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A man with darkness in his heart who is pushed to the brink, but craves his woman and wants her pregnant? That’s a story I want to explore.
Cullan Grant, serial killer daddy, and his sweet Elena.
Soft Tissue Damage has a twenty-year age gap, birth control tampering, forced breeding, blood, violence, obsession, manipulation, primal play, and daddy vibes. Cullan is the other man, and it’s his mission to possess Elena.
This book includes appearances from Tyrant and Vivienne Mercer from Fear Me, Love Me. Tyrant and Cullan are close friends. Soft Tissue Damage is set after the events of Fear Me, Love Me, and it’s a standalone.
“You’re going to be drawing hearts around my name in your diary like a lovestruck fucking schoolgirl when I tell you about it. But first I need to eat. What’s good here?”
“No idea. This place was your idea.”
Her eyes are sparkling blue, and she’s pretty in the way a woman is really fucking pretty when you’re freshly divorced and have been doing without for two years. Or maybe she’s just really fucking pretty.
“To your marriage and being a father. How many kids is it now? Two, three?” A smile tilts his lips. “Two. Barlow and Huck. They’re both perfect, like their mother.”
“Not crazy like their father?”
“Handsome like their father. How a...
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“Leon’s in college, and he’s doing so well. That boy is whip-smart with figures. And Rosie’s pick...
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I became a father for the second time at forty. Rosie was the result of her mother and I trying to reconcile one last time. It didn’t work, but I’m the father of the most beautiful fourteen-month-old girl in the world. The attempted reconciliation was a mistake, but I do...
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“Considering a vasectomy?” Mercer frowns like I’ve insulted him. “Fuck no. I’m nowhere near done getting Vivienne pregnant.”
I fall headfirst into a daydream about fucking her with the single-minded intention of making her come and getting her pregnant. Hearing her cries of pleasure and feeling her nails in my back. My cock pushed up tight inside of her as I burst apart.
Am I just horny? Is this conversation giving me baby fever? Maybe it’s a combination of both.
my ex-wife’s voice is ringing in my ears telling me I should focus on things in my own home before I try to fix everyone else’s problems.
The nape of my neck prickles in annoyance. I like fixing people’s problems, but her binge drinking wasn’t something that either of us could fix. She didn’t want it fixed.
At a shade over six-foot-seven, I’m taller than just about everyone I meet.
Elena doesn’t come up to the middle of my chest. I could engulf her wrist in my fist.
The tan sweater I’m wearing was chosen because it says security professional and dad of two. Even my ex never suspected what I really do.
“I own a home security business.” Security for dangerous assholes like Mercer. “Installation and security consultations.” Consulting with criminals about how best to break into some of the most secure buildings in the country. And I know how to charge for my work.
Mercer’s custom security system in his home and insane hedge maz...
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“Anyone ever tell you it’s not healthy to hold grudges?”
“Says the man who killed his father.”
“You’ve got the right look for a successful serial killer. It’s always the ones you least expect. Cullan Grant, a killer? But he’s a family man. Always keeps to himself. Yada yada.”
“You’re fucking irritating today. Do you want to go on my list?”
My son holds Rosie like she’s a bomb about to detonate,
He leans forward and pats my cheeks. “Look at that. I’ve put a smile on your pretty face.”
“I’m here to meet my girlfriend.” He points across the restaurant. Right at Elena.
I look at my son. I glare at him for so long that he gives me a confused look. “What?” “I know you heard that.” For a moment he’s still puzzled, and then he glances at the table behind me.
I’m doing what my son should be doing. I flick the man closest to me on the back of his head.
Mercer has his arms resting on the back of his booth and he’s wearing the least friendly expression I think I’ve ever seen as he glares at the men.
“And that’s how you do it,” Mercer says to my son. “I’m supposed to threaten anyone who makes a dumb joke to my girlfriend?” “You’re supposed to do something,” I tell Leon.
“Do you see blood anywhere? Did your father raise his voice? Cullan was very fucking reasonable. Do you want to know what I did to an idiot who splashed my sister with puddle water because he thought it was funny?”
“Your girlfriend is kind and beautiful and a hard worker,” I tell him, when Elena is out of earshot. “She’s a rare diamond. Appreciate what you have before someone else does.”
She would look beautiful fast asleep and naked in my bed, exhausted after I’ve fucked her for several hours. But she’d look stunning with fear flickering in those doll eyes, her lips parted as she breathed fast, a glow of cold sweat on her brow. I wouldn’t hurt her, but the dangerous heat in my chest tells me how sweet it would be to play with her a little.
There’s a couple with a fussy baby a few tables down. Elena has picked the baby up and is making her smile with the pink feathery pom-pom that’s stuck to the end of her pen. There’s a beautiful smile on Elena’s face as well. I lean back in my seat and watch her cuddle the baby. How bright and animated her eyes look. My daughter Rosie would love her.
“I’m a concerned citizen. Very fucking concerned. You haven’t been paying your workers what they deserve. Either you go back into your diner and fix it, or I’ll cause you an incredible amount of pain today, tomorrow, and for the rest of your life.”
A thrill goes through me. A little bit of violence, and I’ve made Elena’s world better.
“Just surprised, that’s all. I guess my guardian angel is watching over me today.”
“You can just say it here and get it over with.” I frown at her. “Say what?” Her eyes cut away from me, and she mutters, “That I’m not good enough for your son.”
“Ma’am, I’m a good Southern working man. Driving a truck is in my blood, no matter how many decades I’ve spent in the Pacific Northwest. I make a mean fried chicken, and I like my iced tea sweet.”
“Mr. Grant, are you a paranoid, overprotective father?” she asks in a way that tells me she would like it if I said yes. “Me? Never.”
It’s a two-story Georgian revival with six bedrooms, white columns, high ceilings, and tall Palladian windows. There’s a twelve-foot gate out front and a high fence encircling the property.
“She looks just like you. Are her eyes hazel?” “They are. And she’s stubborn like me, but a whole lot sweeter. I need a babysitter overnight once or twice a week at short notice. Is that something you’d be interested in?”
Leon and I, well we’ve only just started dating, and we don’t, I mean…” She breaks off, and her flush deepens. They’re not sleeping together? Interesting.
Tyrant: You’ve still got it, baby. Cullan: Are you happy I’m out here living my best life? Tyrant: One of us. One of us.
Tyrant: Promise me that if you get married again, you’ll fucking tell her what you do.
woman who knows about my dark side, and she’ll still marry me? That would be the dream.
She smells like apricots. I shouldn’t be enjoying holding another man’s woman in my arms, especially when that woman is dating my son, but the night’s heart-pumping, adrenaline-filled events have made me feel powerful. Reckless. Like I can have anything I want.
