Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Fri, 10 Aug 2018 13:57:33 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0.1 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Breathless Read online Madison Faye (Winchester Academy #6) http://www.books2020.com/breathless-6-read-online-madison-faye Fri, 10 Aug 2018 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/breathless-6-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Series: Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
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Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 48306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Breathless (Winchester Academy #6)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
Book Information:
The first kiss I stole. The second, he claimed. This is forbidden. This is taboo. And this is a scandal that could drown us both. My name is Waverly Owens, and I’m in love with my high school swim coach. I’ve got a crush. He’s gorgeous and brooding, with arms that make my knees week, abs that make me forget how to breath, and good lord does he fill out a swimsuit in all the right ways. The only problem? He’s ten years older, my mother is his boss, and, oh right, he’s my high school swim coach. Yeah. Camden Kirby is what you might call “x-rated” hot. He’s too gorgeous—certainly too gorgeous to be coaching girls high school swimming. Crushing on my coach is one thing. But when I end up creating a fake dating app profile specifically to, well, secretly seduce him? Well, now we’re playing in the deep end. There’s too much at stake for us to be this reckless, but once we’ve crossed that line, there’s no swimming back, no matter how wrong this is. I’ve got homework and college apps, he’s got demons, and scars. I’m in over my head, but I want to drown in him. I want to lose myself in him. This is a story love, lust, and diving in head-first. …You better take a deep breath. Each of the Winchester Academy books are completely standalone stories, with no cliffhangers. As with all my books, this one is safe, with no cheating, and a HEA guaranteed.
Books in Series:	Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
Books by Author:	Madison Faye Books

1

Waverly

“Okay, that shit is X-fucking-rated, I swear.”

Sasha sucks on her teeth and shakes her head, her eyes looking over my shoulder as she bends over all the way to her toe. I’m facing her in the same pose—legs spread, back arched, and my hands sliding down my ankles to hold my feet—but I ease off to turn and follow her gaze.

And instantly, hot, burning heat flashes over my face and down my chest under my suit. I quickly turn back, swallowing thickly as I slide back into the stretch. But I know damn well what I just saw, just like I know I’m going to be thinking about it—no, obsessing over it—for the rest of the day. And week. And probably months.

Like I always do about him.

But this time, instead of turning around to gawk and stare and, well, lust like I typically do when it comes to Camden Kirby, I force myself back into the stretch, my typically sore muscles aching in preparation for the coming practice. Sasha giggles.

“Oh, come on. You know, never having been laid doesn’t have to mean prude. You can look, you know.”

I roll my eyes in an attempt to wave her off, but she’s not having it.

“No, Waverly, just look at him!”

“I know what he looks like!” I say with a forced laugh that I hope to God covers that burning heat on my face.

“Whatever.”

My friend sighs and shakes her head at me before glancing over at Brynn, who’s also stretching.

“Back me up here.”

Brynn smiles a shy smile, shrugging. “I dunno. I mean, yeah, he’s hot.”

Hot does not even BEGIN to cover it. In fact, I’m not entirely sure there are the right words in the English language to describe how gorgeous the man Sasha is ogling is.

“My God, Waverly, will you just look?”

I know I shouldn’t. I know nothing good can from looking at him—and God forbid he sees me looking at him, today of all days. In fact, after last night, I don’t even know how the fuck I’m even at practice right now.

“Sasha—”

“Oh helll-lo!”

She grins, her eyes firmly over my shoulder. And just like that, I cave. I turn, and there he is.

Okay, that shit is X-fucking-rated.

I want to open my mouth to say something—maybe to tell Sasha to quit being weird and concentrate on warming up or something. But then, I’m just as guilty as she is. At least, my eyes sure as hell are. I feel the heat spread over my face as I watch him slide from the pool—muscles clenching and glistening as he grips the handrails to the ladder. His abs ripple like freaking liquid steel, and the huge tattoo covering the massive scars on his back rolls with his strength as he climbs out. Water streams down his body, running in rivulets over his muscles, his arms flexing as he raises them to push his hair back from his face.

I mean seriously. It’s seriously like a live-action, pool version of Magic Mike, and every single girl at practice knows it.

He turns, shoving his fingers from one hand through his hair, and when my eyes slide back down his body, my face instantly burns intensely, along with the fluttery feeling of the forbidden that teases through my core. His hand slides down his abs, his finger tugging at the waist of his black, skin-tight swimmer’s shorts—not board shorts or anything baggy like guys my age might wear to the beach or something. No, he looks like a freaking pinnacle athlete—all sleek, toned, gorgeous, muscled, and…

I swallow thickly my face tingling with heat.

“I mean that bulge!”

I giggle at Sasha, but it’s just to cover my own lusty looks as I turn back.

“Okay, stop it,” I chide without any real feeling behind it. “We need to warm up.”

Except my words fall flat as I turn and just keep staring right alongside Sasha and Brynn. At him.

“Him,” by the way, is Camden Kirby, our swim coach at Winchester Academy. Our crazy-hot, impossibly perfect, completely captivating, ten-years-my-senior-and-totally-off-limits swim coach, at that.

“If Jason Momoa, Tom Hardy, and Camden Kirby were in a room with me, and I could only fuck two of them,” Sasha says with a hungry smile. “I would fuck Coach Kirby, twice.”

Brynn giggles and I roll my eyes, my cheeks burning.

“Okay, stop it.”

I’m trying to laugh alongside them, because I know they’re just having fun. But, it’s a little hard to “just have fun” or “just pretend” when it comes to Coach Kirby.

Not after last night.

Sasha gives me a look as she eases off her stretch and tucks one leg under and back to stretch her hamstrings. She’s wearing a new blue and silver one-piece suit that looks fantastic on her, and I’m about to try and change the subject by trying to get her to fess up where she bought it, but she bulldozes right on ahead.

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Advertisement Barely Read online Madison Faye (Winchester Academy #7) http://www.books2020.com/barely-7-read-online-madison-faye Fri, 10 Aug 2018 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/barely-7-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Series: Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
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Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 44127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Barely (Winchester Academy #7)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
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Off limits, forbidden, twenty years my junior… And in way over her head. She needs saving. I need to keep away. But one taste of those sweet, innocent lips, and I’ll fight like hell to keep her safe. I had no business looking at her like that. No business wanting her, craving her—the caveman in me roaring to claim and take. Of course, that was before I realized who the girl in the mask grinding on my lap was. Her name is Brynn Henley. She’s eighteen—barely—and one of my students at the private high school where I’m Principal. She’s out-of-bounds, but then, she’s also out of time and out of choices. Some bad, bad people want her for themselves. They want to take her from me, and hurt her, all to settle a debt to the mob her father owes. …They’re going to have to come through me first. I have no business with a girl like her. Too innocent, too untouched, too barely legal. But I’ve had a taste, and now, I’ll have the rest. This forbidden heat could engulf and burn us both. But the mob made a mistake. They came after what’s mine. …And nothing is going to take her away from me.
Books in Series:	Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
Books by Author:	Madison Faye Books

1

Colton

She looks like heaven and moves like sin. Soft, sultry music pulses like a lover’s touch over the club’s sound system, and under the sensual blue and pink lights, and through a fog of fake smoke, her hips sway as her hands slide up to grip the pole tightly.

And there’s something about her that has all of my attention.

Yes, you could assume it’s that she’s wearing next to nothing—just this sky-blue, lacy, basically see-through bra and thong panties that hug every single part of her perfectly sculpted body like they were painted on. You could say it’s that she’s grinding her hips and sliding her hands over her body in a way that’s designed to get a guy like me hard.

But it’s… it’s hard to explain, but it’s more than that.

For one, she’s no pro, that’s pretty easy to see. In fact, I’d almost say she looks nervous, even though there’s not really a ton of people in here tonight, and even though she’s wearing a black masquerade mask that totally obscures who she is. Her moves aren’t practiced, either. It’s like she just got done watching a how-to video of “dancing sexy,” and this is her first time trying to remember how to do it.

Secondly, strip clubs are not my scene. Not by a fucking mile. Maybe it’s that I just see through the bullshit that they are? There are guys who walk into a strip club and swallow that fantasy pill whole. The girl is “totally into them,” and she “totally just gave them her real name. No, really, bro.”

You know the type. But me? Nah, I’m not that type. I see through the illusion. Or maybe it’s just that a woman hasn’t turned my head—stripper or otherwise—in years.

Several, several years.

But in any case, with both of the reasons there, here I am just fucking staring at her. Mesmerized, hooked. Like the animal inside of me that I’ve kept chained up finally has the scent of prey hitting its nostrils for the first time in far too long. And now it’s fucking starving.

There’s the taste of overpriced mid-level whiskey on my tongue, the faint scent of cigar smoke wafting through the air. And around me, Dan and the rest of my “buddies” are cavorting around, knocking back shots, cat-calling girls, and generally doing exactly what you’d expect of a bachelor party of thirty-to-forty-year-old guys to be doing in a strip club.

But not me. I just watch, my pulse thumping in my neck and my muscles clenching and unclenching as my eyes follow her every move.

“Bro!”

I’m startled from my thoughts by two sweaty palms slapping my shoulders from behind. And that’s saying something, because I never startle. I glance over my shoulder at the man of the hour, Dan, my old college roommate from what feels like a lifetime ago. A life before war. Before I met death and chaos. A life before the Special Forces.

My old life.

“Hey, man,” I force a smile. “Having a good time?”

“I’m having a fucking awesome time, man!”

Hey, it’s not my jam, but to each his own, I suppose.

“Great, buddy. Listen, thanks for the invite. I know it’s been a wh—”

“Bro, have you checked out the tits on that Asian chick over there?”

I’ve changed a lot in twenty years. Dan has not.

“Must have missed that,” I growl, rolling my eyes as I look away and take another sip of the twenty-dollar pour of Maker’s Mark in my glass.

Dan chuckles. “Guess you were distracted.”

“Hmm?”

He grins and nods at the stage I’ve been staring at, and there she is, still dancing. Still utterly captivating me.

“Dude, she is so fuckable.”

My jaw clenches tight. Very, very tight. About as tight as my fist on the glass of whiskey, which feels like it might shatter any second. I understand the place I’m in. And I understand what her job is. But the idea of anyone—of any man at all—looking at her like that, or thinking of her like that, has my blood boiling.

“Take it easy,” I growl, instead of smashing my glass over his head or throwing him across the room.

Dan just laughs. “Hey, it’s cool man, it’s cool. You saw her first, huh?”

He grins, and in the spirit of where I am, and allowing that Dan is wasted, and further allowing that in all likelihood, the wedding next month will be the last time I ever see Dan, I force a smile back.

“Sure.”

He smiles. “Well, shit man, go get a dance.”

“I’m not really into—”

“Nope! Not taking no for an answer, bro! It’s my bachelor party, and if you want her, she’s yours, man.”

The growl rumbles in my throat, but he can’t hear it over the music. The music suddenly switches songs, and when I glance back at the stage, she’s walking off of it.

Fuck.

My eyes scan the room, but she’s gone, and I shake my head. The fuck was I thinking anyways?

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Advertisement Banned Read online Madison Faye (Winchester Academy #4) http://www.books2020.com/banned-read-online-madison-faye-winchester-academy-4 Wed, 25 Jul 2018 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/banned-read-online-madison-faye-winchester-academy-4 Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Series: Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
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Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Banned (Winchester Academy #4)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	1230003440742
Book Information:
What happens when the school’s quirkiest band geek starts a rock band with three of the hottest guys in varsity football royalty? Well, pretty soon, I’m not just “with” the band. I’m with the band. The whole band… What could possibly go wrong? You know, besides everything. They’re panty-meltingly gorgeous, cocky, and three of the biggest stars on the varsity football team. I’m the dorkiest, tuba-playing music-geek this side of band camp. In a school full of rules and clichés, Anders Teller, Griffin Reeves, Carson Lafayette and I have nothing to do with each other. Except, I’m about to have everything to do with them. With all of them. They’re the last thing I expect when I sneak off campus after curfew to audition for an up-and-coming rock band. Neither is finding them mostly naked when I show up, or falling—yes, literally falling—into their arms… Everyone says to keep clear of crazy-hot musicians. They say the same thing about totally beautiful, ridiculously tempting football jocks, too. So what’s a girl to do when she comes across a stupid-hot combination of both? There’s three of them, and one of me. And before long, it’s not just the practice room that’s rocking and rolling… One never-been-touched nerd, three huge, utterly tempting jocks, and three whispered words that make my toes curl: “we’re gonna share.” As The Bard says, if music be the food of love, play on. Well, something tells me we’re about to play all night. Each of the Winchester Academy books are completely standalone stories, with no cliffhangers. This mfmm romance is all about her - no m/m. Safe, no cheating, and a HEA guaranteed.
Books in Series:	Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
Books by Author:	Madison Faye Books

1

Zara

This is a really, really stupid idea.

The words tumble through my head for maybe the eleven-thousandth time as I duck behind the bushes and creep forward under the window to the campus security office. The hard-shell guitar case in my hand bangs against my shin, and I wince in pain, but I keep going. This might be my first time sneaking off campus, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t understand that the first rule of sneaking off campus is don’t get caught sneaking off campus.

Especially not tonight. Not with what’s at stake for me.

I move quickly, panting, my heart racing as I scurry across a dark stretch of the campus quad and into a thicket of trees. Winchester really is beautiful at night, with the manicured gardens and grounds, the ancient stone walls, and the gorgeous Tudor-style buildings. It’s like sneaking around Hogwarts or something. Except it’s not a magic wand or broomstick in my hand, it’s a guitar. Because tonight, I’m going to my first ever audition for a real, live band.

Real enough and exciting enough to give me the balls to sneak off of my boarding school campus, after curfew, on a school night. I should mention that for a complete and utter band nerd like myself, whose never once gone to a party, or broken curfew, or broken really any rule at Winchester, this is wildly and completely out of character.

But, it’s worth it. Even if it’s dangerously stupid. I mean, this is my dream, and even if the orchestra, and the pep band, and the jazz band I play in at school here are great and challenging in their own rights, the opportunity to play in a real rock band, with gigs lined up and even an opportunity to compete in the Rockland county Battle of the Bands next month, is too good to say no to.

And tonight, I am not saying no to it.

Tonight took planning, too. I mean you don’t just decide to sneak off of the Winchester campus one day having never done it before. It took time to figure out when my dorm’s head resident would be back in her own room and not prowling the halls. It took time to figure out where the maintenance guy keeps the spare key for the laundry room exit door in the basement, the one that leads out to the maintenance dock and dumpsters behind my dorm hall. And, it took time to scope out the big wrought-iron fence that surrounds Winchester and discover the old side-entrance behind the campus security office. It took perfect timing to wait until the end of the football game tonight before changing, grabbing my stuff, and making my daring escape, seeing as I play tuba in the marching pep band that played tonight.

Tonight, the gate squeaks, but it’s a quiet squeak, thanks to the olive oil I snuck out of the dining hall at lunch and dumped over the rusty hinges earlier. I slip through, shutting it behind me and shivering with excitement as I realize I’m outside the grounds now. I glance down the street, and my pulse quickens as I spot the headlights of the cab, I just ordered fifteen minutes ago, waiting right where I asked it to.

I glance one more time back at the fence, and the campus behind it, take a deep breath, and start hustling for the cab. The stiletto heels of my thigh-high boots strike loudly on the quiet sidewalk, and as I near the cab and notice the cab driver leering at me, I’m made very much aware of just how short my skirt is. Or how skimpy my purposefully torn AC/DC tank top is. To say nothing of the scandalously sexy pair of black thong panties I’m wearing. I blush when I think of slipping those on earlier. I mean it’s not like I’m that girl. I’m not going to an audition and like, taking my freaking clothes off or anything, no matter how insane an opportunity it is. But they make me feel sexy, and confident, and I need both of those things tonight.

Obviously, none of this outfit is dress-code appropriate for Winchester. And quite honestly, this skirt would even probably warrant a stern talking-to from the resident advisor or other faculty even if I wore it outside of classroom hours on the weekend. But tonight, this is me. This is my look, I mean, I’m sneaking off my high school campus to audition for a rock and roll band.

…Gotta look the part, right?

The driver doesn’t seem to give too much of a shit that I’ve pretty clearly just slipped out a side entrance of a private boarding high school. Well, first he tells me I have to be eighteen to ride alone in a cab, but he only gives my ID the briefest glance before he grunts and puts the car into drive. We roar through the night, through downtown Southworth and over into Rivington next door, where my audition is at. I shiver as I look out into the night, my hands gripping my bag and my guitar case tightly.

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Advertisement Bully Read online Madison Faye (Winchester Academy #5) http://www.books2020.com/bully-5-read-online-madison-faye Wed, 25 Jul 2018 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/bully-5-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Series: Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
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Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Bully (Winchester Academy #5)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
Book Information:
This is a story of lust. This is a story of playing with fire. But mostly, it’s just the story of us. …buckle up. Forbidden. Tempting. Magnetic. Illicit. Jamison Scott is many things, including my tormentor, my nemesis, and my sworn enemy. Unfortunately, he’s also the only man I’ve ever wanted. Oh, right, he’s also about to be my new stepbrother. Years ago, it was pulling my hair and putting frogs in my lunch box. But now, the little boy from down the street is all grown up. Big, strong, gorgeous, and undeniably captivating. Now he’s living down the hall, smirking at me across the breakfast table, and invading my every dark, toe-curlingly forbidden thought. I want to hate him, and I should hate him. But instead, I just want him. Horribly so. Achingly so. His illicit touch makes me scream, and his forbidden, filthy words in my ears take my breath away. I shouldn’t crave him like this. I shouldn’t get all tingly whenever he growls my name. He’s the firestorm I never saw coming, and if we’re not careful, we’ll both get burned. I can do without the frogs in my lunch, but thirteen years later? …Well, something tells me I might just like it if Jamison Scott pulled my hair this time.
Books in Series:	Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
Books by Author:	Madison Faye Books

1

Ramona

I flick the light switch on in my room, and instantly, I shriek.

Dicks. Dicks as in penises, and they’re everywhere. The gym bag with my stuff from cheer practice drops to my feet as my jaw about hits the floor. My hand is basically stuck to the light switch as I just stand there in the doorway, my eyes scanning the room.

The full-color printouts are seriously all-fucking-over the place—taped to my walls, hanging from strings tied to the goddamn light fixtures. They’re taped to the curtains and posts of my canopy bed, covering my freaking windows, and scattered like x-rated confetti across the floor. There’s even a damn chain of them, like Tibetan prayer flags, strung from one wall to the opposite one—like a perverted Buddhist shrine to male anatomy.

I purse my lips as my face goes hot, my hands closing to fists as my brows knit. There’s only one person who could do this, of course.

Jamison.

That prick. I mutter swears to myself as I whirl, my pulse racing as I march down the hall to one of the back staircases. I’m not new to Jamison Scott’s juvenile bullshit, or his incessant need to tease me, or taunt me, or bully me around in that smug-smiled, infuriating way that he’s done since we were fucking five. What I am new to, is it happening in my fucking house.

A shadow hangs over my face as I storm down the stairs and then down the hallway towards the other staircase that will take me down to the garage, where I’m sure he’s working on his stupid car.

No, I’m not used to him being in my freaking house—living here, being around me always, smirking at me across the breakfast table and being there when I get home from school or practice. Because this is all new.

When we were five, it was a matter of trying to ignore him and going on with my day, at the end of which, I could go home and leave Jamison Scott and his teasing and taunting in the kindergarten room, or later elementary school, or junior high. And then at the very beginning of sophomore year, the Scott brothers and their dad moved seven-hundred-and-fifty-eight miles away to South Carolina, and I was free of Jamison and his incessant antics.

…Or so I thought. Because nine months ago, my mother decided to casually drop that she’d been seeing Bobby Scott long-distance for a number of months. And then six months ago, over dinner, she dropped the little bombshell that he’d be moving into our house.

Why?

Oh, because my mother is going to be marrying the father of my childhood tormentor. Right, and it goes without saying, Bobby Scott moving into our home meant Jamison was going to come too.

Infuriatingly cocky, obnoxiously charming, unfairly hot Jamison Scott.

…My soon-to-be stepbrother.

I scowl, shoving those thoughts away as I thunder down the last staircase and slam open the side door to the five-car garage.

“Jamison!”

I plant my hands on my hips, a scowl on my face as I glance around the room, my eyes narrowing as I look for him.

Where the fuck is—

“Moaner.”

I gasp, and in spite of everything—in spite of the years of teasing, an taunting, and going out of his fucking way to be a royal dick to me every goddamn chance he got, I shiver at the sound of Jamison’s voice in my ear, from behind me.

And therein, as they say, lies the rub. There’s the worst fucking part of all of it. It’s not that Jamison Scott is a prick. It’s not that him moving back to Southworth totally fucks with my senior year. And it’s not even that is father marrying my mom is going to mean we’re stuck together for pretty much forever. It’s that deep down, underneath the scowls I throw his way, and the flippant way I tell him off, or the prim way I ignore him when he’s trying to get under my skin, or the way I tell myself how much I hate him?

…Deep down, I know I don’t hate him at all.

Deep down, part of me—a very sick, very shameful part of me—wants him.

I shiver at the sound of his voice in my ear, even if he’s calling me by that nickname that I hate. I whirl, every intention of telling him off, but when I do, my breath catches, and my words fail me.

He’s shirtless. Goddamnit, why is he shirtless? And yeah, this would be one of the reasons that despite my total disdain for Jamison, that dark, secret part of me aches for him in this fucked up way. Because Jamison Scott is freaking gorgeous.

He was hot when he moved away those years before. He came back downright sinful. He came back as sex on a fucking stick. He left a cute guy, and he came back a stupid-hot man. Muscles for days, and tattoo ink swirling up and down both arms and across his chest. Dark hair, piercing dark eyes, and that infuriatingly cocky grin that does all sorts of things to a girl. I swallow, telling myself on repeat to stop staring at his abs before I finally manage to drag my eyes up to his and force myself to scowl.

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Advertisement Broken Read online Madison Faye (Winchester Academy #3) http://www.books2020.com/broken-3-read-online-madison-faye Sun, 08 Jul 2018 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/broken-3-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Erotic, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Series: Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
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Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 35946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Broken (Winchester Academy #3)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
Book Information:
Note to self: don’t sleep with the gorgeous, tattooed, motorcycle-driving hottie after a friend’s train wreck of a bachelorette party. Especially not when he looks at you like he wants to devour you. Especially not when he’s a little younger looking than you. Especially not when it turns out he’s your newest student. …Oops. Ethan Scott is the kind of man your mother warns you about. Reckless, cocky af, damaged, beautiful, of course, and completely irresistible. And if that weren’t a long enough laundry list of reasons to stay away? …He’s also eight years my junior, and my student at the private high school where I teach art. Winchester Academy’s newest bad boy student—my student—is utterly off limits. The problem is, he’s also gorgeous, tempting, addicting, and has me wrapped around his freaking finger. The other problem is, I already slept with him. He’s the firecracker waiting to blow, the spark that sets off the fire. He’s broken, and this whole thing could break us both. But something about him makes me go crazy. Something about him makes me say yes instead of no. Something about him has me aching for more, no matter the consequences. …This might be a problem.
Books in Series:	Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
Books by Author:	Madison Faye Books

Prologue

Ethan

Rain hammers down across the roof and hood of the car like bullets, the thunder booming like cannons. Water pours in torrents down the outside windows, mimicking the sweat running in rivulets down both of our naked bodies.

The neon from the gas-station sign and the lightening flashes turns her skin orange and then white as she writhes on top of me. And when the thunder shatters the sky again, I can feel the slick, tight walls of her pussy clamping down on my length, squeezing me as her pulse jumps and her moan catches in her throat.

Breaths pant, hands clench, lips bruise together, the windows fog up until they’re opaque with our lust.

With our sin.

My hands grip her ass tightly, bringing her up and down, up and down, plunging my cock into her over and over. Her teeth nip at my lip and her nails rake over my skin. My muscles bunch, abs clench, and my cock pulses as I grunt and rut into her, claiming her as my own.

This is wrong, what we’re doing. So very wrong. Neither of us are under any illusions, either. We both know that if people found out about this, there’d be gasps and clutched pearls. There’d be scandal and ruin.

And yet, we can’t stop. Us stopping this thing between us would be like trying to boil the ocean, or wall off the sun. Stopping this would be as improbable as stopping the world from turning. In fact, you might have a better shot at that than at taking me away from her.

“Ethan,” she gasps, clinging to me, her breath catching and her body tensing as I plunge deep inside of her.

Fuck, she feels like heaven. So fucking good, and so fucking wrong. Maybe it’s so good because it’s so wrong. Or maybe she and I were destined to be like this. Maybe every step in both of our lives have led to this one, forbidden, illicit moment, where we both push morals and decency, and social norms and her professional ethics aside and just give the fuck in to our base, animalistic desires.

Maybe I don’t give a shit what the reason is, or how wrong this is. Because she’s everything to me, and no ethics, or morals, or society or any of that shit is going to tell me otherwise.

Thunder booms, her fingers claw at my inked skin, and I growl as I feel her walls clench down on me even tighter. Lighting flashes, and when our eyes lock in the heady, neon light through the fogged-up windshield of her beat up old Jeep Grande Wagoneer, it’s like we’re in the middle of the storm itself.

We grind into each other as the winds howl and thunder splits the sky, rain pelting down and her sweet, tight, perfect little pussy bouncing up and down my cock until suddenly, I can feel her start to fall.

And in that moment, like any moment with her, none of it matters. It doesn’t matter that they’d say this is wrong. It doesn’t matter that the media would shred us to pieces.

…It doesn’t matter that I’m eighteen years old, or that the woman riding my cock and about to come so hard for me is my twelfth grade art teacher.

All that matters is that she’s mine.

Lightning sears across our retinas, thunder shakes the very car around us, and the rain slams against the roof like fucking hail. She cries out, her nails digging into my skin, her lips crushing to mine. And when I feel her tighten and clench around my length, I pull her down and plunge myself as deep into her as I can as she shatters above me.

She’s my teacher. I’m her student. Separate, we’re damaged. Together?

Well, I want to say together we’re perfect. But the truth is that it might be more that together, we’re a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

She’s the fuse, I’m the match. And this town has no fucking idea of the powder-keg it’s sitting on.

Our lips bruise together, her body writhes against me, and the storm rage around us.

Tick.

Tick.

Boom.

1

Emily

“You want a what?”

The bartender at the Crest and Anchor gives me an odd look as he shouts the question over the screaming crowd filling the place.

“A manhattan!”

He frowns, shaking his head.

“That’s got whiskey it in, you know.”

Hell yes it does.

“Yeah, I know.”

His brow furrows and he shakes his head as he turns to make it. I could, and probably should be a little peeved at the benign sexism of his being so shocked that a girl might want a whiskey drink. But, whatever. Pick your battles, I guess. He’s older, and the bar is used to snobby golfer or yachting types and their trophy wives who drink vodka or bubbles. And honestly, I don’t give a shit as long as I can pour some more booze down my throat as soon as possible.

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Advertisement Brat Read online Madison Faye (Winchester Academy #2) http://www.books2020.com/brat-2-read-online-madison-faye Mon, 02 Jul 2018 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/brat-2-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Erotic, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Series: Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Brat (Winchester Academy #2)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
Book Information:
The head cheerleader hooking up with the star quarterback? Totally normal. But accidentally bedding and giving her v-card to his brother, the school’s newest, hottest professor? Yeah, not so normal, and all sorts of scandalous. Oh, and that’s before they decide to “share”… Cheerleading captain, social royalty, daughter of a senator, and maybe a bit of bitch? As the reigning queen bee of Winchester Academy, it makes sense that I might hook up with Beckett Truman—the gorgeous, cocky, king-of-the-school star varsity quarterback. I mean that Hollywood script writes itself. But a party dare gone wrong turns into something hotter than I’ve ever imagined when I accidentally give my v-card to his brother, Porter. …As in, possessive, dominant, and totally hot Professor Truman, my new freaking math Professor. Eight years my senior, completely off-limits, and utterly irresistible. I know I should be horrified, or mortified. But it’s a little hard to feel anything but bliss when this Queen finds herself in the arms of not one, but two kings. Because Porter and Beckett want to share… I slept with the wrong brother, and it just might be the hottest mistake of my life. Each of the Winchester Academy books are completely standalone stories, with no cliffhangers. Hot, wild, and insta-love galore, with TWO utterly obsessed alpha heroes and an untouched, very, very off-limits heroine. If you love over-the-top, slightly unrealistic, and wildly dirty stories, this one’s for you! This mfm romance is all about her – no m/m. As with all my books, this steamy novella is safe, with no cheating, and a HEA guaranteed.
Books in Series:	Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
Books by Author:	Madison Faye Books

Prologue

Porter

Her body undulates against mine—the smooth, young, sweat-slicked skin of her back sliding against my rock-hard chest and abs. The smell of vanilla lavender shampoo fills my senses as I bury my nose in that fiery red hair, held in my fist and pulled away from the bare nape of her neck. My lips taste that skin, and she gasps this achingly broken moan of pleasure.

Her tight little ass grinds back against my thick, hot, hard cock, and I grunt as I feel it twitch and pulse against her. My hand tightens in her hair, my lips teasing over the back of her skin. My other hand grips her waist, pulling her against me before it slides up her supple body. My big hand feels like it could wrap around her waist, like I could pick her up with one damn hand and sink her back down onto my aching cock.

Fingers tease over her pale, freckled skin, making her squirm and whimper heatedly as my hand skims higher to cup one soft, full, pert breast. I can feel her puffy pink nipple harden to a point against my palm, and when my fingers tease over it, she cries out and turns her head, eagerly seeking my mouth with hers. I growl as I give her what she needs, crushing my lips to hers and tasting her tongue as our bodies grind together.

This is wrong. Very, very fucking wrong. In the thinnest sense of the law, yes, she’s legal. She’s eighteen. She’s willing. She’s so fucking eager I can feel it dripping down her thighs. But “legal” and “right” aren’t the same thing. I know that, and I keep telling myself that, but the devil inside of me just will not fucking listen.

Touching her is wrong. Hell, thinking about this girl the way I’ve been thinking about her is filthy enough to send me straight to hell. Or, fuck, jail, if this was just a few months ago. She’s eighteen. She’s legal. She wants this so fucking bad I can smell it in the air. And she’s mine.

But that doesn’t make this right.

The fact that I’m nine years her senior is messed up. The fact that she’s a senior at Winchester Academy is worse. But if you think that’s the worst of it, buckle the fuck up.

She’s not just a student at Winchester. She’s my fucking student at Winchester. The tight little ass grinding against my bare cock, turning my blood to liquid fire in my veins is my student. My barely legal, very off-limits, very-fucking-untouchable, very bratty little prick-tease of a student.

And tonight, she’s going to be mine. Tonight, I’m going to bury my cock in that sweet little cunt until she’s moaning for more and coming all over me. Wrong or not, there’s not a power on this earth that could stop that from happening. Not with the smell of her hair in my face, or the feel of her sweat-slicked skin against mine. Or the feel of her tight little body rolling under my touch.

…Not when I already know how she’s going to feel. Because this isn’t the first time. And that may be the worst of it. This isn’t me giving in to temptation for the first time. It’s the second time. Fuck, no, it’s the third. I’ve already had her, and tasted her sweet honey from between her legs, and watched her face as she came for me. I should have felt guilty. I should have been remorseful. I should have wanted to keep my distance, or fuck, quit my job and move across the country.

But I didn’t feel or do any of those things, because the only thing I want is more. I’ve tasted the forbidden fruit, and consequences be damned, all I want is more of the sweetness.

“You want this cock, bad girl?” I growl into her ear, her cry of pleasure floating through the air as my teeth rake the lobe of her ear.

“Yes,” she gasps eagerly, pushing her ass back against my hard cock. “Yes!”

My pulse jumps, and I look up past her shoulder and nod at the other person in the room, sitting on the edge of the couch.

My adoptive brother and best friend.

“Then suck his cock,” I whisper heatedly in her ear. “Suck his cock and show me how bad you can be, naughty girl.”

1

Kempton

Every high school has its “roles” that people fill. The nerd. The jock. The outcast. The Queen. The real world is a little more blurred than The Breakfast Club might have you believe, but trust me, it’s all there, and in a place like Winchester Academy, the hierarchy is only harsher, the lines in the schoolyard dug even deeper.

For me, it’s Queen—the Queen. Queen, with maybe a sprinkling of “prick tease.”

Except, not really on that last part. My reputation is much more… well, let’s say “X-rated” than what’s actually fact. To most of the school, yes, I’m a cock tease, but a cock tease that eventually delivers, so long as you’re popular enough—high enough on the social spectrum to turn heads and create whispered gossip that will echo through the ivy-covered halls of Winchester Academy for the rest of the semester. Only the highest of the popular echelons of school royalty get in these panties. Prom kings. Footballs stars. And if you believe the rumor mill, much, much older men who put these school boys to shame.

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Advertisement Bait Read online Madison Faye (Winchester Academy #1) http://www.books2020.com/bait-1-read-online-madison-faye Tue, 26 Jun 2018 13:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/bait-1-read-online-madison-faye Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Authors: Madison Faye Series: Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
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Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >33

Read Online Books/Novels:	Bait (Winchester Academy #1)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Madison Faye
Language:	English
Book Information:
There’s bad, and inappropriate, and scandalous, and wrong. And then there’s giving your virginity to your gorgeous and dominant high school government Professor, on his desk, five minutes after you turn eighteen. Oh I’ve been a bad, bad girl… Winchester Academy is home to a lot of things – the spoiled rich kids of the world’s elite, ivy-covered walls, typical high school drama and angst, and him– Professor Oliver Bard. Dominant, alpha, and completely freaking gorgeous. I know he looks at me, even if he sees me as forbidden fruit—tempting, off-limits jailbait. But I’ve been obsessed with him for way, way too long, which is why I purposefully got myself thrown into his infamous “midnight detention” on the eve of my eighteenth birthday. Just the two of us, alone, watching the clock tick down. Yesterday, this would be illegal. Today, it’s just plain wrong. Wrong, sick, morally reprehensible, and achingly hot. This could ruin him, and put a scarlet letter on my back for the rest of high school. But once I feel those big hands on me, and once I get a taste of his perfect, forbidden mouth, and once he shows me things I’ve only ever dreamed about, imagining him, I know there’s no going back. I know I should say no, but that’s a little hard to do when his mouth and hands and…well, other things are only making me scream “yes, professor”… --- Each of the Winchester Academy books are completely standalone stories, with no cliffhangers. Hot, wild, and insta-love galore, with an utterly obsessed alpha hero and an untouched, very, very off-limits heroine. If you love over-the-top, slightly unrealistic, and wildly dirty stories, this one’s for you! As with all my books, this steamy novella is safe, with no cheating, and a HEA guaranteed.
Books in Series:	Winchester Academy Series by Madison Faye
Books by Author:	Madison Faye Books

1

Anastasia

Tick. Tock.

The classroom is silent except for the nearly invisible ticking of the big black and white clock up above the blackboard.

Tick. Tock.

It’s almost midnight, which means it’s almost time. Besides being near-silent, the classroom where by day we’re taught U.S. Government and Policy is also basically empty. I mean, of course it is—it’s nearly midnight, on a school night at that. And even with as prestigious and driven a place as Winchester Academy, midnight is still kind of pushing it to be in a high school classroom.

But then, I’m not here to learn. I’m here for detention.

He’s only been here this one semester, but already, Professor Bard’s made a name for himself as, well, maybe a bit of a hard-ass. He’s not an asshole, and nothing he does or says is over the line at all. He just doesn’t take any bullshit in his classroom, and at place like Winchester Academy, full of quite possibly some of the most affluent, connected, spoiled, and arrogant private high school students in the country, that’s no easy feat.

But even if they give other teachers a hard time, the students of Winchester are models of respect and attention when they enter Oliver Bard’s classroom. Maybe it’s those piercing, gorgeous blue eyes of him—like mountain ice or blue fire. Maybe it’s the firm, chiseled jaw, and the perfect cheekbones. Or it’s possible that in this place of old money wealth and traditions, with the strictly enforced dress code, and no visible piercings, and skirts being no more than two inches above the knee—they check—and staunchly formal and conservative teachers, Professor Bard breaks the mold in a major way.

…I mean, there aren’t any other professors I know of at Winchester who have two full sleeves of tattoos.

And beyond all of that, if you still want to act like a clown in Professor Bard’s classroom, there’s this, where I am now: his legendary “midnight detention.” And it’s exactly what it sounds like. As seniors, we can be out of the dorms later than underclassmen, provided we’re working on a school-related activity, and that we stay on Winchester’s sprawling, ivy-covered campus. And Professor Bard has exploited that to the fullest with his midnight detentions. You show up at ten, and you don’t leave until one in the fucking morning. No ifs, ands, or buts.

Talk back in class? That’s a midnight detention. Disrupt his lesson? Midnight detention. Stand up in the middle of class, sigh loudly, ask why the lesson is “so freaking boring” and then flip him off when he tells you to sit your ass down? Oh, you better believe that’s a midnight detention. I know first-hand on that last one.

…Of course, leaving a pair of my panties in his desk drawer, right on top of his pens and his favorite red marker for grading papers, where I knew he’d find it last week?

Yeah, that may have something to do with it too.

Tick. Tock.

I glance at the clock, and my pulse skips a little bit.

So close. It’s almost time. I swallow thickly, my skin tingling as my hands drop to my lap. I smooth my plaid skirt down nervously, or maybe excitedly. Probably both. My toes curl in my flats, my sock-covered knees rubbing together as I glance at the clock again, and then around the empty classroom, and then up to the front, to him.

Oliver Bard is sitting at his desk—back straight, his jaw tight, and his eyes moving over the papers he’s grading. His jacket is off—even professors have a dress code at Winchester—but he’s got his sleeves rolled up to just under the elbow. I bite my lip as my eyes dart over the ink covering his muscled forearms, watching them ripple as he writes. His raises one hand, sliding his fingers through his thick dark hair, his perfect lips murmuring to himself as he reads.

Tick. Tock.

Just a few minutes to go, and my pulse skips again, the anticipation shivering through me like wildfire in my veins. Nervousness. Excitement. Eagerness.

…We both know why I’m here.

We both know what’s going to happen tonight, as soon as the time clicks over to midnight, and into tomorrow. We’ve never spoken the words out loud. We haven’t written them down. But we both know.

It’s obvious. It’s so thick in the air you could cut it with a knife. It’s barely contained in the ways his eyes have lingered on me for the last half hour.

…Or, the last four months before it. Back before, when even looking was forbidden, and touching would be a crime.

At midnight, it won’t be a crime.

At midnight, I’ll be legal.

Of course, in my opinion, it’s not a crime if I’m willing—if I’ve practically been begging for it. If I’ve all but walked up to him, taken my clothes off, grabbed his bulge, and slid into his lap. But it would have been. Legally speaking, I guess. Morally? Well, that depends where your compass is. Most would call it wrong—deplorable, maybe. Fucked up. Perverted. Utterly reprehensible. If we’d acted on what we’ve barely kept hidden behind our eyes, and if it’d been discovered, he’d be in a lot of trouble. Jobless, for sure, and maybe jail. I’d have gotten some of the mess on me, but we all know it wouldn’t have stuck. For him? It’d have followed him the rest of his life. They’d look at him as a predator, and me, the victim.

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