DIRTY SEXY GAMES by Laurelin Paige is LIVE!


DIRTY SEXY GAMES (Dirty Games Book 2) by Laurelin Paige

Release Date: 6th November

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Cover Designer: Laurelin Paige & Tom Barnes

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The conclusion of the surprising love story begun in Dirty Sexy Player.

I didn’t have a plan for him.

He was the means to an end, a workaround to the cruel terms of my father’s will that would allow me to inherit his company.

I hadn’t planned to fall for him.

I hadn’t planned to enjoy every minute of our wedding, hadn’t planned to gasp his name so many times that night, hadn’t planned for the sexy games on our honeymoon.

He didn’t plan for his secrets to come out.

And neither of us planned for heartbreak.



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Start the duet 
#Free Prologue – Dirty Sexy Bastard

#Read Book 1 – Dirty Sexy Player

Reviewed by Emma-Louise on behalf of KFF

Picking up right where Dirty Sexy Player left off, we are catapulted back into the dark chasm that is the relationship of Weston and Elizabeth. Each on a journey of self-discovery, can two power-driven people ever discover the middle ground? A marriage of convenience with two people who are anything but easy or convenient.

Both suffered terribly as children. Parents often make the worst mistakes when it comes to their own children. Intentional or not, they always leave scars. Weston and Elizabeth spend so much of this duet treading on hypothetical landmines. Positively, one of them will always make a stand to communicate the issues as they are.

“You got it?” he asked again, meaner, more intense.
“I got it. No games. We’re together, and it’s real.”
“You better never doubt this is real.”

Games. Games play a part in the lives of Weston and Elizabeth and no, I’m not talking about Chess or Monopoly. They thrive on trying new and different things together. Their honeymoon is a perfect example, neither has tried everything in the world and they are more than willing to give it a go with each other. Some of the sweetness but hottest scenes of this book happened when they were playing.

Weston is tested beyond anything he’s ever known. His priorities and loyalties have to shift and he spends so much time flipping back and forth about what is the right course of action. Elizabeth on the other hand, has been dipping her toe into her inner strength. She has a steel rod in place of a spine and she’s never selfish with her strength. She’ll protect anyone who needs her even at great personal risk.

The funniest part of this book and there were several really hilarious parts, was a re-telling from Dirty Filthy Rich Love. It was such a minor bit but boy, did it make me laugh. I know my description is vague, but where would the fun be in telling all in a review.

There is plenty of character interaction between Weston, Elizabeth and their parents. It was such a joy to watch how the scenarios played out considering the history and troubled waters dividing them. Children can place their parents in a position that is next to unwinnable and as shiny as their armour is, we, as their children find it hard to see past the damage their armour carries.

‘…even though he was mine, too, even though I was still a queen on my own–Weston King was the one who ruled me.’ 

There was angst, there was pain. There was enough laughter to fill a comedy club, and who can forget Donovan. He may mean well but he plays his games at champion level. I’d not mess with him in a million years. I’m a self-professed lover of the emotional and self-fulfilling books. I need fast-paced but detailed and slow. This author can pull it off every single time. Thank you and congratulations.


As soon as we were in our suite, the bomb exploded, the bomb being Elizabeth. “We’re alone now, so just tell me straight. You knew I was always going to France. If you wanted to be with me, you had to know it would involve living there. Is that not something you’ll even consider? Is it Sabrina? Is it Reach? Is it Donovan? Because if it’s fucking Donovan who’s keeping you from—”I grabbed her hands, which were flying in midair as she yelled, and pulled them behind her back at her waist as I cut her off with a searing kiss, my tongue plunging into her open mouth, robbing her of oxygen. When she was thoroughly kissed, her lips pliable, her body sagging in my arms, I let her go.“I’m tired, Elizabeth. I’m not discussing fucking anything tonight.” I took off my tuxedo jacket and threw it on the desk. Then I began working on my cufflinks. “What I think we both need now is to release some tension.”

Her spine straightened, her neck growing longer as she stared at me in shock. “You think we’re going to have sex now?”

I loved how she made it sound disgusting, like she wasn’t interested, even when I’d just been kissing her and had felt the lean in her body, had tasted the desire in her mouth.

Two could play the indifference game.
I shrugged. “I’m fucking someone tonight. If you want it to be you, you better take off your dress.”

Her mouth slammed shut, and she only seemed to consider it for two seconds before she was fumbling with the zipper at her back. She struggled with it, but I didn’t help her. It made me stiff to watch her frantically trying to strip down, just because I told her to. Just because she thought I might find a better offer if she didn’t.

Like there was a better offer than her.
Like there was anyone but her.

I didn’t take my eyes off her as I unbuttoned my vest and tossed it to the side with my jacket. I’d loosened my tie by the time she got her dress undone. It fell to the floor and she was left wearing a strapless corseted bra, one that had a low back so it couldn’t be seen with her dress on, and matching lace panties—both in a white ivory so virginal and bridal it seemed dirty.

Jesus, she was a fucking wet dream.
And she was my wife.



With over 1.5 million books sold world wide, Laurelin Paige is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal and USA Today Bestselling Author. She is a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there’s kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn’t seem to complain, however. When she isn’t reading or writing sexy stories, she’s probably singing, watching Game of Thrones or The Walking Dead, or dreaming of Michael Fassbender. She’s also a proud member of Mensa International though she doesn’t do anything with the organization except use it as material for her bio. She is represented by Rebecca Friedman.

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