Lisa Renee Jones Has a VERY Sexy New Novel — Get an Exclusive Sneak Peek!

Wall Street meets Sons of Anarchy in Hard Rules, New York Times bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones's anticipated new novel.

Will the passion and deep sexual attraction between Shane Brandon and Emily Steven go beyond the surface and destroy the Brandon Empire? Or will Shane overcome the the desire to lose his moral compass and save his family's company from corruption and deceit? Read what happens when man meets woman in a dangerous play of family business and sexual desire, in an exclusive excerpt from the first novel in the Dirty Money Series, out Aug. 9.

Read a very sexy (NSFW) excerpt from the novel now!

"What do you want me to do?"
"Stay. Now ask what I think is smart."
"Leaving is smart," she says. "And that would be easier if you just stop making me feel…"
"Making you feel what?"
"Something."
"Something," I repeat, and I weigh that word on my tongue, deciding it needs no further definition. But whatever it is, it's pure in a way that nothing else in my life is—or has been—in far too long and I'm not letting my brother force her into hiding, when it's clear she's already doing that on her own.

I stand, taking her with me, my fingers lacing snugly with hers. "Come," I command softly, leading her up the stairs, through the bedroom and into the bathroom, stopping at the glass-encased shower next to the tub.
Releasing her hand, my fingers find the hem of my T-shirt she's wearing, caressing it upward, my fingers trailing over her skin to pull it over her head and toss it aside. It hasn't even hit the ground when my hands are on her slender waist, my gaze raking over her high breasts and pebbled plump red nipples. "You are so damn beautiful," I murmur, and when I look at her, I let her see the hunger in my stare, the depth of how damn much I want her.

"Shane," she whispers. There's no real reason, but she doesn't need one. She just needs to keep saying it, over and f*cking over.
I release her, and her lashes lower, becoming half-moons on her pale cheeks. When she lifts them again, I've taken off my clothes, and opened the glass door to the shower, silently inviting her to walk inside. She enters, but not before her gaze flickers over my body, lingering on my c*ck, and the look might as well be a lick for the way my body pulses and thickens. There is a predatory part of me she stirs, which is about far more than f*cking, and when she faces me, just outside the stream of water, I stalk forward, backing her up without a touch until she is in the corner. My hands settle on the wall above her, my c*ck jutted, thick and hard, between us, but there is more to this moment than sex. "To hell with being objective. You rock my world and I don't get rocked. I'm damn sure going to do my best to make you do this my way."

"Which is what?"
"You stay with me." I lower my mouth a breath from hers. "Stay."
"Yes," she says, sounding breathless. I knew I was right in that coffee shop when I met her. I damn sure like her breathless and I plan to keep her that way for the rest of the weekend.

I brush my lips over hers, a caress and a tease that I follow with a deep, drugging kiss, the sweet, honey taste of her biting at my self-control. But it's her control I want. It's her command of her secrets. I want to tear away her reserve, and that starts now, with me taking her pleasure and leaving room for nothing else. Driven by that intent, I lower myself to my knees, warm water splaying over my back, while I plan to make her warm all over.

My lips find her belly, and her fingers tunnel into my hair, and this time I don't stop her. This time, I am not driving away her demons, and leaving no room for them. I'm tearing down her walls, and sliding into their place, and I waste no time finding her cl*t and licking it. And licking again, sucking her deeply, using my fingers and tongue to tease and please until she is arching her hips and making soft, sexy sounds of pleasure I feel in the pulse of my own body. I explore, lick, touch, and it is only minutes before she is tugging at my hair, a rough burn that tells me she is on edge where I want her. With only a few more caresses of my tongue, her sex is clenching around my fingers. I ease her into release and back down. When she calms, I stand, cupping her face and kissing her. That sweet honey taste of all of her is on my tongue and I want more.