by Logan Chance
But, I play along.
Gabriel exits the limo first, holding his hand out to me. I touch his hand, the same hand I was grinding against not even minutes before, and exit the limo, pulling at the end of my dress to lengthen it a bit.
Janet and Brittany are damn good at their job. I was so confident in my selection, until Gabriel knocked on my door.
When I first opened my bedroom door for him, it felt like he wanted to lick my dress off with his tongue. I guess he’s just one of those people, the type with deceiving eyes. The kind with eyes you think are eating you alive, but they’re really just calculating their next move behind the pupil. He’s like the hardest puzzle, and I don’t know why I’m trying so hard to figure him out.
Hand-in-hand, we walk the red carpet up the steps of the gallery and inside where people mingle amongst the framed artwork. This is one of those places that pretty much has its own zip code. Kind of like the Prince’s estate.
Gabriel places his hand on the small of my back, intensifying the ache between my legs, and moves through the crowd with ease, as he navigates us toward the bar near the back of the room. The chilly air inside the cavernous space does nothing to cool my still overheated body.
“Senator Dupree, let me introduce you to my fiancee, Clementine,” Gabriel says, as he shakes the hand of the grey-haired politician sipping from a glass of champagne.
“Hi, Senator Dupree. So nice to meet you,” I greet him.
Gabriel and the senator launch into a conversation about his upcoming campaign, and I drown it out. Instead of listening to their talk of donations, I scan the party filled with men in suits and women adorning their arms. Every man in a suit has a few men standing guard beside them, ready to do their bidding. At least that’s what I think they are.
Even Gabriel has a few men staying close, but not too close. I people watch for a few minutes before I spot a picture that calls to me.
My feet move on their own, until I’m standing right before it. Blues, reds, yellows, and greens dance together in a playful banter of wits and strength. The reds are winning, taking up most of the canvas with their heavy brush strokes.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a man behind me asks with a thick Southern drawl.
“It is.”
I peek over my shoulder, to see a lean man with longer than average sandy-blond hair and a mustache to match, holding a glass of some brown liquor on the rocks. He’s older than me, by about twenty years, and has a large set of brown eyes that resemble an owl. “Reminds me of sex.”
I widen my eyes. “Excuse me?”
He laughs a rich, hearty laugh. “Doesn’t it look like a canvas filled with a lot of angry sex to you?”
I chance a peek over at Gabriel who still chats away to a group of people. I stare back at the painting, wondering if it indeed looks like sex. It’s been so long since I’ve even had sex, but I remember the limo ride here. “Yes, it kind of does. Like the colors are all fighting for their own presence.”
The man smiles. “Precisely.” He studies me for a moment. “You’re marrying Gabriel Prince, right?”
I smile. “Yes. That’s right.”
He assesses me, taking a sip of his drink. “Bishop Blackstone sends his best wishes.”
My heart stops. Everything around me moves in slow motion. “What?”
Before the man can say anything more, Gabriel is once again at my side with his hand resting on the small of my back. And I have to say, it makes me feel safe.
“What are we talking about here?” Gabriel asks with a smile, essentially staking his claim over me. But, for once I don’t mind it.
I welcome it, actually.
“Sex,” the man says.
I swallow and blink.
Gabriel takes a moment before he answers. “I don’t think I’ve caught your name.” Gabriel holds out his hand, ready for the man to answer.
The man shakes his hand. “Names aren’t important around here.”
I don’t dare mention that this bushy old man mentioned Bishop Blackstone.
I purse my lips into a thin line, hoping more than anything the man with the big moustache walks away.
After a minute, my wish comes true, he winks at me and walks away with another hearty laugh.
“What did he say to you?” Gabriel asks as soon as the man is out of ear shot.
I shake my head, and flourish my hand. “Oh, nothing. He was telling me how this painting is like angry sex on a canvas. I really like it.” I can feel myself beginning to ramble. I sometimes ramble when I’m nervous, and … “I need a drink.”
Just as I say the words, a server passes with a silver tray of champagne glasses. Gabriel grabs two and hands me one.
“Find out who that was,” Gabriel says to one of his men who appears out of nowhere.
“That’s not necessary,” I say. “He was just a harmless old man.” But, I’m sure he’s not harmless. He most likely works for Bishop, and that’s one thing I don’t want Gabriel to discover.
I know Bishop.
I’ve known him for many years.
And he’s not a good guy.
He’s the type of man your mother warns you about when you’re young. The boogie man who comes into your home and steals everything until you’re left with nothing. Only, Bishop comes into your life, stripping you down, until you’re left with a shell of the woman you used to be.
Sometimes people sell their souls to the devil.
And Bishop owns many souls.
He travels the world. He’s into export/imports, or something like that.
Gabriel’s dark eyes roam over me, thinking, contemplating, and I can see the exact moment he makes a snap decision to trust me. “Ok, nevermind, Jonas,” he says to the same man standing at his side.
I release an audible breath, trying my best to paint on a fake smile. “Thank you.”
“I have to talk to that man over there,” Gabriel tells me, pointing to a bald man across the room. “Think you can stay out of trouble?” He winks.
I square my shoulders, thrusting my nose into the air. “Of course, I can. I’ll just keep admiring this painting.” I jab a thumb over my shoulder at the painting behind me.
He leans in. “Thank you.” And then he kisses my lips, taking my breath away.
I turn back around to face the painting, staring at the softer pink strokes of paint on the canvas. I wonder why the artist even included them? The reds, blues, and greens are the true stars of this painting, but the pink strokes call to me. Like the supporting characters in a grander love story. It makes me sad for them. It makes me mourn the fact they can’t have their own story. That they can’t be in the spotlight.
I sip my champagne, and then my phone jingles in my purse. I pull it out and glance down at a text message from Ronin.
My eyes swiftly scan the party, making sure Gabriel is still across the room with the man he said he needed to talk to.
I swipe my phone on, and open up the text message.
Just three little words are written there, “You’re in danger.”
Acknowledgments
Thank you so much for reading Bride, The Deceit Duet Book One. Groom will be released August 13th.
* * *
As always, thank you to all the readers who take a chance on my books. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoy bringing these characters to life.
* * *
As always, thank you Paula for all your help and insight into this book. And stepping up when I hurt myself. Thank you for all of your hard work you do daily behind the scenes. I truly appreciate it.
* * *
Vanessa Spinner, thank you for stepping up to the plate and lending your eyes when I needed you. It was truly appreciated.
* * *
A special thanks to Valerie D, Kim M, and Angie S for your tireless daily shares and help in getting my books seen.
* * *
Thank you to every single person who has helped support my books. Whether it’s a share, a review
, or just letting others know you liked it, your enthusiasm is greatly appreciated.
* * *
Thank you to all the awesome book bloggers out there, you all rock, and without you sharing my books out to the world, none of this could be possible.
If you want to hang out with me, you can find me in my Facebook group. JOIN HERE
Sign up for my newsletter and get a FREE gift. Click now.
Gabriel and Clementine have quite the road ahead for them. Read on to check out the first chapter of Groom, The Deceit Duet Book Two, releasing in just a few short weeks.
Turn the page to read the first chapter of GROOM, releasing August 13th.
You can preorder Groom for 99 cents TODAY, PREORDER NOW
GROOM Sneak Peek
GROOM, The Deceit Duet Book Two
Available for 99 cents on preorder now
* * *
Chapter One
Gabriel
* * *
I never wanted this marriage. I didn’t. But, the minute that old fuck said he was talking about sex to her, something happened. It’s like a switch flipped. It’s like a fuse ignited. And I wanted to plot out all the ways I could watch the asshole die.
When Clementine asked me to let it go, it went against everything ingrained in my DNA. It was hard to let something like that go. Yet, for some odd reason I did.
It’s called trust.
I’ve never trusted anyone.
But, for some reason I trust her. For now.
“You ready to go?” I ask Clementine.
“Yes,” she answers.
She’s been quiet most of the night, staring at that painting that looks like an angry burst of bright colors.
And now it’s hers. She just doesn’t know it yet. The artist is an unknown in the art world, but it still cost a pretty penny to obtain it. Normally, I would have bargained, taken a week to play the back and forth game, but I didn’t want to this time. I wanted to buy the painting for her.
She can call it a wedding gift.
I lead her out to the car and slide in after her.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as we pull away.
The city lights illuminate the fake smile on her face. “Besides the obvious that we’re being forced to marry? Nothing. Why do you think something’s wrong?”
“You’ve been very quiet.”
The diamond on her ring finger flashes when she raises her hand to her temple. “I think I have a champagne headache.”
She turns her head to look out the window, and it’s for the best she’s ignoring me. I wanted a redo of what happened on the way to the art gallery to happen on the way back. It’s all I’ve thought about all night. The way her lips felt so silky soft against mine. The way her body felt rubbing against me. My dick comes to life thinking of Clementine’s legs straddling me in the back of the limo. I didn’t want it to end. I wanted to show her what I could do with my tongue. But, looks like I’ll be enjoying my hand later tonight.
The rest of the ride home is silent, and when we arrive at the estate, she rushes off to her room before I can even say goodnight.
Like a stalker, I watch her ascend the stairs and then move through the foyer into the living room. I yank off my tie and toss it on the leather sofa, along with my jacket, and grab my VTOL drone from the coffee table. Since there will be no fucking, I take it out into the back courtyard for a little late-night fun before bed. I just need to clear my head. From her.
Stars dot the night sky as the drone takes flight. I walk further into the yard and relax until I turn around and see Clementine standing in her room. Undressing.
I’ve reached new lows, and I really don’t fucking care. I hold my breath, wondering if I’m going to get my very own peep show.
I turn the drone to the right, trying my best to pay attention to it while it flies overhead. At the moment she removes her dress, I lose control of my drone and it crashes into the glass of her balcony door.
She walks closer, holding her dress against her, and peers out. I lift the drone from her balcony, flying it back to me, and she snaps the blinds closed.
I’m sure my grandfather is laughing his ass off in the pits of hell at my growing obsession. It’s not easy, but I block her out of mind, and focus on the freedom of the flying drone. Until, Clementine marches across the grass in black yoga pants and and an oversized T-shirt.
“Were you spying on me?”
“Spying? No.” I land the drone on the helipad, and slide my phone into my pocket.
“There’s no high tech camera on that gadget?” She stops a few feet from me and parks her hands on her hips. “No x-ray vision where you can see through clothes or something?”
I laugh. “There’s no such thing.” I place both hands in my pockets. “I wasn’t watching you.”
“Your plane thing just happened to crash into my window?” She narrows her eyes.
“My drones appear to be attracted to you.”
“Speaking of attraction, here.” She slides off her engagement ring and holds it out to me. “You broke my contract.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I never joke about contracts.”
I shrug. “That wasn’t a real contract.” My lawyers could kill that one piece of paper easily in a courtroom.
Her eyes look like they could shoot laser beams as she closed the distance. “That contract is real. You signed it.” She pokes her finger into my chest. Ow. “And you broke it.”
I laugh. “No. We’re getting married.”
“No, we’re not.”
“Clementine, I’m not doing this right now.” I’m sure we could go back and forth like this for hours. There’s another way I’d like to spend countless hours with her, and it’s not arguing.
“Take the ring.” She holds the rock out again.
I lean closer. “No.”
“Yes. Take it.”
“No. We will be getting married.”
“I’ll sue you.”
I lean into her space, inches from her lips. “You going to tell the judge how you were so wet for me?”
She swallows. “That’s not fair.”
I keep going, “You going to tell him how you rode my cock?”
“I..umm,” she breathes out.
“Are you going to tell the courtroom how I had you moaning my name? How you were practically begging for it?”
Her eyes are on fire. “You’re an asshole.”
And then I do something I don’t plan. I grab her around the waist and press my lips against hers. Hard.
I can’t stop kissing her, and she doesn’t push me away. Instead, she pulls me closer, dancing her tongue along mine. I can’t get enough of her, and I press my growing hard-on against her. The moment she feels it, she backs away, breaking the kiss.
“The wedding is off.”
“Get one thing straight.” I swipe my thumb against my bottom lip. “This wedding is very much on.”
Without another word, she walks away.
Before she can get very far, I call out to her, “I’ve set up a meeting with you and a wedding planner on Monday.”
“I’m not going.” She stops walking and turns around, crossing her arms, and I wish I could kiss the stubborn out of her.
“Yes, you are.”
“Will you be there?”
I smirk. “I won’t pretend I know anything about planning a wedding. And I know my presence at that meeting would only hinder your decisions, delaying the whole process.” I step back. “So I think it’s best you handle the wedding preparations yourself.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
She parks a hand on her hip. “No, we’re in this together, Buddy.”
“Buddy?”
“Yes, you and me. Husband and wife. Bride and Groom. This is a joint effort.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Can’t I just promise you your dream wedding and call it a day.”
“No.”
“Fine, I’ll
text you the details. Monday at three.”
“I’ll be there,” she says, walking back across the grass. “Be ready to pick flowers and all that fun stuff.”
I shamelessly watch each step she takes back toward the house. There’s no way I’m letting her go with some silly breach of contract. My phone rings just as she steps inside.
“What’s up?” I answer it.
“Sir,” Jonas says, “There’s a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“It’s your brother.”
“And?”
“He’s missing.”
PREORDER NOW AT THE SPECIAL PRICE OF 99 CENTS
Cold Hearted Baller Sneak Peek
Cold Hearted Baller is the FIRST book under my new pen name, LOGAN.
Read the first chapter now.
* * *
Chapter One
* * *
Calliope
* * *
My veins are going to explode. I scan the list of ingredients in the Max Energy drink I consumed this morning, checking to see if drugs are listed. They aren’t.
With a move I imagine is worthy of Maxwell Hunter, the star pitcher who endorses it, I wind my arm back and rocket the sleek silver can across the conference room of Mayhem Marketing. It thunks against the cream-colored wall and lands with a thump inside the small trash can.
“Yesss,” I exclaim as the door opens.
“They’re ready for you, Calliope,” Rita, assistant to the man who’s going to hire me to cater all of his marketing company’s functions, informs me with a furrowed brow.
He hasn’t actually agreed to hire me yet, but he will, because according to the energy drink ‘It’s winning in a can.’