Bottle Service Boys Series by Lilly Atlas – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Bottle Service Boys Series by Lilly Atlas – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Thu, 25 Dec 2025 22:07:47 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Bottle Service Boys Series by Lilly Atlas – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Heavy Pour (Bottle Service Boys #2) Read Online Lilly Atlas http://www.books2020.com/heavy-pour-bottle-service-boys-2-read-online-lilly-atlas Thu, 25 Dec 2025 22:07:47 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/heavy-pour-bottle-service-boys-2-read-online-lilly-atlas Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: Lilly Atlas Series: Bottle Service Boys Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)

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Alex
I thought the hardest part of balancing work, grad school, family issues, and a boyfriend would be learning to squash the inner voice telling me I wasn’t enough and didn’t deserve a man like Ryder. I was wrong.

What was supposed to be a temporary detour, Ryder stepping in to run his father’s billion-dollar empire, has twisted into months of fourteen-hour days, cancelled dates, and broken plans. Ryder doesn’t want this life. The man I love is drowning under the crushing weight of a legacy he never asked for. But knowing doesn’t make the loneliness hurt any less.

I crave what we had before Ryder gave in to his family’s demands, the man who had time to kiss me breathless on the kitchen counter and spend entire nights tangled between the sheets. Most days, I feel helpless to do anything more than love Ryder through text messages and quick, passing moments. We both know it’s not enough, but how do you fight for a man who isn’t free to fight for himself?

Ryder
I will burn the world down before I lose Alex, but the empire demanding my attention is slowly leeching the life from me, and I can feel him slipping through my fingers. Some days, it feels like challenges are bombarding us from all angles, and I don’t know how to smack them down. Every time we clear one hurdle, another pops up in its place. Whether we’re battling family problems, complicated social dynamics, or our internal demons, I’m determined to keep us together and thriving.

All I hope is that it’s not too late to prove to Alex that he is the one thing I can’t live without.

Sexy, emotional, and devastatingly intimate, Heavy Pour delivers the explosive conclusion to Alex and Ryder’s love story—where passion is fierce, the stakes are high, and walking away is never an option

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

CHAPTER ONE

ALEX

I despised wearing a suit. I only owned one, a Men’s Warehouse clearance purchase I’d acquired for college interviews once upon a time. It made my neck itch, my shoulders couldn’t stretch, and the damn tie might as well have been strangling me, and not in a sexy way. I’d never understood how Ryder wore one of these monstrosities to work all day, every day. I’d even take my Top Shelf uniform over this monkey suit, and that consisted of nothing more than booty shorts and a loose-fitting bowtie.

But I’d worn the suit and sat my ass in the snooty Michelin Star restaurant with a smile on my face because it turned out I’d do damn near anything for my boyfriend. We were celebrating tonight, celebrating the completion of another trimester of my master’s program in robotics engineering. Dining at an upscale restaurant with a three-month waiting list for anyone who wasn’t my boyfriend was Ryder’s idea. Pizza, wings, and beer in his penthouse would have been fine by me, but he’d insisted we needed to do something special to celebrate. Two trimesters down, four to go. Now that the summer session ended, I had a few weeks to decompress before fall classes began.

As I’d slogged through project after project, the promise of these three weeks saw me through the tedium and stress. The only thing I wanted during my time off was Ryder. I wanted him on his hands and knees, on his back, in the shower, and on his kitchen counter, where we liked to sit and eat ice cream late at night, in nothing but our boxers, with sated smiles.

Well, we had done that in the beginning when I actually saw my boyfriend.

My dream staycation wasn’t kicking off on a good note, considering I’d been sitting in the restaurant nursing a glass of Ryder’s favorite cabernet for the past forty-five minutes. I couldn’t stand wine, but Ryder loved it, and I loved the pleased smile he got when he took the first sip of an expensive wine that tasted exactly like the cheap bottles to me. So I’d ordered what he loved, and I happily drank it while I waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

As forty-five minutes became an hour and the sly side-eye from the nosy waitstaff turned into blatant stares and whispered speculation, I tried not to get angry. I shouldn’t get angry. Ryder didn’t want this any more than I did. He didn’t want to be working fourteen-hour days running his father’s multi-billion-dollar empire, the empire he’d worked to distance himself from. He didn’t want the urgent middle-of-the-night overseas phone calls and constant crisis management. He didn’t want to spend his days pandering to the inflated egos of the world’s unimaginably wealthy businessmen. It was the role he’d been groomed for his entire life, but never wanted. When he’d stepped in to take over for his father after a stroke left the man unable to speak, walk, or care for himself in any functional capacity, we’d expected Ryder’s life plan to be diverted for a few weeks. When those weeks turned into a month, and he formally withdrew from the first trimester of the Master of Education program he’d been so excited about, my heart took a nosedive. As that month became three and now almost four, I started to fear that this was our new reality.

And I didn’t know what to do about it.

Ryder wasn’t happy. He woke at four every morning and returned home in the late evening, drained, frustrated, and a shell of the snarky, fun-loving man I’d hated for years before falling for. We weren’t in a good place, though we weren’t in a bad place either. We didn’t fight, scream, or make each other miserable. We just weren’t anywhere. With Ryder working over a hundred hours each week, my four shifts a week at Top Shelf, classes during the day, and family obligations, we barely saw each other. Our relationship existed in a suspended state, hoping for a moment together. I couldn’t even remember the last time we’d had sex, and I missed it.

I missed him.

I wasn’t too proud to admit I’d been excited as hell for tonight, despite having to wear a suit and eat a meal I’d still be hungry after.

“Excuse me, sir?”

I peered up into the curious face of our—my—server. “Yes?”

“Would you like us to place a call to the other member of your party?” he asked as though my cell phone wasn’t lying face up on the table next to my mostly empty wineglass.

I’d called, I’d texted, and I’d used my nonexistent telepathic powers to contact him across the ether—no reply from any of those communication methods.

“No, thank you.” I couldn’t muster a grin, even a fake one. “I’ve already heard from my boyfriend, and unfortunately, he’s delayed indefinitely at work.” The lie had my cheeks heating. I picked up my wineglass and drained the remaining contents. “I’ll close out my tab, and I apologize for keeping the table occupied for so long.”

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Advertisement Shaken and Stirred (Bottle Service Boys #1) Read Online Lilly Atlas http://www.books2020.com/shaken-and-stirred-bottle-service-boys-1-read-online-lilly-atlas Tue, 05 Aug 2025 19:54:23 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/shaken-and-stirred-bottle-service-boys-1-read-online-lilly-atlas Genre: M-M Romance Authors: Lilly Atlas Series: Bottle Service Boys Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)

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From New York Times bestselling author Kristen Proby comes Where We Bloom, an
Age Gap, Billionaire, Best Friend’s Brother romance set in Bitterroot Valley!

Connor

After an explosive night together, I thought I’d never see the gorgeous bookstore owner again.
We didn’t exchange names and numbers, and when I left her asleep the following morning, I didn’t intend to pursue her. I don’t have time for relationships nor entanglements.

I’m the CEO of Gallagher Hotels, and my life is spent traveling around the world, focusing on my business, not a small town in Montana. Even if my thoughts keep returning to the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.

It turns out, my mystery woman, Billie, is my sister’s best friend, and she’s suddenly everywhere I turn. She’s become my obsession and all I think about. She’s become the only thing that means more to me than running my empire. And I’m determined to have her.

Billie

Owning a bookstore in my hometown of Bitterroot Valley has been my lifelong dream since I was a little girl. The only thing that brings me more joy is my love of thrift stores and coffee.

And, maybe, the sexy Irishman with intense emerald-colored eyes that take my breath away. His charming accent, how he looks at me, and the way he spoils me with lavish gifts are just the icing on the cake. I’ve tried to stay away from him, but my resolve is slipping. Nothing is better than being in Connor’s arms and feeling like I’m the most important woman in his world. But being with a high-profile billionaire comes with a price. Can we withstand the storm headed our way, or are we destined to fall apart like delicate blooms in the wind?

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

PROLOGUE

ALEX

Nothing sucked more than being the only underprivileged kid in an elite summer program full of spoiled, high-society rich boys who spent more on a haircut than my mom made in a month.

Nothing.

Unless, of course, everyone in the auditorium knew you were the one there thanks to a scholarship fund made possible by the generous donations of their parents, who not only paid the insane fees for them to attend but for my sorry self as well.

It seemed everyone knew I was the only kid who wouldn’t be there if it weren’t for their rich mommy and daddy’s need for a hefty tax write-off.

Yeah, that sucked more.

I could have turned down the scholarship, told the school and its wealthy donors where to stick their money, and turned my back on the prestigious NexGen Innovators Summer Program. I could have spent this summer after my junior year like I had the previous five before it—working the entrance kiosk at the Calum River State Park, handing out day passes to sunburned families and eager hikers.

The job was boring as hell, mind-numbing, really, but it gave me plenty of time to read in the booth between park visitors. So, I could have done that again, and I almost did. We sure as hell needed the money, but I’d swallowed my pride and accepted the slot at NGI along with the full summer scholarship—$20,000. Every student here had paid $20,000 for six weeks of college-level engineering and robotics instruction. I’d swallowed my pride and done the smart thing, even if it meant I’d be working a night job to make up for it. In the fall, when I started applying to colleges, I needed NGI on my application to secure a spot in a robotics engineering program. This was the final missing puzzle piece to ensure I got the future I wanted.

One that didn’t resemble my childhood.

No shitty rented house with broken appliances and a landlord who never answered his phone. No fifteen-year-old car that ran less than half the time. No stack of unpaid bills or a host of unheard voicemails from debt collectors.

I refused to live my adult life the same way I’d spent my childhood, and that meant I had to secure a decent-paying, stable job with growth potential. Given that I was already obsessed with technology and robotics and excelled in math, robotic engineering was a perfect fit.

So, there I was, surrounded by nepo babies in their pressed designer khaki pants and starched polo shirts, wearing my wrinkled donation bin’s finest. That’s right, I didn’t even wait for this fit to make it to the thrift store. I looted them right out of the bin.

I was classy like that.

“In five minutes, we are going to break off into our lab groups,” the program director said from the stage. He was an average-height man, probably in his fifties, with an awful graying combover and the beginnings of a gut testing the strength of his shirt’s buttons. He introduced himself as Dr. Doaks, an MIT professor who’d been leading this program for years.

“Your lab groups will become your robotics family for the next six weeks. The groups are labeled A through E for now.” He smirked, making the laugh lines around his eyes deepen. “Choosing new names once you congregate in your laboratory has become a tradition in the program. Anyway, you can find your assigned group in the folders you received when you checked in, along with your schedule. Lunch is daily from noon to one o’clock for all groups. Feel free to leave the campus to eat if you’d like. No one will check on or monitor your attendance. This is a taste of what it’s like to be in college. You are responsible for yourself. Each of you is paying a lot to be here, so we assume that means you want to learn from us.”

Someone snorted behind us. “Not every one of us,” some guy muttered. A chorus of whispered chuckles followed the statement before someone kicked my chair, nearly sending me to the floor. I grabbed the armrests to keep from flying out of my seat.

“Dude, what the hell?” the guy next to me—a real serious type with a bowtie and polished loafers—grumbled as he shifted farther away in his seat.

Great, I was already making friends. More laughter came from the row above. Fuck that shit. These pricks would learn fast that I might be poor, but I wasn’t anyone’s doormat. I whipped around and glared at the row behind me.

“What are you staring at, freeloader?” A guy with perfect teeth and a damn chin dimple leaned forward with a sneer. His dark hair didn’t move at all as his friend, a redheaded girl with too much makeup, slapped his arm.

“Kirk.” She giggled as she whacked him again. “Be nice.”

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