Break Me: A Sexy Contemporary Romance

By Tracy Wolff

New York Times bestselling author Tracy Wolff delivers the final installment in her thrillingly romantic Art of Pleasure series.

Seven days, seven nights…

One week of passion.

One week of submission.

One week where anything—and everything—goes.

Destiny Bridges has always been driven by the images in her head. For most of her life, her art has been everything to her, with people and life and even sex coming in very distant seconds.

Until journalist Heath Lewis comes to town to interview her for one of the top art magazines in the world. Suddenly he’s asking all kinds of questions she doesn’t know how to answer…and pushing her in ways she never imagined possible.

Ways that have her craving him and the pleasure he so effortlessly gives her.

With Heath, Destiny lets her body take control for the first time in her life. For one week, she gives herself over to all the wicked, wonderful things Heath demands of her, and in doing so learns more about herself—and her art—than she ever dreamed possible.

But when the week is over and Heath is still pushing for more—pushing for everything—she must decide if the changes he’s brought to her life, and her art, are changes she can live with for the rest of her life.

This book is approximately 25,000 words

The Dirty Bits from Carina Press give you what you want, when you want it. Designed to be read in an hour or two, these sex-filled microromances are guaranteed to pack a punch and deliver a happily-ever-after.



One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carina Press
• Release date: Jun 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781488053795

Tracy Wolff

Tracy Wolff collects books, English degrees and lipsticks. At six she wrote her first short story and ventured into the world of girls’ lit. By ten she’d read everything in the young adult and classics sections of her local bookstore, so started on romance novels. And from the first page, she'd found her life-long love. Tracy lives in Texas with her husband and three sons, where she writes and teaches at the local college. She can be reached online at www.tracywolff.com.

Book preview

The Dirty Bits from Carina Press logo

New York Times bestselling author Tracy Wolff delivers the final installment in her thrillingly romantic Art of Pleasure series.

Seven days, seven nights...

One week of passion.

One week of submission.

One week where anything—and everything—goes.

Destiny Bridges has always been driven by the images in her head. For most of her life, her art has been everything to her, with people and life and even sex coming in very distant seconds.

Until journalist Heath Lewis comes to town to interview her for one of the top art magazines in the world. Suddenly he’s asking all kinds of questions she doesn’t know how to answer...and pushing her in ways she never imagined possible.

Ways that have her craving him and the pleasure he so effortlessly gives her.

With Heath, Destiny lets her body take control for the first time in her life. For one week, she gives herself over to all the wicked, wonderful things Heath demands of her, and in doing so learns more about herself—and her art—than she ever dreamed possible.

But when the week is over and Heath is still pushing for more—pushing for everything—she must decide if the changes he’s brought to her life, and her art, are changes she can live with for the rest of her life.

The Dirty Bits from Carina Press give you what you want, when you want it. Designed to be read in an hour or two, these sex-filled microromances are guaranteed to pack a punch and deliver a happily-ever-after.

One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!

This book is approximately 25,000 words

Also available from Tracy Wolff

and Carina Press

Take Me

Make Me

Also available from Tracy Wolff

and Harlequin

Claimed

Pursued

Unwrapped

Conflicted

Unguarded

Embraced

No Apologies

About the Baby

Beginning with Their Baby

From the Beginning

Deserving of Luke

Healing Dr. Alexander

Also available from Tracy Wolff

Ruined

Addicted

Exposed

Flawed

Lovegame

Play Me

Shredded

Shattered

Slashed

Down and Dirty

Hot and Heavy

Rough and Ready

Royal Pain

Royal Treatment

Accelerate

Full Exposure

Tie Me Down

Crash into Me

Drive Me Crazy

Fade into You

Lyric and Lingerie

Harmony and High Heels

Break Me

Tracy Wolff

The Dirty Bits from Carina Press logo

Contents

Day One: Heath

Day Two: Destiny

Day Three: Heath

Day Four: Destiny

Day Five: Heath

About the Author

Day One: Heath

I glance at my watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. Turns out it looks just like it did thirty seconds ago, the minute hand not even having the decency to creep up one tick since I last looked. It’s eleven thirty-seven, which means Destiny Bridges is now officially thirty-seven—nope, make that thirty-eight—minutes late.

The waiter comes by and fills my coffee cup for the third time since I sat down. This time he doesn’t bother to ask if I’m still waiting for my friend. But he does give me a pitying glance, like he knows I’ve been stood up. I shrug, give him my best what’s-a-guy-to-do look. Then check my watch again.

Eleven thirty-nine.

I check my phone. Still no text answering the one I sent thirteen minutes ago, asking if we were still on. And still no explanation as to why she isn’t here.

I take a long swallow of coffee, ignoring the way it burns all the way down as I contemplate just how much longer I’m supposed to wait.

As long as it takes, I remind myself. Those are the rules of the profession, after all.

I once waited three hours to talk to an NSA whistleblower in the heart of downtown Moscow.

Four hours to speak with an MI6 agent in the middle of war-torn Damascus.

Six hours to question a deposed dictator from South America.

Thirty-nine—no, forty—minutes, is nothing.

Still, there’s a big difference between a spy trying to evade detection and a small town glass artist—no matter how successful—who should be ecstatic at the idea of covering the most influential art magazine in the western hemisphere. I figured she would be here half an hour early, chomping at the bit for the publicity and accolades an interview like this could give her. The fact that she isn’t—and that she doesn’t even care enough to text an explanation—intrigues me as much as it pisses me off.

And it does piss me off. For the most part, if people are late to an interview with me it’s because their lives—or someone else’s—are in danger. It’s because showing up to do a Heath Lewis interview—even if it’s in secret—might get them killed.

But Destiny is no deposed politician. And I am a shadow of the interviewer—and the man—I used to be. Maybe that’s why this wait is growing more and more unbearable. Because a part of me knows she never would have done this to me...before.

I cut off that line of thought—like I do everything else I don’t want to think about these days—and spend the next nineteen minutes going over my notes about Destiny and the questions I want to ask when she gets here. If she gets here.

The waiter comes back around just as my watch hits twelve o’clock, and I decide to hell with it. Shaking my head no to another cup of coffee, I shove all my shit back in my bag. Then I toss a ten-dollar bill on the table to cover my cup of coffee and head for the door. And my rental car.

If Destiny Bridges won’t come to me, then I’ll go to her. We were supposed to meet at her studio tomorrow for the second half of the interview anyway. I’m just speeding up the timeline.

It only takes about twenty minutes to get from the diner to Destiny’s place on the outskirts of town, and by the time I get there, I’m more determined than ever to get this story. This is only the third freelance story I’ve chosen to work on since I got out of the hospital and there’s no way I’m fucking it up. Because if I have to go back to staring at my office walls for the next nine months I’m going to lose my shit completely.

After turning onto the gravel driveway my GPS says leads to her place, I drive another five minutes through heavy woods before I actually get to a clearing with a building. Two buildings, actually. One a cozy looking cabin with a front porch swing and flower boxes on the window and the other a towering, forbidding looking barn.

My gut tells me the barn—with its black paint and giant no soliciting sign—is where I’ll find her. I park in front of it and gather my stuff before climbing out of the car. But my fucking leg has stiffened up on the drive out here, so I take a couple minutes to walk it off. Because Destiny’s house and studio are right on a lake, I head that way. After years of being embedded in the heat and sand of the Middle East, I can’t help being drawn to the water. Especially when it’s so clear and blue.

I round the corner of the barn, telling myself I’m just going to stand there for a minute or two. Just going to soak up the energy from the water before I go beard the artist in her den.

But I only make it one more step before getting stopped in my tracks by the hottest thing I have ever seen.

It’s Destiny—I recognize her from the publicity shots I found online—but it’s not her face I’m looking at right now. How can it