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Bedroom Bully, by Trista Russell
Ebook Download Bedroom Bully, by Trista Russell
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Trista Russell, author of Going Broke and Dead Broke, turns up the heat in this erotic urban tale featuring a powerful attraction between a fugitive and the woman he is holding captive.
In this sizzling adventure from Trista Russell, danger, sex, and drama combine in an unforgettable story—for fans of such bestselling authors as Noire and Vicky Stringer.
When Audra Lopez is sitting in her weekly after-work hangout watching the news, she never imagines that she would actually run into the man the reporters are calling the "Turnpike Cop Killer." But once Audra returns to her home, she finds Dean Casey is waiting there for her, with a gun in hand. Dean never expected to be in this situation. He considers himself a good, hardworking, and loving father. But from the moment he found out that his young daughter has been molested, he can’t seem to think straight and has made some very poor decisions. Now he’s on the run from the cops, holding Audra hostage, and still trying to find a way to save his daughter before things take a turn for the worse. And the undeniably strong attraction between Dean and Audra takes them on a journey they never could have expected.
- Sales Rank: #989094 in Books
- Published on: 2010-01-26
- Released on: 2010-01-26
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 8.25" h x .80" w x 5.31" l, .48 pounds
- Binding: Paperback
- 272 pages
From Publishers Weekly
Russell (Dead Broke) walks a fine line between African American romantic suspense and pornography in this melodramatic tale of a misunderstood killer and the clueless woman who becomes his lover. "I don't think I could ever be raped," announces a horny female companion of the heroine, Audra Chandler, after a few drinks in a Miami, Fla., bar one night. "I enjoy dick entirely too much." Later, as Audra is about to enter her apartment, Dean Tyson, dubbed "the Turnpike Cop Killer" on the TV news, threatens her with a gun. Inside, Dean tells Audra he didn't mean to kill the two cops he shot earlier that day. Besides, he was angry at the time because he was trying to reach his seven-year-old daughter, Destiny LeAnn, who'd been molested by the girl's mother's pederast boyfriend. Torrid sex ensues. Is it a case of the Stockholm syndrome or just pure craziness that causes Audra to fall for Dean? Warning: this slick erotic thriller may offend women who have been victims of sexual assault.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
About the Author
Trista Russell lives in Chicago, Illinois, with her husband, and she is the author of Dead Broke, Fly on the Wall, and Chocolate Covered Forbidden Fruit.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Journal Entry:
Audra
All the local drunken regulars were at the local bar watching a search for a maniac when Kayla shouted out, "I don't think I could ever be raped. I enjoy dick entirely too much." She took everyone's attention away from the television.
"I think everyone heard you," Jackie, her seemingly shy friend said while nudging her.
"I don't care. None of these cheap bastards bought my drinks" -- she got even louder -- "and they never do, so I don't have to act like a lady for anyone in here."
"Yeah, but you never know who's listening," Jackie said, "and hearing you say something like that about sex could plant a bad seed in one of their sick minds."
"So what? I haven't had any in a while," Kayla said and pointed at a man across the bar. "If I planted a seed in your mind, let me know, 'cause you can have it, baby." Everyone around the bar laughed.
I don't know if it was what I was drinking or the fact that I too was longing for sex, but I found myself pondering her statement about rape. I secretly agreed with her. I couldn't see someone having to force me to have sex. I love it. Unless it was the neighborhood crackhead. What puzzles me is how she made the connection between the news story and sex. She was a bona fide freak. We were all gathered at the bar with our eyes glued to the forty-two-inch plasma television watching a tragic story unfold in our backyards -- literally. Some new faces were at the bar because they couldn't get to their houses. The Miami-Dade police had all streets within a ten-mile radius of the crime shut down as they vigorously searched for the maniac who shot and killed two police officers at a routine traffic check. Florida's turnpike was shut down, and police were randomly searching cars entering or leaving the Cutler Bay area. It was a hot mess on a Friday night.
Regularly scheduled television programming had been preempted all day. People were told to stay indoors, and those who lived in the area where the crime occurred were told to stay with friends or family until the situation was completely under control. It was crazy. I left work at five, took the train and a bus to get to my car only to be stuck in traffic for two hours because of some asshole with a death wish. He had to be suicidal, because as soon as they showed his picture on the news, a black man, everybody knew that the police would make Swiss cheese out of him the first chance they got.
"I wonder if they would've done all of this if he shot just the average person," Kayla asked her friend. "Those bastards would be at Dunkin' Donuts." A few of us laughed at that thought. Her ranting was nothing new; she came in all the time. We all gathered at this local watering hole several times a week like Christians meeting for Bible study. She always drank screwdrivers and she was always at the bar on Fridays at six thirty-five. I know because I get there at six fifteen.
I don't know how Sammie's became the hot spot for drinkers. It could be that drinks were always two-for-one, and the characters who walked through the door couldn't be found anywhere else, not even on soap operas. Tonight, a dude we all call Dirty Harry, because he is a white guy who always wears a cowboy hat, was there. I can always count on Harry to be there. It's sad but refreshing to see a familiar face. I also like seeing Anthony, a good-looking brotha who is a manager at some local office. He was better looking before he started having sex with half the women who hung out at the bar. Now he got one of them pregnant. Crystal, the sloppy drunk, has given all the male bartenders head. She always made sure to do a good job, so she expected more than just the two-for-one deal, but she was always too drunk to notice that she was still paying full price.
As we all know, the spirit of alcohol temporarily delays good judgment, so people around the bar go home together all the time, and then, "lo and behold," things are never the same again. You'll see Jamal and Tamika chatting it up week after week, then all of a sudden she'd rather stand up if the only seat at the bar is next to him. That's the result of the two-for-one special and a lonely Friday night.
I have also gotten caught up. The men of Omega Psi Phi used to stop by after some of their frat meetings on the first Saturday of every month. At times, it would be only four or five of them and other times it would rain purple and gold everywhere. The eye candy was sweet, and they would behave like dawgs, barking and hopping.
However, there was one guy in particular who caught my eye. I had nicknamed him Mr. Suave. He was very charming and I would have to change my underwear every time I saw him walk through my door. It was orgasmic. His essence just reeked sex. His dark brown chocolate eyes would stare at me from across the bar and would tell me just what he wanted. I hoped to God that he knew he could have it.
One glorious night seven months ago, it all came to fruition when I left my cell phone on the bar and went to the restroom. I returned to my phone and noticed a text message: "What color panties are you wearing?" It was from a number I didn't recognize.
"You have the wrong person," I replied.
Another text came in: "I beg to differ, Ms. Low-Cut Pink Shirt."
I glanced around the restaurant and bar in search of someone who knew me. "Who is this?" I asked.
"Answer my question and I'll answer yours."
I already had four tequila sunrises and probably needed to take my butt home, but oh, no. I wrote back, "Black...lace...thong."
"You look delicious."
"LOL! C'mon, for real, who is this?" I asked playfully.
"One of the bartenders said that you call me Mr. Suave." Before I could pick my mouth up off the floor, another message came in: "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Darryl."
I couldn't believe that we were talking...texting...or whatevering. "Hi, I'm Audra."
"Nice name, but I'd rather continue calling you what I've called you in my mind for weeks."
I couldn't even look up at him. I just stared at my phone. "What's that?" I typed.
"Sexy as hell," he wrote to me again. "May I call you that?"
"Sure." I blushed and finally glanced over at him. He wasstaring at me.
"May I join you?" he asked.
I could already feel my lower lips throbbing. "Yes, you may," I typed, fighting to be polite.
Darryl was six one or two, athletic build, dark chocolate, with striking and unique features and perfectly aligned pearly white teeth. He was handsome, smooth, and sexy. He was wearing khaki slacks, a beige shirt, and a speckled brown tie. I wondered how long I could wait before that tie was dangling in my face as he sweated on top of me.
He came over and sat next to me. We talked, and I blushed as the right corner of his upper lip curled when he smiled. I had a feeling we'd be lying naked somewhere together before midnight. Now, I don't make a habit of sleeping with strangers. But this guy had captivated my mind for weeks without ever speaking a single word to me, so I had to be honest with my body.
I didn't resist him that evening or any other evening since then. Darryl takes full control during sex. He doesn't "let" me do anything; he tells me what he wants me to do and I do it. I have these naughty fantasies of being forced, so he is perfect. He spanks me and likes me to call him Daddy. I love it! He roughs me up and puts it down hard-core like he is overdosing on Viagra pills.
Whenever we were done drinking, talking, and flirting, we were naked. As we spent time together outside of each other's bedrooms, he recognized a good woman in me. Darryl was 75 percent what I was looking for in a man. He was goodlooking, independent, employed, and educated, and we were sexually compatible. Problem? That other 25 percent. He had a girlfriend, a fear of commitment, was as selfish as a three-year-old with no siblings, and could express his feelings only when he was drunk. We've been together seven months now, and for the last five months he's been making up excuses for why he can't leave his girlfriend yet encouraging me to hold on. "It'll be just me and you soon enough. I'm working on it. Just let me do what I have to do, but don't leave me," he kept saying. The minute I found myself believing him I knew that I was playing myself.
It was now after eleven and the bar was crowded. Everybody seemed to be there except Darryl, who had promised he'd meet me for drinks. It seemed the more often we saw each other in private, the less I saw him at Sammie's, which told me that he was probably "relating" with some other chick who is normally in there. I sent him several messages throughout the night asking him to come over, until he finally wrote back to say he wasn't on his way and didn't know what time he would be. I text-messaged him back, "Fuck you."
"Here you go, Henry." I handed over my bill and forty dollars. "Keep the change." I headed out the door. The night air was awesome, but that's every night in Florida. I was feeling all the drinks I had and desperately wanted to be cooped up under a man tonight -- my man, or at least the one I was sharing. Damn, I was angry. My vibrator would hit the spot, but not like him.
I couldn't cry to my best friend, Casey. She'd say, "As I've said a million times, fuck Darryl. Call somebody else. I don't know why you waste your time with his ass anyway, he doesn't even like black women. He's not gonna leave that Spanish chick for you. Can't you see that?"
She's right, but I would never tell her that. I was faithful to Darryl because I hoped that someday he'd choose me. I ignored the fool he was making out of me every day. I went into our relationship knowing about his girlfriend. I thought I could handle it since our relationship was purely sexual. But now that I've turned the page and fallen for him, I get physically ill when I know that they're together. However, all it takes is for him to tell me he loves me. Then my heart is tranquilized and I'm willing to wait another day.
On my drive home, Casey called. "Wow, you answered! Let me guess, Darryl is nowhere to be found?"
Of course, I w...
Most helpful customer reviews
14 of 14 people found the following review helpful.
No.... I'm sorry...
By Jason Frost
OK, only real talk allowed here. After reading `Fly on the Wall', I was on hot pins and needles waiting for `Bedroom Bully'. After the heat in that book I just knew this one was going to be the same. Unfortunately, it was not. The sexual scenes were hot but the one thing that kept throwing me off was the plotline. I know when you read fiction you must willfully suspend your disbelief in the "real world" or you won't enjoy yourself. To be honest, that is THE reason I read fiction; I want to be taken away to a fictional world. But too many things in this novel made me go, "no freaking way" and "you gotta be kidding me".
Willing suspension of disbelief is one thing, having me believe the impossible is another. Yes, there were a number of very funny scenes in this book and yes, there are a few hot sexual scenes. However, the plotline that glued them together was peppered with one "what the heck" after another. This book was good enough for me to have finished it, it wasn't so bad that I won't read anything else by Trista, but I cannot recommend it.
5 of 5 people found the following review helpful.
Great Read!
By L. Cox
Could you have sex with a fugitive let alone fall in love with one. Well enter the world of Audra Chandler, while waiting for her so called boyfriend Daryl at a local bar she hears of the infamous "turnpike killer". Not really scared of the idea of a fugitive on the lose she she heads home after finding out that Daryl will not be joining her. Upon entering her home she is approached by whom she at first assumes is Daryl until she feels the gun pressed against her side.
Dean Tyson is on the run after shoot two police officers after being pulled over and verbally assaulted by one of the officer. the shoot out never would of have had Dean been in his right stated of mind but after finding out that his 7 year old daughter was being molested by her mother's new husband all common sense and logic went out the window. After ditching his car and running around aimlessly he needs a place to rest and wrap his mind around everything that as happened in the last couple of hours. He sees Audra entering her apartment and their story begins.
This is a modern day love story and Trista did a phenomenal job of bring the heat. Audra and Deans sexually attraction basically leaps of the pages. Ms Russell tells a drama filled story of forbidden love. How far would you go for the one you love? I gave this book five stars I was captivated from beginning to end and loved every minute of it.
Favorite Character(s) Dean
Least Favorite Character(s) Dom
What did you like about the book? That is wasn't you typical love story and they both had life altering decisions to make.
What did you Not like about the book? The ending!
Reviewed by Kecia
For Readers in Motion Book Club
[...]
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
"A SEXY, SEXY READ!!"
By Blessed One
This is the first book I have read by Trista Russell and it was a pretty good read.
[NO SPOILER ALERT!! READING THIS REVIEW WILL NOT SPOIL THE BOOK FOR FUTURE READERS!!]
Trista did an excellent job at painting pictures of the characters for her readers. I was able to get a good visual of the characters as I read along. As an avid book reader, I understand that is not always easy to do. The author also does an excellent job at keeping the attention of the reader. The plot was interesting. Although it was a bit 'out there' it was not beyond belief. As I read along, I thought to myself, "this COULD happen." That made a difference for me. The sex scenes had me exhaling and saying, "oh my!" The rationale of Dean Tyson was reasonable, considering why he was on a rampage, but the author did go a bit far with the racist cop.
RECOMMENDATION: If you like sexy, erotic suspense, then GET THE BOOK!!! Russell handles her own in the 'arousing sex scene' department. This book will have you wishing a 'turnpike killer' would greet you at your door....OMG!!! Without a doubt, it was a page turner. I read the book in a day, and found myself having to harnace my eyes' desire to jump over to the next page before I actually read to it. That is a huge compliment to any author.
On the flip side, there is a reason why I am only able to give this title 4 stars. Although it was a good read, the storyline was a tad bit far-stretched. At times, I was concerned that it would become too unrealistic, but Russell managed to keep me grounded. The end of the book began to lose me a bit. The main character, Dean Tyson, began to do things that were contradictory to the picture Russell had been painting of the character for the entire book. It was a bit confusing. It was almost like Russell ran out of steam or was getting pushed by the publisher to finish the title. The end left much to be desired.
I try to make it a habit for read others' reviews on a title, to help me take a definitive stance in my own review of the title. I am happy that I read this book, and I am excited about reading more of her works. After reading the other reviews, "Fly On The Wall" looks like it needs to be my next read. Keep a look out...reviews will be coming for that title, as well.
COMMENDABLE JOB TRISTA...4 STARS FROM ME!!
[And Trista-Girl, thank you for making Dean out to be built like an "real man" because I hope most of us know, most men are not equipped with the tools of a 'perfect looking stripper'. And in most cases, big is not best. The "just right" and realistic size of Dean Tyson is just what we need...realistic and "just right!"]
"BlessedBookCritic"
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