by C. L. Parker
Delaine dragged her nails across my back and I prayed to God she left wounds there, wounds that would never heal—scars to rival the ones that would be left on my heart when she left me.
I pulled back to look at her, memorizing her every feature, and I couldn’t help but notice the way the vein in her neck throbbed with her heavy heartbeat. Yet another vision that would haunt me for the rest of my life. So exquisite.
A drop of sweat dangled precariously on the tip of my nose until it fell onto her bottom lip, and I watched as she flicked her tongue out and tasted it. Her eyes closed and she hummed like she’d just popped the last gourmet chocolate into her mouth and was savoring the taste.
“Look at me, kitten,” I whispered. She did as I said, her eyes forming an instant connection with mine. It was a connection that went so much deeper than outward appearances. “I love you, Lanie.”
“Noah, I …” She moaned and then bit down on her bottom lip, tossing her head back. Her orgasm rippled through her body in waves and her body stretched tight beneath me.
That sight. Oh, God, that sight. The look on her face when I told her I loved her and she orgasmed … there simply were no words adequate enough to describe how it made me feel.
With one final thrust, I followed suit. I could feel her inner walls gripping and stroking, milking me as I throbbed and pulsed inside her until there was nothing left to give. I rolled onto my side and took her with me, using both arms to hold her against my chest, unwilling to let her go. And wasn’t that the crux of the matter? I couldn’t let her go, but I had to. Because to keep her there would just be cruel.
We lay there in our postcoital bliss for what seemed like a lifetime, but it still wasn’t long enough. Neither of us said anything, neither of us relinquished our hold, both of us lost in our own thoughts. The sheets were drenched—soaked from our wet bodies, soaked by the sweat of our labor, soaked by the resulting release. And oh, what a sweet release it was.
And then she broke the silence.
“Noah.” Her voice was so soft I barely heard her say my name. “We need to talk.” That I heard loud and clear. And I didn’t want to, because this was the part where everything got ruined, where I got bitch-slapped by reality … where she told me she was going to leave.
“Shh, not yet.” I smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead. “It can wait until the morning. For now, let’s just stay here like this.”
Delaine … Lanie nodded and nuzzled her face back into my chest without another word, giving me that one last night to hold her in my arms. It was the first and only night that everything was right in the goddamn world because she was there and she knew I loved her. No way was I going to sleep and waste one second of what precious little time I had left with her.
~$~
For the remainder of the night, I stayed right there. As she slept peacefully, I stroked her hair, rubbed her back, inhaled her scent. It wasn’t until the first tinge of orange tinted the morning sky that I finally maneuvered my way out from under her. A soft kiss to her cheek and a whispered “I love you,” and I was off to take my shower.
As I passed by the bedroom door, an invisible hand seemed to reach in from out of nowhere to grab hold of me. Down the hall and into my office it dragged me, until I found myself standing in front of an open drawer on my desk. With a shaky hand, I reached inside and pulled out my copy of the contract, the contract that bound Delaine to me for the next two years.
Lanie
I awoke the next morning and freaked for just a moment (okay, it was longer than a moment) when I couldn’t feel and then didn’t see Noah in the bed. But then I sat up and looked around, noticing that the bathroom door was closed, which meant he had to be there. I realized I was still naked, which wasn’t too shocking since Noah had always insisted I sleep like that—truthfully, I kind of liked it—and the gown that I had discarded was still lying on the floor where I had stepped out of it last night before the shower. It hadn’t all been another one of my delusional dreams. I floated back down to the bed and snuggled with Noah’s pillow.
He loved me. He really loved me.
And he hadn’t just said it. He’d shown me with every touch, every kiss, with every part of him until there could never be any doubt.
My thoughts flashed back to mere hours before, and I smiled so hard that my cheeks hurt. I was soaring on the inside, my body vibrating on the out.
I knew the second he told me he loved me with his “whole fucking heart” that he meant it. But it just didn’t sound right for him to say something like that, without using the name I had insisted he had no right to use. He’d more than earned the right to call me Lanie. Nothing could have been more right. And when I heard him say it, heard the L roll off his talented tongue—gah, it gave me goose bumps, and I trembled from the inside out, yearning to hear it over and over again.
Until that moment, I had been sure things could never work between Noah and me. We came from two completely different worlds, and regardless of how we felt about each other, those worlds could be unforgiving. But when I saw, felt, and heard his conviction, I knew we deserved a fighting chance, and I wasn’t going to be the one who killed our shot of happiness. Not when I felt the same way he did. We could make it work. Maybe all those romantic comedies weren’t just fantasies. Maybe Noah and I could have a little bit of that magic, too.
I was going to tell him that I loved him, but then he told me to look at him, and I saw what I could only imagine was how he truly felt on the inside. It was as plain as the sexy nose on his face, and then he said those three little words again, using the familiar version of my name. I couldn’t hold back the orgasm that it evoked. Utter bliss.
I even tried to tell him again, once we each had a chance to cool our jets, so to speak. But he didn’t want to talk. He just wanted to bask in the aftermath of what we’d done, and that was A-okay with me, too. Because we still had today, and tomorrow, and the next day, and every glorious day of our lives after that.
We were in love, and nothing or no one was going to be able to come between us.
I mean, what were the odds? Two strangers, both taking desperate measures to relieve the hardships we had to endure, and from all that mess, we found each other. We found love. We took nothing and made it into something. That would be the story we would one day tell our children and our children’s children—leaving out the part about their mother and grandmother being a whore and all, of course, ’cause I really couldn’t see that being an “awww” moment.
I was happy. I was giddy. It was a new day. The storm clouds had been pushed away. The sun was shining. Birds were chirping. I bet if I had gone over to the window, pushed it open, and leaned out, a little blue songbird would have even landed on my finger and sung me a song. Talk about a fairy-tale moment. Not that I had any intention of doing that, though. With my luck, I’d trip or something and fall two stories to go splat on the pristine concrete below with nothing to break my fall except that teeny-tiny songbird. It would look like a smushed blue M&M beneath me, and I couldn’t have that on my conscience.
Nope, wasn’t going to happen. Nothing was going to ruin the beauty of the day. So I mentally told that little blue bird to stay on his side of the window, and I would stay on mine. That way nobody had to get hurt.
Big sigh, huge stretch, and bingo! Brilliant-idea moment.
Breakfast. I was going to make him breakfast. I got a huge, cheese-eating grin on my face when I decided it would be bacon and eggs, and a devilish smirk when I thought about what could possibly come of that. Who’d have thought? Bacon, a cholesterol-filled aphrodisiac. Huh. Great for the Cooch—bad, bad, bad for the arteries.
The Cooch gave me two thumbs-up for my idea. But of course she would, little slut.
I shrugged her off and went to toss back the covers to get breakfast started—because the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, after all—but then the bathroom door opened and Noah stepped out. He was completely dressed and looked like pure sex,
even with the slight shadows under his eyes. Guess I must have kept him up too late last night. My inner whore giggled like an innocent schoolgirl. Total contradiction, I know.
“Good morning.” I smiled timidly, suddenly unsure if he would still feel the same way now as he had last night.
“Good morning,” he answered, except his tone was a tad bit more sullen than I had anticipated. He dropped his eyes and started fussing with his tie, even though it was perfect as usual. I got the feeling that he didn’t want to look at me.
Oh, crap. Okay, there was no need to panic. Maybe he was just thinking along the same line as I was and didn’t know what my reaction was going to be this morning. Easily fixed.
“So, um, are you going to work?” I asked, because I wasn’t really sure how to start.
“Yeah. I kind of left in a hurry last night and hadn’t made all my rounds to prospective clients and the board members. So I need to do some damage control.” His unnecessary preening moved from his tie to the sleeves of his jacket.
“Oh. Sorry about that,” I said, feeling a pang of guilt over my behavior. “Do we have time to talk first?”
He shrugged. “No need to, really. I already know everything you’re going to say, and the solution to the problem is simple.”
Well, that sort of pissed me off. How dared he presume to know what I was thinking? And what solution? To what problem? As far as I was concerned, everything was perfect.
Noah walked toward the bed and pulled a folded paper from his inside pocket, opened it up, and then ripped it in half. He let the two halves drift onto the bed beside me. “Go be with your mother and father. They need you far more than I do. Besides, it would’ve never worked between us. Not in the real world.”
As I looked down at the paper, he turned his back on me and headed toward the door. It didn’t take a great deal of studying to realize that the sheet he had destroyed was our contract. What once served as a tether that kept me bound to the man I loved was now an insignificant donation to the Earth Day cause: recyclable material.
“Noah, I—” I started, but he cut me off.
“I have to go,” he said, pausing at the door with his back to me. “You should, too.”
With that, he opened the door and walked out on me.
They need you far more than I do … it would’ve never worked between us. His words were almost deafening as they rang in my ears. And why was I so shocked? He’d only confirmed what I’d known to be true all along anyway.
My heart, which had been about to bust with giddiness mere seconds before, was now much like the useless document that lay beside me: destroyed, shredded, torn in two.
“But … I love you, too,” I whispered to the now empty room. I couldn’t let him leave without making sure that he at least heard the words.
I jumped out of the bed to run after him, but when a rush of cold air caused me to shiver, I realized I was still naked. So I grabbed one of his T-shirts and threw it over my head, then ran for the door and down the long corridor. I nearly fell headfirst down the stairs, but I somehow managed to stay upright long enough to reach the foyer. Then I wrenched open the front door and opened my mouth to shout the words just in time to see taillights of the limousine as it pulled down the drive.
Too late. He was gone. And I was all alone.
To be continued …
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My decision to publish the Million Dollar Duet did not come quickly or easily, but I’m glad I did it. Obviously, this page is dedicated to acknowledging those people who gave a little bit of their blood, sweat, and tears to help me make that happen. So let’s get on with it, shall we?
First and foremost, I simply must thank my incredibly talented friend and mentor, Darynda Jones. If it hadn’t been for you, this adventure would have taken an entirely different direction. I am convinced people are put into our lives for a reason. Lady, you were put in mine to help make my dreams come true. I love your luscious face.
I still can’t believe how lucky I am to have scored my very remarkable agent, Alexandra Machinist, and my extraordinary editor, Shauna Summers. You are two of my most favorite people in the world. Thank you for taking a chance on me.
Huge thanks to my pre-readers: Patricia Dechant, Melanie Edwards, Maureen Morgan, and Janell Ramos. You are my anchors, my sounding boards, and my biggest cheerleaders. Love you. Mean it.
A special shout-out to my street team, Parker’s Pimpin’ Posse, and the members of PNSS. Most important, my loyal readers, thank you. I wish I could call you all out by name because it is your support that keeps me doing what I’m doing.
Will Noah and Lanie finally get their happily-ever-after?
Find out in the shocking and seductive conclusion to their story:
A MILLION GUILTY PLEASURES
On sale early 2014
From Hodder
prologue
I am a man who paid for sex. Not that I needed to, mind you, but it was the only way to be sure I wouldn’t get fucked. Well, getting fucked was kind of the point, but not the one I’m trying to make. Bottom line: I paid an insane amount of money, two million dollars to be exact, to own a woman for two years. She was a virgin, and well worth the trade, but then I did the unthinkable.
I fell in love with her.
To make matters worse, I found out the truth behind why she put her body up for sale in the first place. She did it to save a life. I had purchased her to get laid. Clearly, I was the ass in the equation, but I was going to make it up to her or die trying.
My name is Noah Crawford, and this is the continuation of my story.
1
JINX
Noah
Walking away from Delaine Talbot was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. And that was saying a lot considering I’d been responsible for the death of my parents and had subsequently inherited a multi-billion-dollar corporation, Scarlet Lotus, that I ran alongside my mortal enemy, David Stone.
David had once been my best friend until I came home from a business trip to find him fucking my girl, Julie, in the bathtub. Needless to say, Julie was no longer my girl. A pariah, yes, but my girl, no. All of those events inadvertently led me to Lanie. I still wasn’t sure if I should be bitter or happy about that fact.
I’d heard about an underground organization that procured women to auction off to the highest bidder. It was all very illegal, of course, as human trafficking—voluntary or not—should be. However, these women agreed to become the property of the winner in whatever manner they required. I might not have trusted women after the Julie/David debacle, but I was a man, and I had needs like every other man. So when I’d heard about the auction, it seemed the best route to take.
Scott Christopher was the proprietor of Foreplay, a club that, on the face of it, catered to the shenanigans of college students, but hosted the auction underground. I didn’t like Christopher in the least, but I hadn’t gone there to make friends. I’d had a single purpose in mind, and I’d always gotten what I wanted.
Delaine Talbot was a twenty-four-year-old virgin. Unsullied, untamed. Perfect. The two million dollars I paid to own her for two years was a very fine investment, indeed. Two years for me to have my very wicked way with her whenever and however I wanted. And I did. Although I hadn’t expected her to have zero experience with sex, I was pleased that I’d be the one to teach her. She was a star pupil, accelerating in her lessons to the point that I thought she might actually be the death of me. An added bonus, she came equipped with an attitude. You’d think that would be a turnoff, but it had only made my cock even harder for her.
We went round and round, butted heads like nobody’s business, but in the end, it always landed with my cock buried deep inside her exquisite pussy while she moaned my name. I was a sex god and she was every bit the goddess. That was until I found out she was actually an angel and I, the devil in disguise.
Had I been half as smart as I’d thought I was, I would’ve hired someone to do a background
check on her from the beginning. But no. I was a horny fucker without morals, hence the purchase of a human being in the first goddamn place.
It turned out Lanie Talbot had made the ultimate sacrifice. She’d sold herself to save her dying mother’s life.
Faye Talbot was in need of a heart transplant. The problem was that the Talbot family couldn’t afford the transplant, nor did they have health insurance. Mack, Lanie’s father, had lost his job after having missed so much work tending to his wife. Corporate America could be a cold bastard at times, caring more about the bottom line than the people who made it to begin with. But what had been done had been done. All they could do was trudge forward and hold out for hope.
That hope came in the sum of two million dollars that I’d paid to have my very wicked way with Lanie.
Charitable of me, huh? I didn’t think that had been what my dearly departed mother, Elizabeth, had in mind when she’d first started the charity campaign at Scarlet Lotus. Noah Sr. would’ve disapproved greatly as well.
Once I’d found out what I’d done to Lanie, I knew I couldn’t do it to her anymore. I’d fallen for her. Big-time. And although it nearly killed me to admit it, I knew I had to let her go. She belonged at her mother’s side, not in my bed.
I’ll admit I hadn’t thought I could actually follow through on it, so I’d hedged. It was the night of the annual Scarlet Lotus Ball that the dam had finally broken. First of all, Julie had shown up and shown out. She had been all over me like a second skin and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it at the time because of all the board members and potential clients who were in attendance. Add to that the fact that Lanie had been openly flirting with David Stone and you had a catastrophe in the making. So I’d been forced to drag Lanie out of there before I lost all composure and made a horrific scene from which I’d never be able to recover. It was what David had been hoping for, I was sure.