FREE EXCERPT OF “Yakuza Book Boyfriend”

Welcome to the Book Boyfriend Dating Agency!

In a world where reality often fails to live up to the fantasies we find between the pages of our favorite books, one company dared to ask: What if you could actually meet your dream book boyfriend?

Enter the Book Boyfriend Dating Agency, the brainchild of a group of hopeless romantics and tech geniuses who believed that everyone deserves a chance to live out their literary fantasies. With cutting-edge technology and a vast database of eligible bachelors, the agency promises to match you with the book boyfriend of your dreams.

Imagine sipping coffee with Mr. Darcy, exploring the streets of Paris with a charming French aristocrat, or even spending an evening with a dangerous, yet alluring mobster. At the Book Boyfriend Dating Agency, the possibilities are endless.

But there’s a catch… The line between fiction and reality can blur when you least expect it.

So, if you’re ready to take a chance on love and embark on an adventure straight out of the pages of your favorite romance, look no further than the Book Boyfriend Dating Agency. Your dream date awaits.

Get ready to swoon, laugh, and maybe even find your own happily ever after. The Book Boyfriend Dating Agency is open for business, and your story is about to begin…

* * *

I wanted to live out my fantasies to the fullest. Spend the night with my favorite kind of BBF then return to my ordinary life. But Kenji “The Katana” Watanabe says I’m the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. And once a Yakuza has claimed you, there’s no turning back…

* * *

NIA

It’s always funny when you look back on a defining moment that slashes your reality into a before and after. The few minutes or even seconds that change your life forever.

* * *

“Come on, Nia!” my friend Ana says loudly. “You turned thirty, not fifty. Let’s go have fun! It’s still early.”

The woman is a beautiful, curvy black queen. She’s also loud, opinionated, and sassy as fuck. And right now, what Mrs. Maksimov wants is to drag me to her husband’s club, Samovar. The bar-lounge that’s the hot spot in our mid-sized Central California coastal town, but all I can picture is people, loud noises and… people. Ugh.

Today’s my thirtieth birthday and my girls took me out to dinner. Maty, my best friend since middle school. Who’s just as gorgeous and luscious as Ana. But instead of a classy, sexy femme fatale style, hers is more “Princess Leia buns” and fun, colorful outfits. Natasha, Ana’s colleague, friend, and now sister-in-law is another bombshell who’s all tits and ass, with caramel eyes from her Russian dad and big, curly hair from her African-American mom. We’re all dressed in short, tight, sexy numbers, hair and make-up done, and have been getting male attention the whole night.

I had a lot of fun. We chatted, laughed our asses off, ate way too much delicious food. And now my bed is calling!

“I’m good, Ana. Dinner was great. Thank you, ladies. But I’m wiped.”

She scrunches her gorgeous face and starts boo-ing me. Natasha and Maty giggle like the lunatics they are.

“Come on, girl. Just one drink,” Maty chimes in.

Ugh, I could never say no to this girl. I let out a loud sigh, rolling my eyes.

“One drink, then I’m going home.”

“Yaaass!” Ana shouts again, making me join in the chorus of laughter.

If I’d known then how that night would turn out, how much it would affect my life, I wonder if I would have gone…

* * *

Yep, Samovar is just as loud and crowded as I thought. But the place is beautiful. Dimly lit, elegantly decorated, and the music selection is awesome. We start dancing to 90s and 2000s hip-hop and rb beats as soon as we step through the door. Fine, I’m having a good time. It’s my birthday and I’m partying with my girls. I guess I can handle being tired in the morning and brushing shoulders with a few obnoxious party-goers. The big 3-0 only hits once, right?

After a good half-hour of shaking what our mamas gave us on the dance-floor and laughing our heads off, we make our way to the back of the club where Ana’s husband and his friends are seated in the VIP section. And I have to admit, I’m a bit apprehensive. I’ve heard a lot about the infamous Dmitry Maksimov. The rumor mill says the man is a bona-fide gangster boss. Bratva to be more specific. But both Ana and Nat seem to have a great relationship with him, so I guess I’ll just have to see for myself.

As we approach this quieter area of the lounge, I take in the small group of men sitting there, and sweet baby Jesus, I must have died and gone to heaven. Because these guys are the very definition of foine! They stand, towering over us, even in our heels. And two of them saunter over to come claim their women.

Ana melts into the embrace of the brown-haired giant who looks at her like she’s the sun that brightens his sky.

A scary-looking, silver-eyed hunk curls Nat into his side. And it’s like she molds into his muscular body.

Good God!

I turn to Maty, who smirks at me. She did tell me they were hot, but I thought she meant normal, every day guys hot. Not Adonises descended from Mount Olympus!

The two last men are just as drool-worthy. One is dark-blond, with tattoos peeking from the collar of his black button-down. And by the way he and my girl stare at each other, I’m pretty sure this massive hottie is Maty’s boss and years-long crush, Alessio DeLuca…

But the last man? This one looks like he was stripped straight out of my most perfect, most intimate fantasies. He’s fucking tall as a tree, big, broad, and deliciously sexy. His face is all sharp angles and cut lines. His dark gaze, hypnotic. With almond-shaped eyes that seem to see straight into my soul. His full lips are a deep shade of pink. I catch myself wondering how the stubble on his chin would feel on my skin, and my face grows hot at the wild thought. I frantically lower my gaze, my eyes falling on his large, manly hands. The backs of which are covered with swirly ink. And another crazy image flashes through my mind. My own fingers peeling off the layers of his impeccably cut suit and white button-down shirt to reveal the ink etched all over his golden skin. A shiver runs through my entire body. What in the fuck?!

It’s like I’m paralyzed, frozen in place. Unable to make a single move. Caught in the web of his heavy-lidded, burning stare. He takes a step forward and wraps a warm palm around my shaking fingers. His fiery gaze never leaving mine. We’re so close that I can feel the heat from his large body through the layers of our clothes. His scent enveloping me. Woodsy notes and undertones of manly musk. My insides melt like butter on a hot summer day. My heart beats erratically and my mouth goes dry. Pussy pulsating under the devouring stare of this stranger. But he doesn’t feel like a stranger. He feels like… mine. I draw in a shaky breath, attempting to calm down and take stock of my emotions. But all I feel is rightness. Our touch, our proximity. The way he instantly came to me and grabbed a hold of my hand. It’s fucking crazy and absolutely perfect.

* * *

KENJI

“I’m out,” I grunt, pushing from my spot on the velvet couch.

“Come on, man. At least finish your drink,” Dmitry drawls, turning his intense gaze my way. “Don’t leave me alone with these fuckers.” He nods towards our friends.

Alessio DeLuca, the Italian mafia capo, and Jacques ‘Jack Frost’ Corsi, former green beret and the most lethal man you’ll ever meet. If you don’t count me…

I can’t hold back a twitch of my lips. “You just want me here so you can show off when your woman arrives.”

Dmitry’s scary face cracks into a wide grin. Eyes fucking twinkling and shit. How the mighty have fucking fallen.

I shake my head. “Asshole.”

He chuckles.

“What’s wrong, brother? Plenty of sweet things to go around here,” Frost teases me.

“Yeah, and we all know what they want. Money, gifts, connections. I’m fucking tired of all that shit, man.”

“The fuck else you want?” Alessio asks me, eyebrows raised. “A goddamn fairytale like these two motherfuckers?” He tilts his head in Maksimov’s and Frost’s direction. “You think you’re also gonna get your perfect woman handed to you on a fucking golden platter?”

My smirk grows.

Dmitry chuckles, raising his big hands, open-palmed. “Hey, don’t hate, brother.” He turns back to me, adding with a mocking smirk, “maybe you should sign up for Maty’s dating thing.”

Alessio grumbles, sending Mitya a death glare that only makes the psycho laugh harder.

“What? It’s working. She’s matching chicks with their fantasy dudes. Maybe Ken is someone’s wet dream.”

Asshole is having a field day with this shit.

“Fuck you,” I repeat, giving him the finger with both of my hands.

We all fall out, except Alessio. He’s super protective of that woman and seems to hate the idea of her meeting dudes to find them the right women.

“I think Les should sign up for that shit,” I poke him, and it’s my turn to be the target of his dagger eyes.

I don’t get why he doesn’t just claim the girl. She’s smart, funny, hot. Part of our world. And I’ve seen them together. She’s definitely into him. Stubborn ass.

I change the subject before smoke starts coming out of Alessio’s ears. “Just wanna get off, man. Not looking to sign NDAs, get a psych eval, fucking lab work, and all the shit Maty asks for.”

Les relaxes a bit. “Then you’re on your own, brother. She’s dead serious about all that stuff.”

“How the fuck did this dating agency thing come about, anyway?” Frost asks in his deep rumble.

“Not even sure, man,” Les replies. “Chicks are fucking crazy.” We all raise our glasses to a chorus of ‘amen to that’. “Like, one minute she was pitching me a business idea, the next she starts talking about book boyfriends.” He shakes his head.

“Book what?” I ask, confused.

Frost chuckles. “That’s what women call the heroes in those smutty books read.”

My eyebrows climb up on my forehead. The fuck?

“Yeah, Ana reads that shit, too. You wouldn’t believe how nasty those stories can get. Good shit.” He wags his eyebrows and we all crack up.

When his chuckle dies down, Frost adds, “and get this, the ones about mobsters sell like dope at a frat party.”

“shit, we in the wrong business,” I mutter, and we all laugh again.

* * *

Our banter is interrupted by the small group of women walking toward our table. Four beautiful ladies smiling and chatting animatedly. We stand to greet them. Dmitry and Frost each going to take their wives in their arms, leaving Les and me to face the last two girls. I recognize three of them, but my mind instantly fixates on the fourth one. She’s fucking magnificent. All full curves, deep brown skin and big chocolate eyes. Her red-painted lips are parted. And she’s staring at me like a fucking deer caught in headlights. Her rapid breathing making her round tits rise and fall under the tiny dress that molds to her delicious body like a second skin. Without even consciously telling my body to do so, I take a step forward and grab her hand, pulling her close.

* * *

“I’m Kenji,” I hear myself rumble, barely recognizing the low, guttural timber of my voice. Am I fucking growling?

“Nia,” she responds. Her voice is a caress all over my body. A maddening mix of soft and throaty. The deep chocolate pools of er eyes stare back into mine with mirrored fascination. I take in her beautiful features. The long lashes, discreet make-up, the loose curls of her dark hair falling to her round shoulders. She’s so fucking beautiful, she makes my chest hurt.

“You wanna get out of here?” The words escape my lips before I even fully think through my actions. Fuck, what is this woman doing to me? I’m Kenji ‘The Katana’ Watanabe. My life is about order and discipline. Not fucking tripping over my feet for a chick I just met. But this think between us. It’s fucking all-consuming, irresistible. The most powerful emotion I’ve ever felt.

Nia nods and her eyes widen like she didn’t mean to do that shit. Like her body is reacting to mine in a way she’s not in control of. I know exactly how you feel, baby girl.

“Let’s go,” I let out in a commanding tone.

Then I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her into my side, finally feeling her soft curves melt into my hard muscles. Fuck, she feels good. My dick is hard as a rock. My heartbeat out of control. I feel like I’m gonna explode if I don’t get my hands under Nia’s dress very soon.

“We’re out,” I announce to the rest of the group, barely meeting my friends’ eyes. The other women look at Nia with wide-eyed expressions. My brothers are smirking knowingly. These assholes all fell deep and hard for their women at first glance, and I’ve always teased them about it. Now look who’s fucking talking.

“You sure, babe?” Mitya’s woman asks my girl.

Nia simply nods, giving her friends a reassuring smile. Then she breathes, “I’ll call you later.”

As simple as that. Because she knows. We both fucking know. The way she feels against my body, how she looks, the smell of her. The way our bodies instantly feel connected by a fucking live wire. We’re going home together. Or wherever is the closest place I can get her naked and under me.

* * *

NIA

What are you doing, Nia Faye?A panicked voice yells in my head. But everything else in me is sure. My gut, my body, my fucking heart. I need to be alone with this man. Need to stare into his beautiful eyes, get naked with him, feel him all over me, around me, inside me. I saw the looks on my girls’ faces. They were shocked by my move. But I know them. If this man meant any danger to me, they would have tackled me right then and there rather than let me leave with him. Not that he’s not dangerous. Kenji, whatever his last name is, exudes danger. He’s of the same world as Dmitry, Frost and Alessio. A dark, intriguing world. One I know little about in my simple, normal life. With his hypnotic eyes and intense presence, this man had me hooked with a single gaze. Ready to burn for him like a moth to a flame.

The crowd of the club parts for his imposing figure and I follow on jellied legs. Each step getting us closer to finally being able to touch each other freely. Taste one another. Consume this mad thing brewing between us. By the time we make it to the door, Kenji’s long strides have me scurrying at his side. His hold on my body is firm. Long fingers curled over my hip, keeping me plastered to his powerful body. I feel the strain of his muscles under his expensive suit. My head light with the cloud of his scent. Breaths short from our proximity. I feel like I’m about to combust. And he hasn’t even actually touched me yet. This is madness. We step into the night and the cooler air feels good on my burning skin. I take a deep inhale and raise my gaze to the side of his face. Under the street lights his features appear even more striking. Cut cheekbones, midnight eyes and a sinful mouth I can’t wait to taste.

“Where are we going?” I blurt out, my brain seeming to regain some function.

Kenji lowers his half-mast gaze to meet mine.

“My place.”

The feral rasp of his voice sends a shiver down my spine. And I can only nod. Again. Like some stupid rag-doll. I’ve never felt anything like this. Never acted this way. But this man. This dark, sexy giant stoke a fire inside me like no other.

He hands a ticket to the valet, never letting go of my body. Jaw clenched, a muscle jumping in his carved cheek, and within minutes a sleek black sports car is brought to the curve. Kenji gets the door for me then walks around the hood. The interior is all dark leather and gleaming wood. I put on my seatbelt with trembling hands, inhaling the scent of him inside the small, closed space. The engine purrs and we take off. Gliding through the quiet streets. I’m shaking with anticipation, my heart beating fast, my thighs clenching. We both keep our eyes on the road ahead of us, not exchanging a word or a touch. As if what we’re feeling is too much, too big, and needs a much larger outlet both in time and space. As if we knew that a single glance, a simple brush of our skins will set us both ablaze.

The streets blur through the windows. Kenji’s powerful car swallowing the asphalt. Streetlights flashing through the night.

Time seems to stretch endlessly, like we’re stuck in a loop. Like we’re never getting out of this car. Because this can’t be real. What I’m feeling. How beautiful this man is. The way he looked at me. Grabbed a hold of me. Swept me off my feet.

The minutes on the dashboard’s digital clock stretch to infinity. And finally, after what feels like hours, although I rationally know it was only minutes, we arrive in front of a commercial-looking building. Kenji opens the underground garage gate with a small remote and smoothly slides inside. He parks with swift, efficient movements then climbs out to get my door. He grabs my hand again, holding me close to his body. The contact is just as electrifying as the first time. Our footsteps resonate on the cemented floor, the only sounds in the vast, quiet space. I vaguely notice the lines of luxury cars as we walk towards two men who appear to stand guard by the parking elevator. Kenji sternly nods at them, jaw still ticking. They respond with a bow of deference before one of them presses the elevator’s call button. The heavy metal doors barely close behind us that my fantasy man finally turns his burning eyes to me. This time both his big hands wrap at my waist, pressing me to the back of the cabin. He looms over me, all big, tall and panty-droppingly terrifying.

Bending low enough that his nose brushes mine, he growls, “I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman in my life. You’re fucking perfect, baby. I’ve never felt anything like this. Not even fucking close. I’m gonna fucking worship you until the day I die. But first, I need to fuck you.”

Ooooh, shit!!

* * *

KENJI

Nia’s breath catches at my words and I almost smile. Almost. In another life, at another time I would find it amusing. The way her eyes widen, how her pink tongue pokes out to wet her full lips. Then her small, white teeth biting into the bottom one. I’d be entertained by the thought of how much my words, my closeness affect her. But not here, not now. Not when I’m reduced to nothing but a snarling beast by this woman. It’s like she’s awakened something wild and primal inside me. A savage beast that can only be satisfied once I’m buried deep inside of her. I want to taste her, make her moan and cry out my moan, fucking wreck her. Make her come over, and over, and over. Till her voice is raspy. Her body limp. Her gaze hazed over. I need to taste her sweet pussy juices, feel the walls of her cunt clamp on my dick, spill my cum into her. I need to fucking breed her raw with my seed. My entire being pulsates with the need to hear my name fall from her lips. Whispered, moaned, begging, demanding more, crying out until she’s all fucking mine.