No Limit by L.P. Dover
Murder. Lies. Betrayal.
I deal with those things every day. My name is Jason Avery, one of the best undercover agents in the country. I have yet to fail on a mission, which is why I’ve been sent to Vegas. Countless women have been abducted, tortured, only to show up dead in the middle of the night. It’s my job to find out which sick fuck is responsible. Unfortunately, every lead sends me to a dead end; at least, until Aylee McFadden shows up at my door.
Aylee is a stubborn, headstrong FBI agent and also one of the sexiest women I’ve ever seen with a gun. In joining me, it gives us the leverage we need to get on the inside. She fights me at every turn, but soon realizes there’s more to me than tattoos and a dirty mouth. I can’t get enough of her. Now that we’re in the game, we’re one step closer to solving the crime. However, gambling with money isn’t what the big boys want. They want the one thing I’m not willing to give.
It’s a no limit game, and if I back down I lose everything. I will lose her.
STANDALONE NOVEL
I’d like to dedicate this book to my dad, Jerry Moore. Out of everyone in my family, he has been one of my biggest supporters. No Limit wouldn’t have been written without his help. A huge thank you goes out to him and I hope he knows how much I love him.
“You found me.”
If there was ever a moment when I needed to keep my wits about me, it was now. But how could I do that when I wanted nothing more than to snap the man’s neck in front of me; to make him bleed like he did the families he murdered.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?” I spat through clenched teeth. His file flashed through my mind, the pictures of the carnage he left behind . . . those children. My blood boiled.
He was poised, ready to fight to the death by the look in his eyes. “I guess it was only a matter of time.”
His name was Michael Bruxton, a computer analyst with skills matching my own. But he had a sick hobby that cost the lives of three families over the past two weeks. I spent day and night searching for him, and now I found the bastard.
We circled each other in the rundown, abandoned warehouse he’d holed up in while on the run. On the floor were tokens he stole from his victims. The baby doll with a bright pink dress caught my attention first. My whole body shook with rage. “How could you do it, you sick fuck?”
His eyes sparkled. “It’s like putting paint to canvas.” He looked down at the things he collected and smiled. “Their pleas for help were music to my ears.”
Flashes of the children laying in their own blood, their lives taken from them at such a young age plagued my mind. They were innocent, along with their parents who only wanted to protect them. A man like him deserved to die a slow, painful death . . . and I was going to make sure that happened.
Lunging for him, we went down to the dirty floor, his head slamming against the concrete. He tried to punch me and missed. I couldn’t hear anything other than the blood rushing through my veins. Pinning him with my weight, I punched him over and over, the feel of his bones crunching beneath my fist. I didn’t know the families who were killed, but I fought for them, bringing their murderer to justice.
The sick fuck spit to clear his throat, blood dribbling down his cheek, and laughed. “I love it when they fight back.” He pushed his arousal into me and groaned.