Dark, Sexy, and Just My Kind of Evil

By Jo Lavollee

Intense and independent Chloe moves in with Sean and Adam, the two hottest guys at her university. Handsome and dark Sean soon lets her know in no uncertain terms that he's drawn to both her and his friend Adam. Adam is as shy as he is open and gorgeous, but daring Chloe might be the perfect woman to play into Sean’s twisted fantasies. There's just one catch: Sean wants her to submit, while she likes to lead the dance. As they fight for control, Chloe finds out that the stakes of this game may be far higher than she first thought.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jo Lavollee
• Release date: Sep 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005332334

Jo Lavollee

Hi! I’m Jo. I write character-driven steamy romance. My stories tend to come in serials because I love complications. I find nothing’s spicier than characters taking a life of their own.So prepare for adventurous scenarios, very sophisticated friendships, dangerous games, power plays, leading ladies, sexy tricksters, and handsome princes in distress. I like dark alpha males as well as vulnerable cuties. And my female characters tend to come with a rebel streak or a temper. Sue me.You can read stories out of order if you’re just here for a one-night stand. Or you can climb in for the entire ride, thrills, emotions and all. That’s up to you.Firsts in series will generally be free. When a story arc is done, bundles will ensue, and they will read like novels, with a Happily Ever After, or at least a Happy For Now. Stay tuned!

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Dark, Sexy, and Just My Kind of Evil

Silk & Gravel 1

By Jo Lavollee

Copyright 2020 Jo Lavollee

Smashwords Edition

Note to the reader and Smashwords Edition license notes

This story is part of an erotic romance series, so it is loaded with adult content, sexy scenes, crude words, and even the occasional swear word. Be advised that it may come with weird side effects such as panties melting, hot daydreaming or, I don’t know, the occasional stiffy. If all of this is upsetting to you, you don’t have to read it.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of contents

Dark, Sexy, and Just My Kind of Evil

Other stories by Jo Lavollee

Dark, Sexy, and Just My Kind of Evil

We were at home, my roommates Sean and Adam and I, in the vast living area of our apartment. I had a paper to finish for management class and had spread my notes and books all over the dining room table, unable to take another minute alone in my room. I’d spent the whole day studying there and I was never, ever going back.

Sean was standing near the sofa like a massive black star, swallowing time, space and attention like he always did. He’d just gotten back from work and was still in his yummy suit, although his shirt was rumpled and his dark hair was messy, like he’d been fucking someone in the office-supply closet or something. He was working part-time at a real estate agency, and I don’t normally like real estate agents, but boy did he look good in that suit. It really did wonders to showcase his broad shoulders, his long legs and concave stomach.

Come to think of it, I’d never really seen him wearing anything remotely casual. Slacks and a long-sleeved shirt was about as relaxed as he got. While Adam the jock could be found at all times parading in various stages of undress, the only naked skin Sean ever showed were his hands, which for some reason made them look even sexier. He had big, strong hands, graceful but not feminine in any way. And they looked capable, not real estate hands at all. I liked to gaze at them often.

There was nothing between Sean and I, of course. Like most good-looking guys our age, he was something of a player. We’d been roommates for about four weeks, just noticing each other from afar mostly, and keeping to our respective tracks.

Adam, the third flatmate of our new association, was in the kitchen, his natural habitat, chugging OJ like there was no tomorrow. He was a basketball player in the varsity team, a huge hulking redhead who was rumored to leave a trail of damaged girls everywhere he went, but was actually rather sweet, almost shy.

Yes, I was stuck in studying limbo with two of the university’s hottest guys for roommates. Don’t think I didn’t get the irony. It was pure luck, good or bad, that I’d landed in that apartment with them. Their friend Will had suddenly decided to drop out and take a trip around the world, and they’d needed a third party to make the rent of this huge place every month. At about the same time, I’d just barely escaped a nightmarish fall with the roommate from hell. And now, having just found a better place to stay, I was trying my best to get through the first semester in time.

The place was huge, with enormous rooms that befit the social status and the dimensions of its male inhabitants. The guys had interviewed me before they agreed to let me move in. They’d told me to sit on this very black leather couch here and had grilled me for the better part of an hour, before deciding that I was a good fit.

Meaning, they’d probably judged I could pay my share of the rent, do the dishes, not cause any trouble, not make too much noise, and not mind their partying, philandering ways. Which I hadn’t, mostly.

What’s for dinner? Adam asked.

I gave him a scathing look. Because I’d made him lasagna once, he seemed to think I should feed him now.

I don’t know, I answered. What are you cooking?

He shrugged. Don’t have time to cook. I need to rest, hydrate, and then, take a shower.

You are such a diva.

I’ll cook something, Sean announced, cutting in.

Sean could cook, but seldom chose to.

What’s going on? I asked. Come to think of it, why are you even here?

He cocked an eyebrow at me. What do you mean? I live here.

You’re never home in the evenings. You always do . . . stuff, go places, see people.

He thought about it for a second. You’re right. Well, tonight I must not be otherwise engaged. I can cook. You just stay over there and write . . . whatever it is you’re writing.

I looked at the screen of my laptop.