The Troublemaker (Sex & Bonds #2) Read Online Jessica Peterson

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Sex & Bonds Series by Jessica Peterson

Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)

Brooks Huntley is the last guy on earth I should ask to take my virginity.

He's a decade older than me. Lethally hot. And so far out of my league it's not even funny. The biggest downside to my plan, though?

Brooks is my older brother's best friend.

I see Brooks every day when I deliver muffins to his office. With his swaggering confidence and sexy smirk, it's no wonder I've always had a crush on him. But I'm not looking to cause any trouble—at first. I just want to give my V-card a long-overdue swipe.

Too bad I have no game when it comes to picking up guys—but Brooks is a master at charming the pants off women. While Brooks himself is off-limits, who better to study for tips on how to get laid?

When he offers me a weekend away at a five-star resort as thanks for satisfying his sweet tooth, I say yes—with the caveat that he comes too. That way I can watch him in action. He counters with a caveat of his own: he'll come, but my brother can never find out.

On our secret getaway, I do my best to learn from Brooks and take someone new home. But I fail so miserably that Brooks steps in and kisses me "to show me how it should be done."

And can I tell y'all, I just melted.

Now can I convince him to show me how everything should be done?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Wall Street Bathroom


Overheard in stalls across Wall Street. Submit your gossip:

New York, New York

475 Following 4M Followers

@WSBathroom 5/9

If you thought last year’s gossip about Theo Morgan and Nora Frasier was juicy, do we have something for you *rubs hands together*

@WS Bathroom 5/9

Rumor has it a certain mathematical whiz is not only a freak in the spreadsheets, but in the actual sheets as well.

@WSBathroom 5/9

Awesome puns aside, we have it on good authority this genius has a big brain and a bigger . . . skillset in a certain area of expertise.

@WSBathroom 5/9

Also, a big dick. But that only counts (heh) if you know what to do with it. And our numbers guy apparently *knows*, y’all.

@WS Bathroom 5/9

But let’s hope our Erotic Einstein keeps his eyes on the right ball(s). His employer, Atlas & Teton, continues to face headwinds. Another earnings miss, a falling stock price, and the departure of several key executives over the past several months leaves many pondering the investment bank’s future.

@WSBathroom 5/9

In the meantime, if this genius is looking to blow off some steam, I hope he knows he’s free to slide into my DMs. I happen to have a thing for (spread)sheets too.

Chapter One


“So you’re telling me it is too late to say sorry.”

I’m on the other side of the door that separates Drury Lane’s back room from the counter and cash register, but I still jump at the metallic clatter that reverberates through the bakery.

“Fuck you, Dustin.”

“Hannah, if you’d just—”

“I don’t believe you anymore. I saw you! With her! Again!”

A bang. I nearly drop the tray of triple chocolate muffins I’m trying to slide into the refrigerator case. Glancing through the round porthole window in the door, I glimpse Dustin holding up his tattooed hands. “I told you, she’s just a friend. But if you’re not gonna listen, I guess we really are done. I hope you know you broke my heart, Hannah.”

“I hope you break your syphilis-ridden dick inside your syphilis-ridden sidepiece.” Hannah lets out a sob. “You don’t think my heart is broken too?”

I slide the tray into the case and blow my bangs out of my eyes. Checking my watch, I grit my teeth when I see that it’s after six. I need to be on the trading floor now.

Like, right now.

Drury Lane has a storefront in Atlas & Teton’s building, and a cart I wheel up to the floor every morning. The bank is our biggest customer for both. My regulars—this early it’s usually traders, along with a few corner office bigwigs—start lining up at the cart at exactly six-fifteen.

My stomach clenches when I think about how disappointed Brooks Huntley will be if he has to wait for his iced coffee and muffin. Especially this week. It’s always hard this time of year for my brother’s best friend. I want to be there for him, if only because he’s there for me. I mean that literally—he’s always first in line.

But I can’t if I don’t have any muffins, breakfast sandwiches, or coffee to sell. The cart that’s waiting by the door is empty.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. It’s Dustin and Hannah’s job to stock the cart every morning. But my employees, who married young at twenty, are now undergoing a pretty awful divorce at twenty-one. They were excellent coworkers in the beginning. Always on time, always hustling. But their performance took a steep decline once their relationship hit the skids.

I may need their help, but they need my grace more. Which means I have to get my ass in gear. Business at the bakery has been booming, thanks largely to social media and word of mouth, and I can’t afford a misstep now that I’m actually able to pay myself a (very) modest salary.

I shoulder the door open into the back room, inhaling the buttery scent of muffins fresh out of the oven.

“Y’all okay back here?” I ask gently, and send up a silent prayer that one or both of them don’t quit on me. I need to go through the hiring process again like I need a hole in my head.

Hannah sniffles. “I’ll be all right.”

“Aw, man, I completely forgot about the cart,” Dustin says when he sees me lifting a tray of foil-wrapped, made-from-scratch English muffin sandwiches. The egg, sausage, and pimiento cheese combo is a big hit on the trading floor.

I shake my head when he turns to help. “I got it. You two just focus on the ovens.”

It’s nearly six-thirty by the time I make a mad dash around the corner to our building’s main entrance, the wheels of the cart trundling over the sidewalk.

How is my day already a dumpster fire?

Dropping a Drury Lane box on Pete the security guard’s desk, I offer him a breathless smile. “Morning!”

“These blueberry muffins are so good it’s a goddamn crime,” Pete says, and presses the button that opens the frosted glass doors that lead to Atlas & Teton’s elevator bank.