Mister Gregory Read Online Nichole Rose

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Suspense, Virgin Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)

Two weeks. No rules.

Those were the terms my daughter's best friend offered me after she caught her ex in bed with her boss. She didn't know that I've wanted her since the day I met her. She didn't expect me to take so much more.

If she wanted to leave with her soul, she never should have offered it up to me on a silver platter. I've waited four years to make her mine. I'm not waiting any longer.

I'll protect her from the dangerous men hunting me. I'll guard her heart when my daughter finds out about us. But that curvy body is mine. I'm not letting her go.

God help anyone who thinks otherwise.


I've been crushing on my best friend's father since I met him, but I never thought I stood a chance. Until we ended up living together at his beach house, anyway. A little liquid courage was all it took to loosen my tongue.

Two weeks. No strings. No rules. Those were the terms I offered Roman.

I didn't expect him to take them, nor did I expect him to want so much more.

Now, my whole world is changing… and it might go up in flames before everything is said and done. But God help me; I love the way this man burns.

Mister Gregory is a steamy, full-length romance featuring a curvy heroine, an over-the-top alpha, and one wicked proposition. There is no cheating between FMC and MMC.

*previously published as Her Best Friend's Father serial.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



Four Years Ago

"You nervous, sweetheart?" I ask, breaking the tense silence as my seventeen-year-old daughter, Tahani McPherson, flits around her dorm room like a hummingbird, fluttering from task to task without accomplishing anything.

The furrow between her brows deepens as she furiously chews on her bottom lip, lost in thought. "No." She stops abruptly and looks up at me, her expression a mix of anxiety and determination. "Yes. What if she doesn't like me?"

"Your roommate will love you." Cool confidence rings in my tone. It's hard not to love my daughter. She's full of life and bursting with energy. She's never still for long, never content unless she's doing something. She's a fiercely loyal people person, and she goes out of her way to do things for others. Whoever her roommate is, she's gaining a friend for life.

"What if you're wrong?"

"I'm never wrong."

Tahani huffs at me, rolling her eyes. I can't help but laugh at her, amused by how much she takes after me. When we met for the first time, I was fucking terrified that she'd think I was a piece of shit for not being around for the first thirteen years of her life, even though it was out of my control. Thanks to her mother, I didn't even know she existed until the day she called to tell me that she was my daughter. But she never held it against me and never questioned my love for her.

Shit. She knows me better than anyone, sometimes better than I know myself. And I know her like the back of my hand. She's a pint-sized replica of me, attitude and all. She's just a helluva lot nicer.

I have no doubt that her new roommate will adore her.

"What's her name?" I ask, trying to distract her from her worries.

"Mila Lawson."

"Is she starting college early too?"

The fact that my daughter will be living on campus at seventeen drives me up the fucking wall. She's still so young and innocent, too fragile to be living on her own. But underneath my fear, I'm fucking proud of her for graduating early. My kid is brilliant. She could have gone to school anywhere, but she's happy close to home. And Berkeley is a damn good school.

"No, she's eighteen."

"What's her major?"

"English, I think." Tahani scrunches up her face. She's never been a fan of the subject. As far as she's concerned, speaking it is good enough. "I guess they put us together since we're both scholarship students and we're both in the College of Letters and Sciences. Her packet said she grew up in Modesto. She seemed really nice in her email."

"Then see? You're worrying about nothing." I toss a pillow at her.

She catches it, sticking her tongue out at me.

"If she's terrible or has weird fucking habits or something, you can always request a new room assignment."

Tahani looks at me and then glances around the room with big, dramatic eyes. "There's no way I'm moving to a different room. Moving all this stuff in was hard enough!"

I don't remind her that she didn't even have to carry all of her shit in. I did it for her while she fluttered around, telling me what to do. For someone so small, she's fierce and strong-willed. I'm happy as hell that she's her own person and knows her own mind. It's the only reason I'm not completely losing my fucking mind at the thought of her being surrounded by boys twenty-four hours a day for the next four years.

"I'm going to get the rest of your shit out of the truck. Stop worrying. Mila is going to love you." I drop a kiss on top of her head and then head out to grab the last couple of bags out of the truck. I think she packed everything she owns. Her relationship with her mom is…complicated.

Tahani harbors a lot of resentment over Lucinda keeping us apart for the first half of her life. I thought things would improve as time went on, but Tahani is too much like me. She's stubborn as all hell and slow to forgive. The kid can hold a grudge like no other.

It doesn't help that Lucinda is forever criticizing me in front of her. She doesn't like that I'm a cop. She doesn't like that Tahani adores me. She doesn't like me, period. I make the most of it for Tahani's sake, but frankly, her mother is a stuck-up, self-absorbed cunt. But when you're sixteen and horny, pussy is pussy. I don't regret sleeping with Lucinda because it gave me Tahani. Fuck her, though, for real.

As I jog down the stairs, I notice a group of girls lounging on the furniture in front of a massive TV. They look bored, their bodies draped across the couches, eyes flickering to different people in the room.