Title: The Brat (Marine Bodyguard #3)
Author Name: Patricia Logan
Publication Date & Length: February 10, 2016 – 96,000 Words
Charles Fordham III has been expelled from Oxford and sent home with his tail between his legs. The self-professed “brat” has always gotten away with things because of his father’s influence and money. Poor Chas is in for the surprise of his life in the form of a tall, well-muscled, former Marine bodyguard… but even more daunting days may lie ahead. Have his years abroad prepared him for the expectations of his father when he’s forced to live up to his legacy?
Tate Heston returns home from Iraq when his beloved career is cut short by an IED. He’s used to turning boys into men and then leading them into battle where sometimes the good guys lose. This makes him even more hesitant about taking on a job guarding a spoiled brat, but he believes he can probably do what he does best… make young Chas a man.
Not everyone wants to see the brat succeed in his father’s place. Things have been running just fine for years and the return of Charles Fordham III and the shake up his arrival causes, has his family’s enemies in a panic. But as the boy assumes his rightful place, Tate understands sometimes a man must take his fight to the enemy… regardless of battlefield… or boardroom.
Chas whirled on Tate, stalking up to him, probably having decided that he was the whole problem. Hell, Tate was totally fine with that. Better he hate him than his father. Hate was easy to handle but he was really surprised when he stopped right in front of him and shouted at him.
“You have no right to tell me how I should talk to my father, you… you cretin!” he screamed.
Tate was only slightly surprised as spittle flew out of Chas’s mouth when he spoke and he raised his hand. Is he gonna…?
Tate reached up and stopped Chas’s slap inches from his cheek as he viciously swung his hand toward him. Tate managed to grasp Chas’s wrist, stopping the blow and the action brought the young man flush up against his body. For a few seconds their faces were inches from each other and with all of Chas’s rage, the way his chest heaved with anger, Tate inexplicably felt his cock harden in his jeans. His fury is magnificent. Tate didn’t know whether he should stop the kid or just bend him over his father’s desk and fuck him right then and there and get it over with.
He let the thought slide through his mind for a few seconds as he stared into Chas’s magnificent angry amber-colored eyes. It’s probably not the right time… more’s the pity.
Tate hesitated only a second and then tore his gaze away from the man’s, bringing Chas’s arm down and then around the man’s side so that he was forced to turn his back on Tate. Chas cried out as Tate deftly brought his hand up between his shoulder blades, causing him to bend forward to take the pressure off or have his arm snapped in the process. A second later, Chas’s knees gave out and he dropped to his knees on the thick carpet to relieve the pressure on his arm.
Tate bent over him, still holding Chas’s fingers up behind his back with one hand. He laid his hand on the back of the young man’s neck, pushing his forehead firmly to the floor with the other hand.
“Ah! You’re hurting me!” Chas gasped out, drooling down toward the carpet beneath him. His body was shuddering but all the fight had gone out of him and he suddenly went boneless as his body relaxed.
Tate leaned down to speak softly at his ear. “No hitting. No slapping. No getting physical of any sort. That clear?” Go ahead. Fight me, you little fucker. I’ll have your jeans around your ankles and my dick up your ass so fast, you won’t know what hit you.
A second later Chas gave an almost imperceptible nod. His chest was heaving and Tate thought he heard a sob come out of the man as he grunted in pain again.
“Okay,” Chas finally ground out through gritted teeth, “Let me up.”
Cherished childhood memories.
My mother was an awesome seamstress and cook, a real 1950-60s homemaker and she was talented. I’m so glad I learned something I could pass on from her to my girls. They are becoming great cooks and both like to sew.
My dad was a writer and a builder and draftsman. I obviously have become an author but I was published before he was. He had two books published the year he died at 85. I am also an artist and have won awards for fine art and painting though I haven’t sat down to do it for years. All my kids are artists and that is super fulfilling for me. At least I know they take after me for something good.
International bestselling author Patricia Logan, resides in Los Angeles, California. The author of several #1 bestselling erotic romances in English, Italian, French, and Spanish lives in a small house with a large family. When she’s not writing her next thriller romance, she’s watching her grandchildren grow up way too soon, and raising kids who make her proud every day. One of her favorite tasks is coaxing nose kisses from cats who insist on flopping on her keyboard while she types. Married to a wonderful man for 30 years, she counts herself lucky to be surrounded by people who love her and give her stories to tell every day.
Become a fan of Patricia at http://authorpatricialogan.com/ and receive a free book of your choice. Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org. She loves to hear from readers more than anything and will respond to all emails.