M.S. Parker's Blog, page 2

New Release: Single Malt (The Scottish Billionaires)

New Release!



Brody: I never let anyone get close. It’s too easy to lose the people you love. Just like I lost my mother, Shannon, after whom I named my business. That strategy has worked splendidly, until the night my steel walls were shattered by a single kiss.

Freedom: What harm is a little New Year’s Eve kiss? It doesn’t mean anything. The same applies to a New Year’s Eve hook-up, right? Except I can’t get that infuriating man out of my mind. Not even to focus on the most important task of my life, completing my last semester at Stanford.

At his distillery, Brody McCrae crafts a fine Scottish whiskey, while Freedom Mercier is finishing her Master’s degree with big plans to change the world. When the two of them are brought together at a holiday party, neither one can predict the impact that moment will have on their lives…and those they love.

Don’t miss Single Malt, another steamy entry in M.S. Parker’s Scottish Billionaires saga.

LA Misbehaved Excerpt

Chapter OneAstra

“Have fun.” I clung to the woman in my arms, blinking back tears.

My best friend laughed and pulled back until I could see her dark blue eyes shine. “I’m not kidding, Astra Traore. If you start to cry, it will make me cry.”

“I’ll cry, you’ll cry…” I gave a dramatic sigh and pulled her in for another hug. “We’ll all start to cry!”

The thing was…it wasn’t really a joke.

I knew it was silly to be this upset. She was just going away for a week. But it was her honeymoon, and when Piety came back, she wouldn’t be the exact same woman. Then again, she already wasn’t.

She was no longer Piety van Allen.

She was Piety Hastings. As of four hours ago – not to mention the numerous drinks, dances, and some rather delicious cake – she was married. For real this time.

The tall, beautiful blond man standing next to her bent to kiss my cheek when I turned to him.

“Take care of her.” I thought it would’ve been easier to fight back the tears now, but it wasn’t. Taking care of Piety – and her taking care of me – had been the job since first grade.

And now I was practically the third wheel.

No wonder I felt like crying.

But I was happy for her.

Of course, I was.

It was the truth too. I didn’t even have to convince myself of that. All I’d ever wanted was for her to be happy, and Kaleb did that.

But as I waved them off, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I was happy for them, but I wasn’t so sure how I felt about my own life anymore. Piety wasn’t just newly married. She was also four months pregnant. I would be demoted from third wheel to fourth wheel come spring. I didn’t begrudge her any of it, but I couldn’t deny that it made me a bit sad to think that we were barely into our twenties and everything was changing in such a significant way.

“You went and turned kind of grim, sweetness.”

I glanced over at my date for the night – and most nights that needed dates. Baylor Aravis was a friend, casual for the most part. We both hated the idea of our parents setting us up with somebody of their choosing, and since it just wasn’t done to go alone to a wedding, or any other significant social event, we latched onto each other whenever we could. That was just the way the rules played out in the circles our families traveled in.

I could practically hear my mother’s appalled tone if I’d even suggested attending the wedding of a congressman’s daughter by myself. It didn’t matter that everyone would be paying attention to the happy couple since their love story had been splashed all over every magazine, newspaper, and website in the country since the moment it’d broken. Mom would want me to make an appropriate impression.

Since Baylor and I both hated that endless push from our parents, we tended to do the socializing bit together.

And later, we’d do something else together, if we were in the mood.

Earlier, I’d planned on finishing up the night solo girl style, a bunch of corny romantic comedies and ice cream. And maybe some time with my B.O.B. – battery-operated boyfriend.

Now, I didn’t want to be alone.

So, I leaned against Baylor and smiled. “Just thinking about how much it would suck to go home alone after such a beautiful wedding.”

“Is that what you were thinking?”

He rested a hand on my hip, and I felt the warmth of his touch through my silk bridesmaid’s dress. Since I’d been the only bridesmaid, Piety had let me choose what I wanted to wear. I’d gone with a dusky gold dress in a style inspired by the roaring twenties. I looked smashing, if I did say so myself.

Baylor’s hand traveled a bit lower. “I’m not much on weddings, but as far as they go…this one was nice.”

He drew closer, and I pushed myself up on my toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“Come on.” I reached for his hand. “Let’s have one more dance, then we can get out of here.”

 

* * * * *

 

My dress and undergarments lay on the back of Baylor’s couch.

I lay in front of them, devoid of everything but the band in my hair trying to contain my mass of nutmeg brown curls.

And Baylor knelt between my thighs, as naked as I was.

Eyes closed, I focused on what he was doing…which was when I knew I had a problem.

He was good at what he was doing.

I couldn’t fault his technique, and if I could just get my brain to turn off…

He raked his teeth over my clitoris and heat finally sparked through me. A startled noise escaped my throat as he slid two fingers inside my pussy, twisting them. As the heat turned into a pulse, it made it easier for me to feel instead of think. And I welcomed it.

One hand closed around my ankle while he continued to play the skilled fingers of his other hand over me, in me, like a particularly masterful musician.

The bright lights overhead shone too brightly in my eyes, and I closed them to block it out, to block out everything but the feel of his mouth and fingers working me toward release.

Except, just when I felt the climax pressing closer, he pulled away.

“Damn it, Bay!”

He gave an evil chuckle as he tugged me off the couch and helped me to my feet. I sulked, and he just smiled, guiding me until I was bent over, my hands on the couch cushions.

Yeah, he could smile.

He wasn’t the one who was so close to getting worked up just now.

He brushed kisses over my spine, working lower and lower. The gentleness of the touch, the eroticism, brought back the flame that had dimmed when he moved me from one position to another. His fingers stroked between my legs again, and I let my eyes close.

I heard the rustle of a condom wrapper, and then he was sliding inside. I pushed back on him hungrily.

I needed this…an escape from my own mind. A break from all of it. And his cock offered me that. It was one of the things I liked about Baylor. He knew where we stood, knew that it was friendship and sex and nothing more. We used each other for pleasure and escape with no other expectations.

As I ground back against him, he followed my lead, moving faster, rougher, deeper. He was a bit above average in the size department, and better than that, he knew how to use every inch.

It still wasn’t enough.

Even as I climaxed.

But I pretended it was.

An hour later, lying in his bed, I stared at the ceiling until I knew he was asleep.

Sometimes I stayed the night.

Sometimes I didn’t.

I’d never made it a point of sneaking out though.

But tonight…

Yeah.

Earlier, he asked if something was wrong and I laughed it off because I didn’t know if something was wrong.

The only thing I could figure out was that something didn’t feel right.

 

* * * * *

 

“Nope.” I stared at my reflection, the bright makeup lights highlighting a crucial fact: smear-proof makeup was a marketing scam. “Something definitely doesn’t feel right.”

And it was more than my smudged mascara or the lipstick that had long since disappeared.

I’d put it on for the wedding, counting on it to last through the entire event as well as my after-reception activities. It hadn’t. Hopefully, it hadn’t ended up on Piety when I’d been blubbering on her shoulder on more than one occasion.

My dress was on the floor. It needed to be cleaned and pressed before I donated it. I’d never wear it again, not when I knew if my mother spotted me in it a second time, she’d give me a thirty-minute lecture on what it meant to be a part of our world.

Our world did not recycle.

At the moment, I was wearing nothing but a robe, and the bathtub behind me was steaming hot, the water fragrant from the bath salts I dumped in a few minutes ago.

A hot bath, a glass of wine, and hopefully, I’d sleep.

I had all of tomorrow to lay around and mope about how my best friend’s happiness sucked for me. With any luck, I’d mope myself out of this depression.

If I didn’t, I’d just have to grin and bear it. It wasn’t like I hadn’t done that before. People thought that because people like me had money growing up that we had some sort of idyllic childhood. Not that mine was awful. I hadn’t been abused or even neglected. The poor little rich trope was annoying even to me by now.

I had no reason to be depressed, not really.

And I knew these raging feelings couldn’t just be because Piety had gotten married.

Married.

I laughed. She was married because of me.

And just like that, I was smiling. Stepping out of the robe, I thought about my friend and the big, blond Australian who’d stood at her side earlier as they exchanged rings and vows, all that sappy crap I’d pretended wasn’t going to make me cry.

It wasn’t their first time at the altar. They’d gotten married, while drunk, in Vegas. And I’d been there. I was the one who’d convinced them to do it in the first place. I’d seen something in Kaleb that had made me think that he would be perfect for my best friend. Now they were so happy, they were all goofy with it.

Sure, things would change some, but she was still my best friend. And when she had her baby, I’d be an aunt. Well, sort of. Maybe Piety would refer to me as a godmother instead. I could work with that. Astra, the fairy godmother.

The lingering ache of sadness remained, but as I slid into the bath, I felt a little less like crying.

Reaching for the wine, I lifted it up and toasted absolutely nothing.

“Change will do you good, or so the song goes, Astra.”

Don’t miss LA Misbehaved (Married A Stripper 2), release April 21st on Amazon.

Excerpt Collide Complete Series

Chapter One

Okay, so maybe driving from Washington, DC to New York City during the first week of January wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done, but since I had a history of always doing the right thing, the responsible thing, I figured I was allowed an occasional misstep.

I, however, seemed to be the only one who believed that to be true.

Right on cue, my mother’s voice shouted in my head. “You’ll regret this, Bryne Dawkins. You have no clue how good you have it.”

Despite what my mother thought, I was acutely aware of how fortunate I was. I remembered what it was like before my dad died, before Mom and I moved in with Nana and Papa, her grandparents, my great grands. I remembered lying in bed and hearing my parents arguing about rent and grocery money. And I could remember walking into Nana and Papa’s house, staring up at the ceiling so high above me with its glittering chandelier, unable to believe that we were going to live there now.

I wondered what Nana and Papa would’ve thought about what I was doing. They died shortly before I graduated high school, one of those couples who hadn’t been able to live without each other. Nana had gone first – her heart – and then Papa had followed two months later in his sleep. That’s when things started getting weird between Mom and me.

I sighed as I flicked my windshield wipers to high speed. It didn’t do much good. The visibility still sucked, and even though it was the middle of the afternoon, it was pretty dark. I probably should have waited to move since I wasn’t on any sort of timetable, but ever since I told Mom what I’d planned to do, she’d been impossible to live with. If I’d put off my plans, she would’ve used it as an opportunity to tell me how much I was messing up my life. Well, more than she already insisted I was.

“I can do this,” I whispered to myself. I wished my voice sounded a little more solid, more like I knew what I was doing.

I risked a glance down at the GPS that was supposed to take me to the hotel where I’d made a reservation. Except nothing had changed on it since the last time I looked.

Shit.

Something was wrong with the signal. I wasn’t a techie enough person to know what was wrong or how to fix it, but I did know that I was somewhere in the middle of New York City, completely lost, in a car that had been making a weird noise for the past twenty minutes.

Lost in New York.

In the snow.

In January.

At least the traffic wasn’t bad. I’d been dreading that part of driving in the city. Then again, the fact that I’d only seen two cars since I’d last turned was probably a good indication that the roads weren’t exactly safe at the moment.

I caught a glimpse of a bright light to my right just as my car sputtered to a stop, completing the end of a less than stellar day. I barely managed to pull it up to the curb before all forward momentum disappeared.

“No, no, no.” As if the denial would actually change the fact that every light in my dash was shining like a Christmas tree.

Dammit! I slammed my hand on the steering wheel. Because, of course, that would help things.

“Come on!” I tried turning my key off, then on, but all I could hear was the clicking sound that I knew meant something had gone more sideways than usual.

Mom had tried to tell me to get a new car, but this relic was the last of my father’s things. After he died and we moved, Mom had thrown out almost everything, but I’d put my foot down about the car. Nana and Papa had understood and offered to store it until I decided what I wanted to do. When I got my license, I declined their offer to buy me something new and insisted on insuring this thing. Mom told me I was being a sentimental fool, but I’d insisted.

You’re so hard headed. Your stubbornness will get you in a world of trouble one day.

Today is that day, it seems. Maybe I should’ve listened to her after all.

I put my forehead against the steering wheel and closed my eyes, telling myself that I wouldn’t cry. I was an adult dammit, and that meant I couldn’t sit here on the side of the road and indulge in the tears that were burning my eyes. I had a problem, and I needed to find a solution because no one else would do it for me.

I loved my mother, but her voice had haunted me from the moment I started loading my things into my car. Now, it wasn’t only her voice, but I could see her in my mind, her head shaking in disappointment.

We looked enough alike for people to comment on it. We were both short and curvy and had the same “cute” features that made us look younger than our actual ages. My eyes were from my dad though, the only feature of his that I got. Green. The same color as the leaves of a juniper tree, he always said.

Dad wouldn’t have wanted me to sit here and feel sorry for myself. He’d been a boxer, and he always told me that it wasn’t about how many times the other guy got in a punch, or even how often he got knocked down. What made a champion was that he kept getting back up. Not that getting back up had made my dad into one. I hadn’t minded though. Things hadn’t been perfect, but I’d loved my life even before I could afford anything I wanted.

It was that hard-headed nature that had given me the courage to move here by myself. Now, it would help me with my problem.

I opened my eyes and took a slow, deep breath. I needed to find out where I was before I could call a tow truck, which meant I needed to get out of the car since I couldn’t see anything from where I was sitting. I zipped up my coat, grabbed my purse, and stepped out into the snow.

I quickly walked around the front so I wasn’t standing in the middle of the street, and before I’d gone more than a few steps, I was cursing the fact that I hadn’t worn boots. The bottoms of my jeans were already soaked, and by the time I made it to the sidewalk, my socks were equally wet.

I really hoped this wasn’t an indication as to how my new life here was going to be.

Once I was safely out of the way, I looked up, squinting against the snow as I searched for the street signs. It was no good. Between the angle and the snow, I still couldn’t see much of anything.

Except the light that’d caught my attention. I could see now that it was a sign. A literal one, not some existential shit. DeMarco’s & Sons. I hoped that the light being on meant that they were open, because I really didn’t want to have to walk any farther than I had to, and I needed to find out my location.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside, blinking at the bright lights. My first impression was more sound than sight. The place was loud, and not just with the sort of noise that came with a garage. Mixed in with the sounds of tools was a radio blasting classic rock along with men’s voices.

“Excuse me?”

No one even looked at me, but that wasn’t surprising. I barely heard myself over the cacophony. I looked at the desk to my right and tapped the bell that was sitting there. Nothing. I scowled. I was no genius, but this didn’t seem like the best way to do business.

I was starting to get warm now, and my frustration at the situation wasn’t getting any better. I was tired and uncomfortable. All I wanted to do was check into my hotel room, shower, eat, and then spend the rest of the day sleeping.

I looked over at a group of four men who were the closest to me. None of them had even glanced in my direction. I sighed and started their way. I didn’t know what their problem was, and I really didn’t care. I just wanted to find out where I was.

Before I reached them, one of the men looked up, and I found myself staring into a pair of deep, vibrant cobalt blue eyes. They flicked down my body and then back up.

“Can I help you?”

Damn, that was some voice.

And some man, I realized, as he stood. Over six feet tall, and every inch of it lean muscle – a fact I was able to verify because he was wearing a skin tight t-shirt and a pair of worn but well-fitted jeans. His hair was dark, the color of cocoa, and tattoos wound their way up his arms, disappearing under his shirt.

I could see the desire in his eyes as I stopped, and it wasn’t the soft admiration or even the sort of inappropriate lechery I’d seen before. This was soul shattering desire that made my mouth go dry and my heart race. I’d never had anyone look at me that way before, and it completely threw me. As if everything else that had happened today wasn’t enough.

By now, the other three men were looking at me, but none of them held my attention like the man still watching me so intently.

“Something we can help you with?” A man to my left spoke.

I glanced at him. “I…where are we?”

“You’re right here, sweetie.”

All the men were standing now, and the two who hadn’t yet spoken took a step closer. The movement drew my attention, and it was only now that I realized coming in here might not have been a good idea. They were shorter than the first man – the one with the eyes – but broader, rougher looking. He looked like he could handle himself in a fight. These guys looked like they started the fights.

“My car broke down.” I blurted it out before I could think better of it. “I want to call a cab, but I don’t know what street we’re on.”

It was only as I said it that I realized I could’ve told a taxi to come to DeMarco’s & Sons and I wouldn’t have needed to come inside. I could’ve gotten back in my car and waited there. It might’ve been cold, but I wouldn’t have felt like I was in some sort of nature documentary – the kind of documentary where an announcer with a British accent talks about how hyenas take down a gazelle who dared to stray from the pack.

And I didn’t need to be a genius to know who the gazelle was in this scenario.

I wondered if I had enough time to dig in my purse for the pepper spray I bought a couple years ago. I had one of those rape whistles too, but I doubted anyone would be close enough to hear it. And judging by the way these guys looked, I doubted anyone would come, even if the thing carried sound across New York.

“I’ll be happy to fix your car for you, baby.” One of the other men leered at me. “And I’m sure we can work out some way for you to pay me back.”

“Or you can just stay here with all of us,” another man said. “You look like you could take us all on.”

“I bet she’d like that.”

The three of them were coming toward me, and I took a step back.

“Would you like that, sweetheart? Three fat dicks–”

“Lay off.”

The words were quiet, but the three men turned toward the first man I’d seen.

“You want in on this, Dax?” The shortest of the three motioned toward me. “I’m sure she can take one more, especially one with a dick as small as yours.”

The man and his two buddies laughed.

I glanced over my shoulder and tried to judge the distance to the door. Tried to remember how far it was from the door to my car. And then wondered if my car would even stop them if they were determined enough.

“Why don’t you guys go fuck yourselves?” The man they called Dax said the question in such a conversational tone that it took me a minute to realize what the words actually were.

For a moment, I thought there would be a fight, but then the trio laughed again, and one of them smacked Dax’s arm.

“We got shit to do,” the shortest one said and threw a wink my way. “When you’re done with her, try to talk her into coming back. We can have a party.”

“Fuck off, Georgie.” Dax walked around the three other men and came toward me, his long legs eating up the distance between us.

Electricity crackled around me, as if his very closeness changed the atmosphere of the room. I was torn between wanting to run away and wanting to know what it was like to be touched by him. Since I had no clue what the best thing to do was, I stayed in place and waited to see what he would do next.

“Dax Prevot.” The words were soft, as was the small smile curving his beautifully formed lips. He held out a hand to me, and I hardly noticed the other three men walking in the opposite direction.

I placed my palm against his and felt that surge of energy I’d been anticipating and fearing. His hand was warm and strong as it closed around mine. His smile faded, and for a moment, he looked as surprised as I felt.

I’m not sure how long I stood there, drawn into the spell his presence cast over me, but it wasn’t until Dax gave my hand a squeeze that I realized I hadn’t offered my own name.

“Bryne,” I said a bit too breathlessly for my liking, which snapped me back to reality. I pulled my hand away and gestured toward the door behind me. “If you could just tell me where I am, I’ll call a taxi.”

“You’re in Hell’s Kitchen,” Dax said as he grabbed a coat from behind the desk. “Let me take a look at the car.”

It wasn’t really a request, I realized as I followed him outside. I shivered as the cold hit me but there was no way I was going to stay inside the shop without Dax. He was a different kind of scary than those other guys.

He didn’t speak as he popped the hood of the car and started fiddling with things. After a couple minutes, he glanced up at me. “Try to start it.”

I nodded as I climbed into the car, my jaw starting to ache from clenching it so tightly. I knew the moment I opened my mouth, my teeth would chatter hard enough to hurt. I breathed a prayer as I turned the key and sighed in relief when the engine turned over. It sounded rough, but it was running.

A knock at the window made me jump. Dax stood outside the passenger’s side door for a moment, then opened it and climbed in without waiting for me to ask.

“Are you okay driving in this?” He didn’t look at me as he asked the question. “I can drive you if you’re not.”

“I’m fine.” I pulled my phone from my purse. “I just need directions. My GPS died.”

“Where are you going?”

“Casablanca on West 43rd Street.” I found myself watching him as he stared out the window. I’d always been pretty good at reading people, but this guy was impossible.

He glanced at me, then went back to watching the shop as he gave me clear, easy directions that I wouldn’t need my GPS to use. When he finished, silence fell, and for a few moments, I felt like we were in our own little world.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I don’t know what would’ve–”

“You should be more careful,” he cut me off. He turned toward me, some emotion flaring in his eyes. “Guys like that…” He shook his head and frowned. “Just be careful.”

The warning didn’t annoy me like it did the thousands of times I’d gotten it from my mother, which, I supposed, was unfair to her. In my defense, there was a difference hearing it from the woman who’d spent most of my life nagging me, and hearing it from a scary-hot stranger who’d essentially rescued me.

He opened the door, climbed out, then bent back down to look at me. “You’re new here, right?”

I nodded. “From DC.”

He seemed to be thinking about something, and I waited, hardly feeling the cold air blowing into the car.

“Meet me at Jane’s tomorrow at one. It’s a restaurant on West Houston Street.”

He closed the door before I could even decide if I wanted to accept or decline. Apparently, that wasn’t a request either. I stared at him as he walked back into the shop.

Well, damn. My new life here was definitely off to an interesting start.

 

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Excerpt Collide 5

Chapter 1

Dax

I’d never wanted to say anything less than I wanted to say those six words, but I knew my choices were limited. I made a promise to the woman I loved that I would no longer lie or hide things from her, so I had to tell her what I just learned, or she’d never forgive me. And that wasn’t an exaggeration. She told me that lying was the one thing she wouldn’t tolerate.

“Bryne, babe, he has your mom.”

For a moment, I wondered if she even heard me, but then all of the color drained from her face, and I knew she had.

“What?”

The word was small, almost child-like, and in that moment, I hated Booker more than I’d ever hated him or anyone. And I hated myself for bringing Booker into Bryne’s life.

I reached over and took her hands in mine. They were cold, and I lightly rubbed them as I recounted the phone call that’d ended only a few moments before.

“You know how I told you that Booker’s cousin was there when I got shot?”

She nodded.

“Well, I don’t remember a lot of the shit Julius said right before it happened, but it basically boiled down to him thinking that I’d stolen from him. I didn’t know why he thought it, or who was involved. Shit, I still don’t, but something went down. Booker didn’t give me a hell of a lot to go on, but basically, someone stole coke from Julius and his supplier, and he’s accusing Booker.”

Bryne started shaking, and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her onto my lap as I wrapped the covers around her more securely. I hated this.

“Because I told Georgie and the guys that I was out, Booker believes that I went behind his back and stole the drugs. Now, he’s demanding I trade him the coke for your mom.”

“But you didn’t take it.” Bryne tucked her head under my chin.

“He thinks I did.” I mentally called Booker every unprintable name under the sun. I’d suspected he might’ve been responsible for me getting shot. I’d expected him to threaten my mom, maybe even threaten Bryne again once he heard I’d quit. I never imagined he’d go after Bryne’s mother. He was supposed to be smarter than Georgie, not go off and do half-cocked shit.

Shit like kidnapping a private citizen. A citizen from DC who, according to what I knew about Bryne, had money and political connections. If he had been hoping for a ransom, it still would’ve been a stupid idea. Doing it to trade for drugs was idiotic. The fact that he made such a dumb move meant he was desperate.

“How did he even find her?”

Bryne Dawkins was the sort of woman who had more strength than people suspected at first glance. With her short stature and delicious curves, guys were more likely to drool over her body and ignore her mind, but I knew that’d be a mistake. She was the most amazing person I’d ever met.

And I’d ruined her life.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly and pressed my lips to the top of her head. “I am so sorry, baby.”

Her head nearly clipped my chin when she looked up at me, confusion on her face. “For what?”

“This is my fault.” I rubbed my hand down her arm. She felt so cold. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to get your mom back safely.”

“We.”

Now it was my turn to look confused. “What?”

“We, Dax. Not just you.” Her eyes narrowed. “We’re in this together. Remember?”

I wanted to tell her no, that this was something I needed to handle on my own, but this new step in our relationship was based on trust. Even if my reasons for wanting to keep her out of it were because I wanted to keep her safe, I knew I couldn’t just tell her what to do. She might enjoy me being in charge when it came to sex, but she was independent enough that I knew she’d be pissed if I tried to order her around outside the bedroom.

I tucked a curl behind her ear, then twisted another around my finger. She had gorgeous hair, the color of burnished bronze. Soft skin. Kissable lips. One of those little frown lines between her eyebrows…

Fuck.

I refused to let anything happen to her or her mom. I couldn’t bear the thought of her getting hurt like that because of me.

“I’ll go to the cops,” I said.

“Won’t he hurt–?”

I shook my head. “He never said anything about not involving the cops because he’d never expect me to do that.”

Understanding dawned on her face. “Because if you went to them, they’d want to know why Booker took my mom and what he’s asking for in return. Cocaine.”

I nodded. “I didn’t steal anything, and I’ve never actually been involved in any of the shady shit they pull. I’ll be okay.”

She shook her head, her fingers digging into my arms. “You don’t know that. They could decide to make an example out of you. It happens all the time. Guilt by association. That kind of shit.”

A fresh wave of love washed over me. Her mom had been kidnapped by a gang leader, and she was worried about what would happen to me if I went to the cops.

“Are you sure he even has her?” she asked, hope springing into her eyes. “He could be lying.”

I took a deep breath. “He’s not.” I reached over and picked up my phone. “I wasn’t hiding this from you. Just waiting until the shock had settled.”

I opened the picture Booker had sent me and tightened my arm around Bryne as I handed her my phone. She made a soft sound that cut straight through me as she saw her mom tied to a chair, a copy of Sunday’s paper resting on her lap. I’d only met Allison Dawkins once, but she’d been polished and poised, the sort of woman who appeared to live and breathe class. In the picture, she didn’t look hurt, but she’d definitely fought. Her hair, the same color as Bryne’s, was a total mess, and her pantsuit was dirty and torn. She looked pissed, and that made the resemblance to her daughter even more pronounced.

“Booker said he hasn’t hurt her,” I said quietly.

A tear escaped at last, and I brushed it away, wishing I could erase her pain as easily. I’d known pain, physical and emotional, but nothing like this. Seeing her hurting like this was horrible enough, but the helplessness and guilt that came with it was almost more than I could take.

But I’d take it because she needed me. I’d done this to her, and I had to fix it. No matter what it meant for me.

“I won’t let anything happen to your mom. I’m going to get her back, safe and sound, and no one’s ever going to come after either one of you again.”

The protectiveness I’d felt for her before was nothing compared to this. I’d do anything for Bryne. Die for her. Kill for her. I didn’t care what happened to me, as long as she was safe.

Booker had no idea what he’d gotten himself into when he took Allison, but he’d figure it out soon enough. Whatever it took, I’d make things right.

Excerpt Collide 4

Chapter 1

Dax

Getting shot hurt like a motherfucker.

On some level, I’d always known that it would. It wasn’t like I ever thought it would tickle, but there was a huge difference between knowing it and experiencing it.

Huge. Difference.

I’d grown up in Hell’s Kitchen. Got into my fair share of fights as a kid and as an adult. Most of the people I surrounded myself with had spent time in juvie or prison, usually both. They fought with their fists, knives, pipes, and whatever the hell else was lying around. Most of them carried guns, but I didn’t. Having a gun meant charges were always worse. Better not to get caught at all, but playing it smart was always a good idea.

Except I hadn’t played it smart tonight, and now I was paying for it.

I couldn’t figure out where things had gone wrong, but I knew that wasn’t the most important thing right now. Definitely not what I needed to be focusing on. I needed to get the hell out of here.

If I could only remember where here was. My brain was so scrambled that, for a moment, I thought I’d gotten shot in the head, and this was what happened right before a person died. No life flashing before my eyes kind of shit, but rather a complete loss of everything that had made up my life.

Fuck that.

I wasn’t going to let some punk end me. Not when I had people counting on me.

Mom.

Just thinking of her, fired another shot of adrenaline through my system, causing me to groan, not from pain, but fear. She couldn’t lose me. Sure, she had friends, but I was her only family. I took care of her, and if I was gone, she wouldn’t have that. Plus, it would break her to know I’d fallen so completely from everything she believed in.

Sure, Carrie and Gavin might help, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Carrie.

Gavin.

Bryne.

Shit.

I had to get moving. Booker had threatened to hurt Bryne if I didn’t help the gang with a job. I’d always managed to keep my nose clean when it came to the shady shit, but with Mom getting hurt at work and medical bills piling up, the risk had seemed worth it, and I’d actually considered putting my neck on the line. Then, when I wanted to back out, Booker had used Bryne against me.

If anyone was the definition of innocent, it was her. Hell, she wasn’t even twenty yet. She didn’t need to get caught up in this shit. I’d tried to end it, to walk away, but I kept coming back to her. I’d been straight with her from the beginning, told her I didn’t do relationships, and she hadn’t argued. In fact, she agreed. But she’d done something to me, gotten under my skin, and I couldn’t stay away.

It was the memory of leaving her lying in her bed, smelling of sex and me, that got my brain working again. Lips swollen, bronze curls tangled. Green eyes dark with desire. Her hard nipples visible through the thin cotton sheets.

I left her there because I was supposed to go to Jersey with the guys to rip off five hundred kilos of coke. So I’d gone to the shop.

Right. The shop. That’s where I was. Outside the shop.

And suddenly I could feel the hard pavement under me, the icy January wind biting my skin.

I was outside because the door had been locked. I’d been early too. Standing around waiting, trying to figure out what I was going to do. Then someone had shown up, but it hadn’t been any of the guys.

Julius.

Right. The son of a bitch drug dealer from Jersey who’d inspired his cousin, Booker, to start moving cocaine through the shop. It was Julius’s supplier who we were supposed to be stealing from, and I was pretty sure Julius had been the one who shot me.

Even though it felt like an eternity had passed, as the rest of my senses started coming back to me, I realized it’d only been a minute or so since it happened. My side was burning, but the pain had been covered in layers of adrenaline. I could think again, function.

And I needed to get the hell out of here.

I was still lying on the pavement, which meant Julius hadn’t finished me off yet. I didn’t know if it was because he didn’t want to waste another bullet or some other reason, but I wasn’t going to let him know I was still alive until absolutely necessary.

So I listened.

“I told you to wait for my signal.”

A man’s voice. Annoyed, but still in control. I didn’t know who he was talking to, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that there were at least two people here, maybe more. I was pretty sure the guy talking was Julius, which meant he wasn’t the one who shot me.

All he seemed to care about, though, was that the shooter hadn’t waited for the go ahead. Which meant Julius had wanted me dead. The timetable was the only thing that hadn’t gone according to plan.

I really needed to get out of here.

I listened harder, trying to figure out where Julius and the shooter were standing.

“If you killed him, I’m going to do to you everything I had planned for him.”

Torture first, then death. That had been the plan.

Perfect.

I risked opening my eyes, then winced as sweat dripped into them. No, not sweat. I wasn’t hot, and the liquid was. Blood. And now that I thought about it, I did have a dull, throbbing ache in my forehead. I must’ve hit my head when I fell.

I opened my eyes again, squinting as they began to water. I wanted to wipe them, but I was pretty sure I had blood on at least one of my hands thanks to the wound in my side. It wasn’t gushing, but there was more than I was comfortable losing.

Whoever Julius was talking to gave an answer, but the voice was too low for me to make out the words, or even identify who was speaking.

“This is your mess,” Julius said. “Finish him and then we’ll go have a talk with my cousin.”

The shooter said something else, but I still couldn’t hear it.

“Enough!” Julius snapped. “It’s not my fault you fucked up. I don’t care why you did it. Just fix it.”

I could see them now, or rather, see their outlines in the shadows. The shooter was shorter than Julius but bundled up enough that I couldn’t tell if the asshole was a man or a woman. While I wanted to know who it was, I was glad they were several yards away. It put more distance between them and me, which meant I just might make it out of here alive.

Now I just needed to figure out how to put more distance between us. I’d been pacing the space for a while before Julius showed up, so now I racked my brain to try to remember what I’d seen around me before I was shot. It was easier than I thought.

Nothing.

A whole shitload of nothing.

Which meant I couldn’t hide behind a car or even a fucking trashcan unless I made it down to the Exotic Ladies’ Club. And I couldn’t go inside any buildings without either breaking in…or going to the Exotic Ladies’ Club.

All of that meant that once I ran, I had to go in the opposite direction because there was no way Julius would ever think I’d do something as stupid as not go for the easiest place to hide.

Suddenly, rapid-fire gunshots cut through the night, and I stopped thinking. As Julius and the shooter turned toward the sounds, I jumped up and ran. Pain laced through my side, and fresh blood soaked into my shirt. I pressed my hand to my side as I tried to gain traction on the pavement that was slick with my blood. I didn’t look back, didn’t second-guess my choice.

I just ran.

I was a few feet down the sidewalk when I heard a shout behind me. Shit. I didn’t even slow down. I wasn’t that stupid.

A sharp crack filled the air and then a chip of brick nicked my cheek as a bullet hit the building I passed.

Shit!

I rubbed the back of my hand across my forehead as blood dripped down into my eye, but I didn’t slow down. I could hear people running after me, but no more gunshots. Contrary to what action films and cop shows would have people believe, shooting a gun at a moving target while running wasn’t exactly easy.

I cut a sharp turn left, nearly lost my balance, stumbled a couple steps, then kept going. The alley was nearly black, but I knew it well enough to know where it led. I’d grown up on these streets, spent years moving through them, running from bullies, or running after someone myself.

Twenty-five feet to the fence, then through the cut in the links that had never been repaired. Another twenty-five feet and I came out the other side. I went right, made it a few yards down the sidewalk…and slipped on a patch of ice.

I twisted as I fell, let my hip take the brunt of it. I put my hand down, leaving a bloody print as I pushed myself up. The adrenaline that had been fueling me was starting to ebb, and I knew I had to get someplace safe soon.

My entire left side felt like it was on fire, and each step was excruciating, but I kept running. It wasn’t just my life I was running for. I was running for my mother, for Bryne, for a life I hadn’t even realized I wanted until now.

I turned down another alley, ducked through a side door that hadn’t been latched in about fifteen years, cut through the abandoned storehouse, and came out behind the local hardware store. A couple more feet and I ducked into yet another alley, finally allowing myself to stop.

I leaned against the wall, each breath an agony. I couldn’t hear anyone pursuing me anymore, but that didn’t mean I was safe.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent off a text to my mother. She needed to get somewhere safe until I figured out what had actually happened, and what I was going to do about it. I couldn’t get her involved in the middle of this.

As soon as I sent it, I closed my eyes to keep my head from swimming. I couldn’t stay out here, and I couldn’t go home. I knew my mom would do as I asked, but I still didn’t want to lead Julius or anyone else back there. Normally, if I needed some place to crash, I would’ve gone to Force. He was in Booker’s gang but was a decent guy. More or less. But I couldn’t trust anyone right now.

And that’s when I realized I did have one place I could be safe. One person I could trust.

Excerpt SEALionaire 3

Chapter 1

Olivia

 

Seeing Cherise and Russel Harris together didn’t exactly do wonderful things for my mood or my sanity, but I didn’t have time to deal with their bullshit tonight. James needed me.

He was getting tired too easily these days.

An ache tried to settle in my throat, but I shoved it aside. I could cry and get maudlin and sad later, when I wasn’t dealing with a cutthroat bitch and her flying monkey.

Or witch…

I smirked, amusing myself as I pictured Cherise a lovely shade of green.

The smile faded, and fast, as she lifted a hand from her side.

“It’s time to be done with you, darling,” she said.

I recognized the gun. It was a Clarion CR12, similar to the Glock 19. It was too big for her hand, but she didn’t seem fazed by that fact.

“You know, if you want to get more involved in the tactical side of Clarion Arms, I can help. That pistol is too big for you.” I kept my voice neutral as I slowly lifted my eyes to hers. “We have smaller handguns. You even talked about how cute they were at the board meeting last year, remember?”

“Yes.” She flashed a toothy smile at me. “And you shot down the idea of creating a designer line.”

“Weapons aren’t toys,” I said flatly. “They don’t need to look like them.”

She waved what certainly wasn’t a toy at me. “Oh, never mind that. That’s far from my concern now, but I’ll get back to that idea sooner or later…once I’m in control.”

“You?” I fought the urge to laugh. “James would sooner leave Clarion in the hands of a gorilla than you. The gorilla has more sense.”

Tiny lines fanned out from her eyes, but the anger I’d hoped to incite didn’t rouse. Damn it. Sweat beaded along the back of my neck, slid down the inside of my dress.

“Do shut up, Olivia. You’ve been a pain in the ass since day one.”

“The feeling is mutual.” I heard noises and was vaguely aware that there were others in the small clearing near the center of the maze. But I didn’t dare look away from her – or the Clarion CR12. “You do realize that I’m not the real problem, right? James has named his son as the one who’ll take over, and the cops will look long and hard at everybody on the board if something happens to him.”

“Oh, something will.” She laughed brightly. “He’s going to jail for killing you, Olivia. He’s already gotten himself into so much trouble. That was considerate of him to sow the seeds there.”

“Killing…” I licked my lips, fought to keep my teeth from chattering. “You plan on killing me and framing him?”

The gun didn’t so much as tremble. “You are quite bright. We just need him to get here.”

“You’re insane. And you’re an idiot.” Terror had my heart pounding like a mad thing, but I struggled to stay in control. I had to think. I didn’t believe for a second that what she was saying would work, but personally, I was fond of life and knew better than to rely on hope as a strategy.

“We have witnesses, darling.”

Off to the side, I heard a low grunt, a noise. Too low for them to hear. Cherise didn’t look away from my face, but she did speak to Russel. “Where is he? We need him here for this to work.”

“I’ve already tried calling him several times. I texted him and said it was urgent – an emergency,” Russel said, his voice a near whine.

“Go get him,” Cherise hissed. “You need this as much as I do, remember?”

As he backed away, I shot a look at his face, but he was too busy staring at his feet. I sucked in a breath, swinging my gaze back to Cherise. If I screamed, would anybody hear?

The party was loud, and the house was too far away.

“Hillsworth,” Cherise said softly just as a twig snapped beside me.

A shadow separated itself from the hedges and came to stand in front of me.

The man was big, so big he all but blotted out the carefully placed lights that dotted the hedge maze.

The sight of the gun in Cherise’s hand had scared me, yes. Terrified me, even.

But the sight of this man did more than terrify me. His eyes were dead. Cold and dead. A few seconds ago, I’d been methodically thinking about what I needed to do to survive – and I hadn’t really even doubted it. I mean, Cherise trying to kill me? She was malicious enough, I didn’t question that. But she was also afraid of spiders and mice and blood. An assistant had cut a finger once, and she’d all but passed out.

I could handle somebody who got weak-kneed at the sight of blood.

This man probably finger-painted with it.

Everything in me screamed to back up and run, but common sense told me to be smart. You didn’t run from predators.

So even when he took a step closer, I didn’t let myself back up. I slowed my breathing and paid attention to everything. Watched. Listened. His muscles tensed just a fraction of a second before he moved.

I dropped, but it was only barely in time.

Kicking my shoes off would have saved a few seconds, but I hadn’t exactly come back here expecting to have somebody point a gun at my face or send a goon after me. Fortunately, I’d grown up living a life that prepared me for a lot of things, and I knew how to use everything to my advantage. A split second after I dropped, the shoes were off. I grabbed one of them and flipped it in my palm. As he bent to grab me, I drove the heel into his calf. Most shoe heels would have broken. My shoes were custom made and not just for looks.

James hadn’t just hired me to be his problem solver.

The first time he’d taken me to London, I’d gone as his assistant, and we’d been jumped in the parking garage. The policeman had stated in very cute, very crisp British tones that if I ever wanted a job, to just look him up. The two men had been on the ground, one moaning, his knee busted. The other had been red-faced and still struggling to breathe after I all but crushed his larynx.

Of course, my official title said nothing about the fact that I often acted as a bodyguard. All the extra training paid off, for now at least. I hit him with enough force to hurt before slamming my fist into his knee.

It buckled, and he toppled, swearing furiously.

I was still alive.

That was a good thing.

And I didn’t know how long that good thing would last.

The big bastard had a weapon of his own, and I knew he’d be faster, smarter than Cherise. I hadn’t broken his knee. He was already upright, and now he was pissed.

Slowly backing away from him, I weighed my options.

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” the big guy said.

Hillsworth. She’d called him Hillsworth.

“Oh, I’m going to make it plenty hard.” They had no idea how hard I planned on making things.

“Would you just get her and shut her up?” Cherise demanded, her voice a harsh whisper.

Russel was looking around awkwardly, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he looked guilty. Bastard. Son of a bitch. He should look guilty. He’d called me, told me to come here – set me up.

“It won’t work,” I said, lying through my teeth. “You need Adam here, right? Well, he headed out right as I was coming over here. Saw an old friend of his and they were going to go grab a drink or two. This…socializing thing isn’t his milieu.”

The man in front of me didn’t pay attention to a single word I said. Russel squawked though. “See? We need to just call this off. It won’t work. You heard her.”

“She’s lying,” Cherise said.

But I could feel her watching me, looking for some sign to assure herself that she was right. She wasn’t going to find one. I could lie far too well, even for my own comfort.

Lifting a shoulder, I said, “Apparently you didn’t see how uncomfortable he was. When he ran into his friend, he practically leaped at the chance to blow this joint.” For added effect, I muttered, “Asshole.”

That caught Cherise’s attention.

As I eased back a few more inches, Hillsworth took another step toward me. I was more than a little pleased to see he was limping.

“Hillsworth?” she asked, the question in her voice obvious.

“We’ll take her alive, wait for him. We can still make it work,” he said, a slow smile curling his lips. “I told you there might be a need to improvise. The price will go up.”

The dick was standing there talking about killing me the same way some people might discuss buying a car.

Swallowing, I backed up a bit more.

I was almost to the gap in the hedges. I knew this maze. I’d spent a lot of time in this garden.

I could run.

Almost there…

He lunged.

 

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Excerpt Sealionaire 2

Chapter 1

Olivia

 

Standing on the balcony, I stared out into the night.

It was late summer, and the sweltering, muggy heat was giving way to the promise of the coming fall. At least it was at one in the morning.

I couldn’t sleep.

I’d had a lot of trouble with that lately.

Although maybe lately wasn’t entirely accurate. It wasn’t like it had just started in the past week, or even the past two or three.

No, it had started almost two months ago, ever since a highly decorated Navy officer had emerged to escort Adam Dedman away from the cemetery.

From his mother’s funeral.

If I wanted, I could still work up a temper over that.

James, of course, told me there was no point in getting angry. Things had to work themselves out. I wasn’t so good at being calm these days.

My phone chirped, and I picked it up to check the message, putting it down just as quick. I used to set it to do not disturb at night, but for the past few weeks, it hadn’t been an option.

Elise wasn’t doing so well.

She was running out of time, and soon, James would be forced to bring hospice in. When they came, I’d move back into my bedroom out at the estate. He’d assured me it was my home, and I was welcome whenever I wanted to be there.

I’d almost asked him about after.

But things were hard enough on him now, hard enough on all of us. I didn’t need to make anything more difficult.

The message was from Tom, a lawyer at a firm that had consulted with the boss recently. We didn’t use their firm, of course. I made it a policy not to have personal relationships with anyone I might have to interact with on a professional level. It got too messy. But Tom worked within a different department, and we probably wouldn’t work together even if we did hire his firm in the future.

He was attractive, he’d been interested, and I’d been…lonely.

When we bumped into each other at a benefit a week ago, I’d been stupid when he asked me out for drinks. Stupid and lonely, and I’d said yes.

Two hours ago, we were sitting at a beautiful, elegant restaurant perched high on a hill overlooking the Ohio.

One hour ago, he left me at my front door.

Now, he was texting me, asking if I was sure everything was alright.

 

You seemed a million miles away. I just want to make sure there’s nothing I can do to help with whatever is bothering you.

 

He was wrong. I wasn’t a million miles away.

I hadn’t checked the mileage to Coronado, California – I wasn’t that desperate. Yet. But that was where my problem was. Or at least, that’s where he was the last time he bothered to call.

When he told me not to bother calling again.

“My life is fucked up enough as it is, O,” he’d told me, his voice rough, the words barely audible over the line. “I’m sorry, but whatever James Clarion wants from me, he’s just shit out of luck. I can barely handle myself right now, much less anything else.”

I texted Tom.

 

I’m not a million miles away exactly, but I do have a lot going on. Too much, and I’m afraid now isn’t a good time to get involved in any new personal relationships. I’m sorry.

 

I doubted I’d hear back.

He surprised me though.

 

I understand. If you ever want to get together just to talk or have a drink, let me know.

 

I almost deleted his number from my phone. He was blond, blue-eyed, and about as far from Adam as he could be.

But I didn’t.

Sooner or later, I’d get it through my head that Adam wasn’t coming back and then maybe I’d do just that, give him a call.

Maybe.

But I doubted it.

* * * * *

“What will you do if he doesn’t come back by the time…” My heart squeezed, and I let the rest of the words trail off because I simply didn’t want to contemplate it.

James looked up from the grapefruit he’d been eating with great reluctance. I didn’t see why he hated it. I loved grapefruit. But I’d spent too much of my life eating stale cereal or plain oatmeal, and before that, it had been whatever I could get my hands on. Fresh fruit to me was just as good as candy.

“I’ve got everything planned out, Olivia. You’ll be taken care of regardless, so don’t worry.”

Annoyed, I snapped a napkin into my lap and took the untouched other half, adding it to the bacon and eggs on my plate. “I’m not worried,” I said. Frowning, I pointed out, “You realize you’ve already given me more than enough. You’re not obligated to do anything more.”

“No, but I want to.” The smile he gave me was full of love, and it made my heart hurt. Then he waved a fork around. “Besides, I hate loose ends. You know that. You’re meeting the board today, don’t forget.”

“How could I?” I muttered at my plate, but he heard me nonetheless. “It’s like forgetting a meeting with the board of the directors of hell.”

“Well, I am the CEO of one of the top defense contractors in the country. It wouldn’t do for the board to be made of a bunch of puppies and kittens, would it?” He finished off his grapefruit with a wrinkled nose.

“Does that mean you have to have hellhounds and wild hyenas?” I took a sip of my coffee and watched as he tried not to laugh.

“It’s a good thing I selected a mean bitch to take over for me then, isn’t it?”

I looked away. “He might still change his mind.”

“And they won’t accept him right away. You’re still the majority stockholder as of now. If things change…” He waved a hand and then glanced at the clock on the wall. “I believe I’ll take the rest of my breakfast and sit with the queen for a few minutes.”

“Don’t let her hear you calling her that,” I advised him. I was the only one who got away with it without getting her death glare, a fact that pleased me to no end.

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

* * * * *

The past six weeks had brought more changes than I liked.

The first had started off when I went with James to a visit to his doctor. He’d told me it was so we could discuss business matters on the way, but I knew the real reason.

He wanted moral support.

He wanted to not be alone as we waited for the doctor to come in and tell us the results.

And I didn’t want him to be alone either.

I would have sat there in the waiting room holding his hand if he would have allowed it. But he wouldn’t, not with the ubiquitous bodyguards in the waiting room as well.

They went everywhere with him.

He’d told me I’d need to get used to having a pair with me, but I wouldn’t, not until I had to.

For the most part, they went everywhere he did, although on rare occasions, like the day of the funeral or the day he’d come to see Adam at his house, he could convince them to wait in the car.

But the doctor’s office wasn’t one of them, and it wasn’t until we were in the room with Hank and Oscar on the outside that I’d taken his hand.

I could still remember how frail he’d felt.

Frail. It wasn’t a word I associated with James.

Now, I was the one who needed it. I would have been happier if I hadn’t finally acknowledged his point when he said, “They expect to see something specific when they look at the head of the table, Olivia. You don’t have to turn yourself into a china doll.”

I had shaken my head, giving him a little smile. “I never could.”

“No.” He laughed. “You couldn’t. You’re too powerful, too…commanding. So take advantage of that.”

On his advice, I found a personal shopper – actually, I found two. The first one had annoyed me, and I’d fired her.

The second one…well, I wasn’t sure he’d work out either, but he led me into his studio, walked around me, and asked me what I wanted. I’d told him what I didn’t want instead.

“The last shopper insisted we find a way to soften my appearance,” I told him, saying the words as if they tasted bad. “A makeover, blah blah blah.”

He laughed.

“Honey, we don’t want to soften a damn thing about you. You’re an empress. The whole world should bow down.” Then he winked. “History paints Cleopatra as this famed beauty, you know that? But she probably wasn’t. She was powerful…and she knew her strengths. I bet you do too. So we’ll learn to play up those strengths. And sweetheart, you have them in spades.”

All my boring, safe clothes had been relocated to another room so I wouldn’t be tempted to drag them back out.

Today, I wore a sleeveless surplus blouse that played up my upper body and made up for the fact that my breasts weren’t all that impressive while the high-waisted, full-cut trousers made my legs endless.

No. I didn’t look soft or beautiful, but I did cut an impressive figure apparently because several heads turned as I strode across the glass breezeway to enter the boardroom. James was already there. He’d told me to arrive seven minutes late – seven minutes, no more, no less. Several board members liked to arrive a few minutes later as a power play, and he wasn’t going to have me waiting on them, not for this.

Make an entrance, O.

That’s what I planned to do.

I didn’t have any papers with me.

I didn’t have any notes.

Everything James and I had planned was already engraved in my brain.

But my throat was dry, and my heart was racing.

The doors opened with a quiet swish, and I stepped inside, my low heels clicking on the strip of marble, announcing my entrance.

A few eyes flicked my way before moving off.

Then they returned, and one by one, every board member turned to look at me.

“Well, it’s about time you grace us with your presence, O.”

I glanced over at Cherise Whitney – Elise’s sister. How I wished she’d sell her shares and move to Italy or France or some other country – she was always jetting about. She sure as hell didn’t belong on the board.

Giving her a brilliant smile, I said, “I’m so sorry, Cherise. I stopped in to check on Elise on my way out this morning.”

Her face went red.

A few others made commiserating murmurs and asked James about his wife. As the small talk circled around, I moved to the coffee service. Cherise sat there, stewing.

The gloves were coming off today – officially – and she was about to find out.

Cherise was, to put it simply, a cold, calculating bitch and there was only one reason I hadn’t already gone head to head with her.

Okay, two.

The first reason was because I knew Elise adored her, and it would hurt Elise if she found out.

The second reason was because James asked me not to – she’s the entire reason I met Elise. If I hadn’t known her, I wouldn’t have known my wife, and my life would have turned out very different.

So he was kind to her even when she didn’t deserve it.

But I didn’t owe her any loyalties, and James already knew Cherise could only push me so far. The only reason she was on the board at all was because of the shares her former husband had left her. He had been James’s partner, and when he died, half of his shares went to her, the other half went back to James. That was part of the reason she hated him so much, I expect. She thought she’d have equal say in this business, but her husband had known her too well.

She didn’t have a head for running a business the size of Clarion. She only saw dollar signs. Clarion manufactured arms and worked in the defense industry – there had to be more than money to be a success in that world.

Turning back to the table, coffee in hand, I moved to my seat at James’s right hand.

He nodded at me and then stood.

“Many of you know Olivia…”

 

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Excerpt Sealionaire

Chapter 1

Reaper

 

Standing on the ridge, I stared out into the night.

“Reaper.”

I held up a fist, and he lapsed into silence while I continued to recon the desert stretching all around us.

Behind me, the rest of my squad, all members of Seal Team 3, were gathered while we tried to salvage a mission that had been fucked up from the beginning.

Fucked, rushed, and if I ever got my hands on the son of a bitch who had insisted–

Stop! I told myself. Getting pissed about it now wouldn’t do me or the squad any good.

“See anything out there?”

I looked over at the lieutenant and shook my head. Big and lean, he ran the show out in the field, and I knew he had to be taking it personally, every last thing that had gone wrong. But if he could stand there and not look like he wanted to rip one of the scraggy little excuses that passed for a tree up from the earth and beat something with it, then I’d hold my temper in too.

He told me once that if I could get my temper under control, I might one day step into his position. I told him, respectfully, that I’d sooner step into a river full of piranha – bleeding and buck naked with a red target on my dick.

He laughed at me and said he could see my obituary.

Adam Dedman, known to his friends as Reaper, chose death by piranha rather than command. Those who knew him best weren’t surprised.

Under all my gear, I was tired, hot, and pissed off, but I managed a level voice as I said, “Nothing but night. Sand.”

“Lots of sand.” He clapped me on the shoulder and went back to the others while I continued to keep watch.

One recon unit was a little farther out, patrolling. The extraction team was still an hour out, and if we got pinned down, we were fucked.

We might just be fucked anyway. The lieutenant – we all called him Dog, short for Bulldog – had been in contact with command, speaking in low, barely audible tones, but we all knew what he was doing. The extraction point would be almost impossible to reach in an hour.

Especially considering how fucked up things had gotten.

“Aw…fuck…” The last word was rasped out in a low, hoarse cry that was more whisper than scream, and it raised the hair on my arms. I didn’t let myself look away though.

That was my friend back there on the ground, getting his tibia set by the medic. Rake broke his leg when our hostage had tried to take off running. Of all the dumb luck. He’d grabbed her and hauled her back just as she was about to fall down into a cave, deep enough to do damage, as evidenced by Rake’s injury. She was saved, but he’d crashed down into the dark hole and now the squad was effectively handicapped.

“Easy, Rake.” I heard Duke’s soft, steady voice, the cadence of the Carolinas heavy in his words as he spoke to his patient. “Okay, buddy. It’s done. You with me? Come on, don’t pass out on me, you pussy–”

“Fuck off,” Rake said, his voice thin.

The retort made all of us smile a little. He was still solid. Rake couldn’t use any of the painkillers, not with us being this close to the hot zone and this close to being extracted. We needed to get his leg stabilized and get him back on the move.

A low, whimpering sob rose in the air. “You killed them,” the woman cried. “You killed all of them.”

It was the ninth – no, the tenth time. I was damn tired of it.

“Look, cupcake, it was them or us,” Ice growled at her. “And if we died, you were probably next.”

Ice, a cold son of a bitch, and while I might not disagree with his statement entirely, he didn’t need to antagonize the woman we’d extracted just hours before.

“Ice, why don’t you take over?” I called out.

He gave me a lazy smile. “I’d be delighted, Reaper.”

We swapped out positions and I settled down on the rock closest to the civilian we’d been sent to rescue, one Kylie Hudson-Wallace. Kylie was pretty much what passed for royalty in America, the daughter of a senator and a former movie star turned philanthropist. She’d been visiting the Middle East on a goodwill mission – or so we’d been told. Personally, I had some doubts and I don’t think I was the only one.

She’d been pretty damn cozy with the so-called kidnappers and had started screaming, not just in terror, but in rage when we hauled her butt out of there.

One of them had charged after us, fury in his eyes, and all of them had very real weapons they’d been more than happy to use. They were all dead now, although the group of ten we’d been expecting had been more like thirty. Not bad odds for us, but the entire time we’d been getting shitty intel, and we needed to know why.

“You’re going home,” I said bluntly, staring at her tear-stained face. Mascara and eye shadow had run to form a messy mask, but she was still beautiful. “Your mother and father are anxious to hear about you. In a few hours, this will all be over.”

She stared at me, her lower lip trembling. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out when I lifted my hand and pointed a finger at her.

“You’ve already reminded us that we killed them. Trust me, I know. That was the job.”

Her face transformed into a mask of fury, and she swung out. I caught her hand before she could make contact.

“Don’t try that again,” I said softly, deadly, meaning every word.

She jerked back, rubbing at her wrist and glaring at me with a look that might have worked on her parents back home.

Over her head, Dog was staring at me. I met his eyes only briefly, but in that look, we both shared an entire, unspoken conversation. Something was seriously fucked up here. The woman gets rescued, and you’d think she’d be happy, nearly gushing with gratitude. Instead, she tried to slap the hell out of me.

 

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Excerpt Club Privé: Collide 3

Chapter One

Bryne

I never considered myself to be one of those people who had a temper or made rash decisions. Even if something looked impulsive – say, losing my virginity to a guy I barely knew – chances were, I’d thought about it beforehand. And I didn’t get angry easily. Sometimes I snapped at people or raised my voice, but I wasn’t the sort of person prone to shouting matches or violence.

But right now, all I wanted to do was find Dax and hit him.

Hard.

When I’d woken up alone less than an hour ago, I wasn’t surprised or upset. That just seemed to be how he did things. If we were in some sort of relationship that extended past sex, it might’ve been an issue, but we weren’t, so it wasn’t. Then Carrie called to ask if I knew where Dax was because he hadn’t gone home last night.

Now, I was mentally cursing him as I pulled my curls back into a messy bun. Not only had he not gone back to his place, he wasn’t answering his phone or responding to any texts, and his mom was worried. And since I was the last person to see him, Carrie wanted to talk to me in person. Which meant I was about to meet Dax’s mother with wet hair while wearing yesterday’s clothes.

Needless to say, I wasn’t in the best of moods when I went out into the brutal cold to wait for my car. Carrie had already contacted the on-call family driver, but I still had to wait a couple minutes before he arrived. My teeth were chattering, and my hair felt like ice as I climbed into the backseat. As we began to move, I let myself start to think about all the things I’d pushed aside while I showered and dressed.

Things like Carrie and Dax’s mom being worried that he was in trouble. The sick feeling I got in my stomach when I thought about him not wanting to tell me about the mutual friend he and Cleo had gone to meet earlier this week. The gut reaction I had to his friends at the shop.

I didn’t know if Georgie or those other guys had anything to do with where Dax was or why he wasn’t taking his mother’s calls, but they were the first people I thought of when Carrie said that she was worried.

No, that was a lie. They weren’t the first who came to mind. Cleo was. They’d hooked up in the past, and no matter what he said to me about it being over, she clearly hadn’t accepted that. I didn’t want to consider her being a factor because I didn’t want to think that he could’ve gone with her willingly. At the same time, I seriously doubted she could’ve forced him. I didn’t see Dax being the kind of guy who got intimidated by a gun or knife.

Unless she hurt him, and the reason he wasn’t answering the phone was because he couldn’t.

I wasn’t sure which was worse. Thinking that he could’ve gone with her because he wanted to, or thinking that she’d hurt him badly enough that he was unable to answer his phone. I supposed he could’ve had another meeting that he didn’t want to talk about, but that wasn’t a good option either.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. I’d felt great when I woke up. Okay, a little sore considering the sex Dax and I had last night hadn’t been even close to gentle. My nipples were so sensitive that the pressure from my bra was almost painful, and the low throbbing between my legs reminded me both of how hard he’d driven into me, and how much I’d been stretched by his delicious cock.

“Dammit, Dax,” I muttered as I pulled out my phone to see if he’d responded to my voicemail or text. Still nothing. “Answer your damn phone.”

“Did you need something, miss?”

I jerked my head up, startled. I’d forgotten I wasn’t actually alone. While there was a partition that could separate the front from the back, providing some privacy, I hadn’t asked the driver to put it up, and now he was giving me a concerned look.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “How much longer?”

“About ten minutes,” he said. “It’s only a couple miles to Mrs. Manning’s office, but the traffic will cost us a few extra minutes.”

It was only now I realized that he wasn’t taking me home. While I fully intended to get my own place, I’d been in the city less than a month. Since my new-found uncle and his wife didn’t mind me using the guest room in their loft, I was taking my time deciding where I wanted to live.

I’d never been to Carrie’s office, and if the circumstances had been different, I would’ve been intrigued. As it was, I could barely manage basic curiosity about the place where my aunt was practicing law, despite how interesting I found the subject.

She was a divorce attorney before she and Gavin met. Now, she worked against human trafficking. I’d asked how she did that since she was a private lawyer and not a prosecutor like her friend Dena, and she’d explained that she dealt with the civil side of things. Getting solicitation charges overturned so former sex workers could apply for jobs without criminal records. Filing lawsuits against pimps and others who owned or used slaves in order to seize their assets and have them distributed among the victims. She occasionally did other types of lawsuits where people were being taken advantage of, often free of charge. I was already planning on discussing helping fund some of those cases with the inheritance my great-grandparents had left me but hadn’t had a chance yet.

If my life continued to be this crazy, I doubted free time was anywhere in my near future. While I was thrilled to be the romantic lead in an amazing off-Broadway production just weeks after moving here from DC, I couldn’t deny that everything was happening so fast that it was making my head spin.

And that wasn’t even taking the whole Dax thing into account.

“We’re here, Miss Bryne,” the driver said as the car came to a stop. “Would you like me to stay nearby to take you to rehearsal?”

Shit. Rehearsal. I’d completely forgotten about it. Fortunately, today was all about costume fitting, so I wasn’t missing anything this morning.

“I can come back at eleven-thirty if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” I said. “That would be great.”

I gave him a smile before I climbed out of the car, but my heart wasn’t really in it. Now that I was here, the reality of the situation was setting in. I wasn’t even sure how much I was supposed to be worrying. It wasn’t like he was my boyfriend. If I’d had a regular rehearsal today, I doubted I would’ve been able to call off or even arrive late.

That didn’t, however, mean that I would’ve been able to concentrate, so I was extra glad that I wasn’t expected to do anything today that required any sort of concentration. I was also pretty sure that I had the least complicated costume, which meant I shouldn’t have to be there too long. My limited experience with the theaters in DC had been enough to know that this wasn’t how practice schedules usually went, but I wasn’t going to complain. It made things a bit easier.

Well, as easy as this could be.

Since Carrie’s law practice consisted of only her, the office was fairly small but nice. When I walked inside, a petite, dark-haired woman was at the coffee maker. She turned and gave me a wide smile.

“You must be Bryne.” She held out a hand. “I’m Zoe Masters, Carrie’s assistant.” After we shook, she added, “Carrie’s waiting for you in her office.” She gestured toward the door directly behind her.

“Thank you.” I gave a light rap on the door, and it opened a moment later.

Carrie looked tired as she stepped aside to let me in, and I didn’t think it was the pregnancy. My guess was, the worried-looking woman sitting a couple feet away was the reason for my aunt’s exhaustion. Even without the obvious connection, I didn’t need Carrie to tell me that I was looking at Annabeth Prevot. Dax had the same dark hair and similar enough features for the relation to be obvious.

“Annabeth, this is my niece, Bryne.”

As she raised her head, I saw a pair of eyes that were a little bluer than Dax’s, but close enough to make my heart give a painful twist. She managed a weak smile.

“So you’re the girl who’s been spending so much time with my Dax.”

“I am.” I wondered how much he’d told her about me, but this wasn’t the time to ask. “You still haven’t heard from him?”

Annabeth shook her head. “It’s not like him.” She gave me a hard look. “I’m not naive. I know that Dax isn’t an angel. But he’s always been protective of me, especially since my accident.”

“Accident?” I asked, then remembered Carrie telling me about Dax’s mom getting hurt at work, then her company firing her.

“It’s a long story,” Annabeth continued. “But anyway, Dax has been great, taking care of me. That’s why it doesn’t make sense that he isn’t answering my calls or texts.”

I had to admit, she was right. It didn’t make sense when she put it all together like that. I’d seen how protective he was with me, and I knew his mother was way more important to him.

“So when you woke up this morning, Dax was gone?” Carrie asked.

The blood rushed to my face, and that earned a soft chuckle from both women.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Annabeth said with a better smile than she’d given me before. “I might be a mom, but I’m still a woman. I know how girls look at him, and I’m not foolish enough to think he doesn’t look back.”

“We were at a hotel last night, and he left before I woke up,” I said, not wanting to think about all of the women he’d looked back at. According to something Carrie had said once, he was five years older than me, and I was pretty sure he’d started having sex younger than nineteen, so there were definitely more women than I cared to count.

Annabeth’s expression said that she didn’t approve, but before I could worry that she was directing it at me, she said, “I taught him better than that.”

I wasn’t about to tell her that it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. I steered the subject in a different direction by bringing up what I hadn’t wanted to say over the phone. “Is it possible he’s with Cleo?”

Annabeth’s eyebrows shot up. “That girl who went to jail for assault?”

I tried not to let her see how much it hurt that she knew who Cleo was. Dax said they hadn’t been serious. Judging by the look Annabeth gave me, I wasn’t fooling anyone.

“The incident took place near the shop,” she explained. “I saw an article about it in the paper, and when I asked him, he told me he knew the girl. I thought she was in jail.”

“She got out a few weeks ago,” I said. “I actually met her very briefly. They went to see a mutual friend the other night. Could that be where Dax is?”

Annabeth let out a string of soft curses, and I saw the same intensity in her eyes that I’d seen in Dax’s, increasing the likeness between the two of them.

“Do you know something, Annabeth?” Carrie asked.

“No,” she said. “But if that girl is involved, it can’t be good.”

Well, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

 

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Excerpt Collide Club Privé 2

Chapter One

Dax

I’d gotten pretty good at lying, especially these last few years. My mom would’ve said I was a little too good if she’d known just how often I did it, but half the time, I did it to protect her. I tried not to lie too much to her face, but lying to myself was a different story. I told myself all sorts of shit so I’d do what needed to be done. I was pretty sure that wasn’t one of my lies. It had only been me and Mom my whole life, and since she got hurt, it’d been my job to take care of her.

Okay, so maybe I used that as an excuse not to get involved with anyone, but the truth was, once I fucked a woman, I really didn’t have any further use for her. I was sure some people considered me an asshole for having that attitude, but I always made sure the woman I was with knew that going in. I made sure she got off, and I never treated her like trash, which was more than some guys, but she knew the whole time it was only sex.

Bryne Dawkins hadn’t been any different. She wasn’t any different.

Dammit.

As I looked down at her, some small part of me called me out for lying. The lighting in the hotel room was dim, but I didn’t need bright light to be able to see her perfectly. Her bronze curls were soft against my skin, and it was all I could do not to run my fingers through them. Her eyes were closed, but I knew their exact shade of green. They’d haunted me from the moment I first saw them, the day she walked into DeMarco’s & Sons.

I told myself then that I just wanted to get hold of those soft curves, see what was hiding under those winter clothes. The moment I slid inside her though, I’d known once wouldn’t be enough. I tried to deny it, tried to tell myself that she was out of my league. Hell, I’d known that from the second she walked into the shop, but it hadn’t stopped me from wanting her. And getting her.

And she’d been nothing but trouble ever since.

Georgie, my buddy, had been pissed when I told him to back off, so when she turned up again, I’d behaved like an ass to drive her away. Then her aunt had fired me from Club Privé, which meant I lost the better half of my income. Confronting Bryne hadn’t done anything but confirm what I’d been trying to deny for days.

I still wanted her.

My stomach clenched as she shifted in her sleep, her naked body rubbing against mine. Fuck. Even after having her again, I wanted nothing more than to bury my face between her legs until she woke up calling out my name, then see how many more times I could make her come on my cock.

Except that would be a bad idea, and no amount of lying to myself would change the truth of that.

Bryne wasn’t naive, but she was definitely innocent. Hell, I could almost taste it on her. This city could chew up and spit out girls like her, and it would happen even faster if she was near me.

I forced myself from the bed, careful not to wake Bryne as I did. I wouldn’t be able to leave if she woke up. One look from her, and I’d have a condom on and be inside her before either of us could think about why it was a bad idea.

Grabbing up my clothes, I crept out into the living room to dress. I should’ve left as soon as I wasn’t bare-ass naked, but even as I took a step toward the door, I remembered what it had been like to walk out that first time, the way my heart had twisted at the expression on Bryne’s face when I’d given her those flippant lines.

I couldn’t do that to her again. No matter how many lies I told myself about what I wanted or didn’t want, that was one thing I couldn’t lie about. Hurting her hurt me.

And I knew if I ever wanted to see her again, I couldn’t just go. I had to let her know I wasn’t blowing her off.

My eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness that I was able to make my way over to the hotel desk. I found a piece of paper and pen easily enough. Before I could second guess myself, I jotted down a quick invitation to dinner and hoped she would take it.

I could’ve left the note anywhere, but I made myself walk back into the bedroom and put it on the side of the bed where I’d been sleeping so she wouldn’t miss it. I didn’t want her waking up and thinking I’d left her without a second thought. Hell, she was in all my thoughts pretty much all the time. I’d been a walking hard-on since I met her and fucking her hadn’t helped. I was already half-hard by the time I got on the elevator.

I ignored the surprised look the desk clerk sent my way as I walked through the lobby. I didn’t need some condescending prick to tell me I didn’t look like I belonged there. A shiver went through me as I stepped outside, and I hunched my shoulders, trying to bury myself deeper in my coat. I hadn’t paid much attention last night to where I was, so it took me a moment to catch my bearings before deciding that I could make it to the subway without freezing my ass off. I tried to avoid spending money on taxis, but sometimes it was just too damn cold to do it any other way.

I blew on my hands as I jogged down the steps, then fished my metro card out of my wallet. My mom insisted on me having one, and I used it often enough to keep her from suspecting how many times I hopped a turnstile rather than pay.

A pang of guilt went through me at the thought of my mom. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep with Bryne, but the lack of sleep I’d had every night since meeting her was taking its toll. Add that into the fact that I’d basically been working two jobs non-stop for the last year, and it wasn’t really surprising that I’d fallen asleep.

I doubted Mom would even be annoyed that I hadn’t called. I’d be home before she woke up anyway. And she was always good about not pushing to know what I was out doing. She just wanted me to take care of myself.

I frowned as I took a seat. I was twenty-four years old. My mother didn’t need to be thinking about how to take care of me, especially not after the year she’d gone through. She’d raised me all by herself, and I was the first to admit that I hadn’t made it easy on her. I’d tried to stay away from the worst of things, despite how much pressure I’d gotten from Georgie and the guys to take part in the less-than-legal things that went on in the shop, but I couldn’t say that I’d been a good kid. Not by a long-shot.

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. Not for the first time, I wondered how different things would’ve been if my father had stuck around. Then again, for all I knew, things would’ve been worse. He could’ve been a complete asshole. Abusive. Alcoholic. A whole other list of things that was worse than absent.

I’d given up asking about him a long time ago. My birth certificate simply said unknown, but Mom always insisted she knew who he was. When I’d nagged her about it as a child, she’d only said that circumstances had prevented him from being a part of my life. Sometimes, I thought she meant that he died, but most of the time, I just figured he was married.

Or he simply hadn’t wanted me.

I glowered at a punk teenager who tripped over my foot and swore at me. The kid flipped me off but hurried away before I could get up and teach him some respect.

I pushed myself to my feet as the first of my two changes came up. Mom and I lived in Hell’s Kitchen, not too far from DeMarco’s & Sons, and not too far from Club Privé either, but the hotel Bryne and I had gone to was on the opposite side of Manhattan. Still, I wouldn’t complain. Sex with Bryne was worth every minute, and more. I didn’t know how much experience she had, but she was definitely one of the best lays I’d ever had under me.

My stomach twisted with some unfamiliar sensation, and it took me a moment to realize that it was jealousy. I didn’t like thinking about how Bryne had gotten so good in bed.

Shit.

I needed to get myself under control. I couldn’t be jealous because we weren’t in a relationship. We could be friends. Maybe have sex when we felt like it. But nothing else. I couldn’t do it.

Besides, she deserved better than me.

 

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