MORE THAN POSSESS YOU

I persuaded my best friend that I should be her first… I’m Hayes Elliott. Since second grade, I’ve had one best friend, Echo Hope. When she graduates from college, of course I have to give her something amazing. Since I’ll be on a business trip to Maui, I’m bringing her along for a week of fun and sun. But once she sheds her long skirts, serious buns, and combat boots for bikinis, I can’t deny how stunning she is…and I can’t stop wanting her. Worse, she’s determined to lose her V-card—and has asked one of our man-whoring buddies to pluck it. I’ve got to step in. It’s underhanded, but I offer to do the job properly. Since I’m no one’s Prince Charming, I have no intention of following through. Suddenly, the kisses start and the clothes come off…and I can’t remember why I’m not supposed to make her mine in every way. Or why I shouldn’t be in love with her. But if I want Echo for more than a vacation fling, I’ll have to fight. And she’s about to find out how determined I am to upgrade my best friend to wife. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ "A beautiful story of love and family... Drama and a fast-paced, steamy and entertaining story.” – Goodreads Reviewer **More Than Possess You is short novel in the Ruthless Devotion Contemporary Romance series, but every book can be read as a standalone. A HOT, romantic story with strong language, sexy times, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after!** ✔️ Instant download • Secure transactions • Read on any device Series: Ruthless Devotion/Hope Series Main Characters: Hayes & Echo Formats: Trade paperback Word Count: 43k Page Count: 149 pages Prior Reading Necessary? No Tropes: Friends to Lovers, Forced Proximity, Grumpy/Sunshine, Manwhore, Virgin 🔥 Inside MORE THAN POSSESS YOU 🔥 Quarter after noon? I jerk upright. How the hell did I sleep so late? I scramble for my phone. Where are you? I text Echo. The message goes unread. Lying here won’t help me find her—or get the answers to my burning questions. Is she still upset? What is she thinking? What is she doing? After charging out of bed, I rake a brush across my teeth and my fingers through my hair, throw on the first pair of shorts and tank I find in my suitcase, then grab my phone—texting Xavian as I leave the room. Seen Echo this morning? No reply. Goddamn it. I hope like hell she hasn’t done something rash. In the hallway, I see Xavian’s door propped open by the housekeeper. When I poke my head in, the maid is making his bed and tidying his room. No sign of X. No matter how many times I press the button to call the elevator, it doesn’t come faster. Finally, I reach the lobby and bound down the stairs, scanning the pools on either side of me. Honeymooners? Check. Parents with little ones? Those, too. Teenagers hang out, and retirees look damn glad their days of keeping up with kids are over. But I don’t see either X or Echo. Retracing the garden path I trekked last night, I search the adults-only pool. But it’s so well hidden, the sucker is virtually empty. A senior citizen in a swim cap glares, silently warning me not to interfere with his laps. Crossing back to the expansive lawn, I scan every visible inch of the property, including the balconies where brunchgoers are feasting. Nothing. Next, I scramble to the walkway and down the steps, avoiding a screaming passel of kids and a pair of lovers holding hands while eye-fucking. Past a riot of tropical flowers, I reach the end of the cement path and zip my stare over the resort guests hanging out at the hotel’s private beach to the soundtrack of someone’s too loud radio blasting Nelly’s “Hot in Herre.” No sloppy bun or ugly yellow one-piece, which is all Echo has ever worn since her swim team days in the tenth grade. Maybe she’s in the water. Maybe she’s avoiding me. Or maybe she’s with Xavian, who’s “comforting” her. He fucking better not be. Then a woman’s ass in a two-sizes-too-small orange bikini snags my attention. This isn’t just any ass. Every golden inch of it is wide and round and juicy perched on top of a teeny, tiny waist. I shouldn’t be distracted when I’m looking for Echo, but this might be the most epic backside I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’d like to lay a lot more than my eyes on it. She’s also got curvy thighs that make me want to run my tongue down one side before I settle my mouth between them. A glance warns me I’m not the only guy fixated on her long, loose braid swinging from one lush hip to the other, swishing against her pert ass with every slow, barefoot step she takes across the warm sand. Wait. She moves like… Holy shit. No. That can’t be. But this woman is the right height. She has the same shade of caramel brown hair. I know Echo said she’d bought some bikinis…but that can’t be the body she’s been hiding under ankle-length skirts, too-big shirts, and comfortable sandals. Right? Xavian pops up from the ocean and starts chasing her. A giggle sounds above a crashing wave, and before the woman even turns her head, the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach warns me that the bikini babe with the most fuckable, bootylicious ass I’ve ever seen is my best friend. She looks over her shoulder at X with a grin, then tosses her head back when he wraps his arms around her and tickles her ribs. Yep. It’s Echo. Fuck. And just like Nelly says, it’s getting hot up in this joint. Holy shit. I slept beside her last night? Without once touching her? Yep. And I’ve somehow looked past her without actually seeing her for years. She turns a mock glare at Xavian before laughing again and poking him in the abs. He retaliates by lifting her into his arms and heading straight for the surf. She squirms and protests. He murmurs something, his green eyes glued to her, his face way too close. I see red. “Echo!” Xavian whips the two of them around. Her smile melts into a guilty expression as he sets her on her feet. Then I get a good look at the rest of her. What’s left of my composure disappears. Never mind the cleavage her new and much briefer dresses have been flashing me. This bikini top is nothing more than two nanoscopic triangles, held together by a flimsy string. The swells of her breasts and a mind-boggling amount of side-boob fill my vision. The thin, damp fabric clings. Her hard nipples jut. Water drips down her sun-kissed ribs, licking over the ripe curve of her hips like a lover. I feel an instant, blinding urge to wrap my palms around them and clutch them tight as I sink my cock inside her, hold myself deep, and ruin her for every other man. Stop thinking like that about your best friend. But why be less than honest? The desire to strip off that bikini and coax her under me is blinding. Shocking. And undeniable. “Hayes,” she manages finally. “We were just, um…hanging out until you woke up.” Slowly, I close the distance between us. I don’t mean to stare, but I can’t tear my gaze from her. This is the funny, tender, romantic goofball I’ve been sharing movies, special occasions, and my deepest thoughts with? How did I not see Echo? And now that I have, I don’t know how I’ll unsee her. 📚Start reading now!