Former tennis player Easton Bradbury is trying to be the best teacher she can be, trying to reach her bored students and trying to forget her past. What brought her to this stage in her life isn’t important. She can’t let it be. But now one parent-teacher meeting may be her undoing…
Meeting Tyler Marek for the first time makes it easy for Easton to see why his son is having trouble in school. The man knows how to manage businesses and wealth, not a teenage boy. Or a young teacher, for that matter, though he tries to. And yet…there is something about him that draws Easton in—a hint of vulnerability, a flash of attraction, a spark that might burn.
Wanting him is taboo. Needing him is undeniable. And his long-awaited touch will weaken Easton’s resolve—and reveal what should stay hidden…
(*STANDALONE, NO CLIFFHANGER*)
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Review by Michelle:
A teacher and a parent sneaking around together? As a lover of all romances of the taboo variety, especially those of the student/teacher persuasion, how could I say no? Not to mention the name on the cover. When it comes to all things Penelope Douglas, there is never a question. Misconduct is a thrillingly sexy story that lures you in with the promise of an inexorable connection and keeps you hooked with abounding sexual tension, irresistible charm, the seductive appeal of an illicit affair, and a gasp inducing twist.
Nobody does an antagonistic relationship like Penelope Douglas, and I mean nobody. The heat between Tyler Marek and Easton Bradbury as they initially playfully provoke on another is scorching, then the real animosity kicks in making the tension between these two downright incendiary. Like watching two bulls face off, you can feel something powerful building and when these formidable foes finally come together, you may just want to have a fire extinguisher handy as things heat up exponentially.
Although I absolutely adored Easton, I only have two words. Tyler. Marek. While politicians have certainly never been my thing, I would be willing to make an exception for this alluring aspiring senator. Not only passionate in his private life, this reformed self-centered womanizer has only the noblest of plans for a senate seat, a burning desire to right the wrongs of his relationship with his son, and a newfound willingness to settle down once the right woman crosses his path. Mr. Marek takes charge in all aspects of his life and while this is the cause of most of the contention with Ms. Bradbury, it is positively sizzling behind closed doors.
The thirty-five year old father of a fourteen year old freshman who just so happens to be the student of the twenty-three year old Easton Bradbury, this story is delectably scandalous on many levels. The risk of being found out certainly ramps up the heat making every indecent thought, every furtive glance, and every stolen touch that much more stimulating, while the relationship the two form, their connection, their compatibility, their discourse, and their banter is what really steals the show.
I love a feisty heroine and Easton fits the bill perfectly. The only thing I love more is a strong, confident hero who loves to be challenged by a sassy woman and doesn't shy away when he finally meets his match. A seemingly unlikely and outwardly inappropriate pair, Tyler and Easton are actually the perfect complement to one another who will make you fall in love and wholeheartedly support them both as individuals and as a couple.
Be sure to have ample time when picking up this book and it wouldn't hurt to have a fan nearby as Misconduct is intriguing and titillating, intelligent and fun, sweet and seriously steamy, and in typical Penelope Douglas fashion, utterly unputdownable.
*complimentary copy provided by publisher in exchange for an honest review
Rating: 4.5 Stars
About the Author:
Penelope Douglas is a writer and teacher in Las Vegas. Born in Dubuque, Iowa, she is the oldest of five children. Penelope attended the University of Northern Iowa, earning a Bachelor's degree in Public Administration, because her father told her to "just get the damn degree!" She then earned a Masters of Science in Education at Loyola University in New Orleans, because she HATED public administration. One night, she got tipsy and told the bouncer at the bar where she worked (yes, she was drunk at work)that his son was hot, and three years later she was married. To the son, not the bouncer. They have spawn, but just one. A daughter named Aydan. Penelope loves sweets, the show Sons of Anarchy, and she shops at Target almost daily.
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Attendees laughed and danced inside, while the two of us, alone in the cold night with only a few other people lounging around the large balcony, carried on with our stolen moment.
“I should really get back, though,” I suggested, pulling away.
My brother was no doubt looking for me.
But he reached out and grabbed my hand, narrowing his eyes. “Not yet,” he urged, looking behind me toward the ballroom.
I stopped, not making a move to take away my hand.
He stood in front of me, his chest nearly touching mine.
“You’re right,” he whispered, his breath falling over me. “I don’t really like a lot of those people, and they don’t really know me.” His voice turned hoarse. “But I like you. I’m not ready to say good night yet.”
I swallowed, hearing the soft trickle of a slow jazz tune drifting out from the ballroom.
“Dance with me,” he commanded.
He didn’t wait for a response.
Sliding a hand around my waist, he guided me in, and I sucked in a sharp breath, my body meeting his for the first time.
Raising my arms, I put my right hand on his shoulder and my left hand in his as I let him lead me in a small circle, remaining in our own small, private space. Chills broke out down my arms, but I didn’t think he noticed.
I let my eyes fall closed for a moment, not understanding what made him feel so good. My hands tingled and my legs felt weak.
There was rarely ever a time when I felt drawn to a man. I’d felt attraction and passion, and I’d enjoyed sex, but I’d never opened myself up to someone long enough to connect.
Now I found myself not wanting this evening to end any way other than in his arms.
That’s where I wanted this to go. I didn’t need his name, what he did for a living, or his family history. I just wanted to be close to someone and feel good, and maybe that would be enough to satisfy me for the next few months until I needed someone again.
Shaking my head slightly, I tried to clear my thoughts.
Enough, Easton. He was good-looking and interesting, but I didn’t see anything in him that I hadn’t seen in any other man.
He wasn’t special.
Looking up, I asked, “You’re not enjoying the party, so what would you rather be doing right now?”
He shot me a small, sexy smile. “I like what I’m doing right now.”
I rolled my eyes, covering up how much I also liked him holding me close. “I mean, if not this?”
He twisted his lips, looking me over like he was thinking. “I’d be working, I guess,” he answered. “I work a lot.”
So he’d rather be doing work than schmoozing and drinking at a Mardi Gras ball? I dipped my head, breaking out in a laugh.
“What?” He pinched his eyebrows together.
I met his eyes, seeing the confusion. “You prefer work,” I stated. “I can relate to that.”
He nodded. “My work challenges me, but it’s also predictable. I like that,” he admitted. “I don’t like surprises.”
I instantly slowed, nearly stopping our dance.
I said the same thing all the time. I never liked surprises.
“Everything else outside of work is unpredictable,” I added for him. “It’s hard to control.”
He cocked his head and brought his hand up to my face, running his thumb along my cheek.
“Yeah,” he mused, leaning in while his hand circled the back of my neck possessively. “But there are times,” he said softly, “when I like to lose control.”
I closed my eyes. Jesus.
“What’s your last name?” he asked.
I opened my eyes, blinking. My last name? I had kind of liked keeping specifics off the table. I didn’t even know his first name yet.
“Easton?” he pressed.
I narrowed my eyes. “Why do you want to know that?”
He stepped forward, charging me slowly and pushing me backward. I had to keep backing up so as not to fall. “Because I intend on getting to know you,” he said. It sounded like a threat.
“Because I like talking to you,” he shot back, his voice thick with a laugh he was holding in.
I hit the wall behind me and stopped, glancing over at the people sitting at the table across the balcony.
He closed the remaining distance between us and dipped down until his face was a couple of inches from mine.
I locked my hands behind my back, instinctively tapping the wall with my fingers and counting in my head. One, two, three—
“Do you like me?” He cut me off, a playful tilt to his lips.
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. I turned my head, but I knew he saw it anyway.
“I don’t know,” I answered casually. “You might be too much of a gentleman.”
The corner of his lips curled, looking sinister, and he threaded his hand around the back of my neck and through my hair, gripping my waist with the other and pressing his body to mine.
“Which means I’m still a man, only with more skill,” he whispered against my lips, making my breath shake. “And there’s only one place I won’t be careful with you.”
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