Chapter 1: Boxcar

Chapter 2: Caleb

Chapter 3: Caleb

Chapter 4: Boxcar

Chapter 5: Boxcar

Chapter 6: Caleb

Chapter 7: Caleb

Chapter 8: Boxcar

Chapter 9: Caleb

Chapter 10: Caleb

Chapter 11: Boxcar

Chapter 12: Caleb

Chapter 13: Boxcar

Chapter 14: Boxcar

Chapter 15: Caleb

Chapter 16: Caleb

Chapter 17: Boxcar

Chapter 18: Caleb

Chapter 19: Boxcar

Chapter 20: Caleb

Chapter 21: Boxcar

Chapter 22: Boxcar

Chapter 23: Caleb

Chapter 24: Boxcar

Bonus Book

Title Page

Copyright

Untouched: A Bad Boy MMA Romance

Chapter 1: Who Are You?

Chapter 2: I'm A Prisoner

Chapter 3: Factory Equipment

Chapter 4: Follow The Noise

Chapter 5: Now Hit Me

Chapter 6: It's Tradition

Chapter 7: Promise Me Again

Chapter 8: Get The Blood Off

Chapter 9: You're Not A Monster

Chapter 10: Start Over

Chapter 11: Code Of Conduct

Chapter 12: Girls And Bad Boys

Chapter 13: I'll Take Care Of You

Chapter 14: A Better Man

Chapter 15: The Untouchable

Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Tabatha Kiss

Copyright

LOVE AND WARGAMES:

A BAD BOY HACKER ROMANCE

 

SNAKE EYES | BOOK 3

 

 

TABATHA KISS

 

 

 

Copyright © 2016 by Tabatha Kiss

All Rights Reserved.

 

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form

without written permission from the author.

 

This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All characters detailed within are eighteen years of age or older.

No characters engaging in sexual acts are blood-related.

 

WARNING:
This novel contains explicit descriptions of

erotic and sexual acts that some may find offensive,

including perverse adult language.

Reader discretion advised.

 

http://tabathakiss.com

 

To sign up for exclusive updates on upcoming novels

please click here:
http://eepurl.com/bn_pKL

 

The SNAKE EYES Series

Stand-alone Romances.

Interconnecting Stories.

One Unforgettable Adventure.

 

 

::READING ORDER::

 

#1: Bodyguard: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance

#2: The Hitman’s Dancer: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

#3: Love and Wargames: A Bad Boy Hacker Romance

LOVE AND WARGAMES:

A BAD BOY HACKER ROMANCE

SNAKE EYES | BOOK 3

 

BY TABATHA KISS

 

BOXCAR

 

We got married two years ago.

I haven’t seen her since.

 

We met in Afghanistan. She was a soldier. I was a geek with a laptop.

I never thought I stood a chance but a few secret trysts together proved otherwise.

 

Tragedy struck and it tore us apart but I never stopped loving her.

 

Now, Snake Eyes is looking for me and they sent two of their best assassins to track me down.

There’s only one person I can trust to keep me safe and she hates my guts.

 

Caleb Fawn. My estranged wife.

This should be fun.

 

CALEB

 

I don’t believe in second chances.

But this is Boxcar we’re talking about here.

 

We met in Afghanistan. He was a smart-ass. I was his bodyguard.

I wanted to keep it professional but just one look in his eyes was enough to melt my damn panties off.

 

It couldn’t last. Being a soldier comes with a price and I wasn’t about to let him pay it.

 

Now, Snake Eyes wants what he’s got and they’ll get it unless I help him.

The only problem is that the two of us can’t be in the same room together without screaming at each other or tearing our clothes off. Sometimes both.

 

Boxcar. My idiot husband.

This should be a disaster.

 

The SNAKE EYES Series

Stand-alone Romances.

Interconnecting Stories.

One Unforgettable Adventure.

After
Love and Wargames
, please enjoy

Untouched: A Bad Boy MMA Romance

as a bonus read!

 

Thank you for reading!

 

xoxo

TK

 

Chapter 1

Boxcar

 

Boston

Present Day

 

Rob from the rich. Give to the poor.

It’s an ideology so beloved people have written songs about it. The classic tale of heroic vigilantism that people usually have no moral issues with despite it going against most standards of basic American economics.

But I ain’t Robin Hood.

And this rich prick had it coming anyway.

Ian Botsford is the last in long line of assholes, assuming he never knocks up his young, co-ed girlfriend. On the outside, he seems like a pretty decent guy — your standard handsome, billionaire philanthropist — until you start peeling back the layers to discover a few particularly creepy traditions that reach pretty far up the Botsford family tree, including one annual party that’s so skeevy even I won’t touch it.

Mr. Botsford and his wealthy, social elite buddies like to lure young ladies (the more jail-baity, the better) into his hotels to be auctioned off to the highest bidder for the night. I mean, I’m not exactly the picture of healthy morality, but come on…

Gross.

I’ve spent the last several weeks traveling to various Botsford Plaza Hotels around the country, inserting a special, completely undetectable, line of code into their payroll systems. Nothing too crazy, just a worm that eats up one percent of every dollar that passes through. Each Botsford Plaza moves — on average — one million dollars each month through their payroll accounts. So far, I’ve uploaded this worm to twenty-five of this bastard’s hotels. One percent of one million dollars times twenty-five. Let me do the math for you.

Two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

And I don’t even have to leave my desk.

In the grand scheme of things, this will be a parking ticket for him. He probably won’t even notice the money is gone and by the time he does, I’ll be in Fiji doing jell-o shots off an islander’s voluptuous tits.

Well… maybe not that last part but it still beats the hell out of Boston in May.

I sit back in my desk chair and stare at the clock on the wall. Three minutes until midnight. The payroll department finalizes their transactions at twelve-oh-one east coast time every payday. They never miss it. It’s the very definition of clock work and quite possibly the most impressive thing about the staff at Botsford Plaza Hotels. They know their shit. From management to maids, those places are run tight as virgin priestesses.

If only their C.E.O. wasn’t such a massive cunt.

Twelve-oh-clock.
Almost there…

I crack my knuckles and sit up, looking through my own reflection staring back at me in my desktop computer monitor. It’s been a few days since I’ve shaved and even longer since I’ve hit the gym but I’ve been busy, dammit. What’s your excuse? I slide my glasses off and wipe the fingerprints clean before clacking the keyboard, preparing to activate the rather hungry worm slipping its way through twenty-five separate payroll systems. All I have to do is tell it to start chomping and my bank account fills up like magic.

ADS
15.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
READ BOOK DOWNLOAD BOOK

Other books

Dark Cravings by Pryce, Madeline
The Third-Class Genie by Robert Leeson
Palm for Mrs. Pollifax by Dorothy Gilman
Race Against Time by Piers Anthony
A Certain Latitude by Janet Mullany
Beast of Venery by Lawless, Isabell
The Forgotten City by Nina D'Aleo