by Robyn Nyx
Table of Contents
Synopsis
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
About the Author
Books Available From Bold Strokes Books
Synopsis
When a killer sets her sights on her target, is there any stopping her?
Award-winning journalist Madison Ford is taking a well-deserved break from covering foreign wars. That break is cut short when she receives a mysterious package, full of incriminating information on a human trafficking ring. When she’s asked to do an interview with an actress and humanitarian, it seems like a welcome distraction. Little does she know how distracting it will become.
Elodie Fontaine is in demand. She chooses the movies she wants to work on and the women she wants in her bed. Humanitarian work takes up the rest of her time. Love isn’t an option. When Madison walks into her life, she’s faced with a dilemma: pursue Madison and lose her heart, or avoid the risk and lose her chance at happiness.
When Madison’s life is in danger, will love pull them through? Or will it be too late?
Never Enough
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Never Enough
© 2016 By Robyn Nyx. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-630-2
This Electronic Book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, New York 12185
First Edition: November 2016
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Cindy Cresap
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])
Acknowledgments
The word “acknowledgment” doesn’t quite seem to communicate the gratitude I feel to everyone who’s been involved in turning my manuscript into the finished article you now hold in your hands. Thank you to Radclyffe for creating such a wonderful and nurturing publishing house. Thanks to Sandy Lowe, whose patience with my ideas on cover design were very much appreciated. A big thank you to Cindy Cresap for having the faith in me to “remix the concrete” and “create the coolest neighborhood”—you’re clearly an amazing editor, and I’m thankful to have you on my team.
Thank you to JB, who was alongside me for the very first iteration of this book and always believed I’d be a published author.
Huge thanks to my parents, whose unconditional support and endless encouragement made me believe I could achieve anything I put my mind to.
And finally, immense and unfathomable thanks to my lady, who taught me more about the craft of writing in six months than I’d learned in my previous three decades, and more about love than I could ever write in a lifetime.
This book would never have been finished or published if I didn’t have the support, knowledge, and love of my lady, Victoria.
You are the light to my dark and the dark to my light.
You’re my dream weaver and my muse, and I have both lost and found myself in your love. Words are our life, but sometimes they are simply Never Enough.
Chapter One
“Elodie? Should I get the phone?”
“No. Don’t touch it.” Elodie would’ve used the woman’s name, except she couldn’t bring it to mind. She’d picked her up hours earlier at the opening of another super club but had been more than a little intoxicated, and the music had been too loud to hear much else. She was terrible with names, but she did remember it was something to do with a famous song. There’d been a choice of potential playmates, of course, as there always was. And this one hadn’t disappointed, not physically, anyway. Invariably, Elodie was disenchanted with the level of interest they showed in her beyond the bedroom and the inevitable favor of getting them a screen test. This one had been no exception, and Elodie had no doubt the question of acting was imminent.
She slipped across the bed to reach for the phone and shivered as she felt the satin sheets go from body-warm to bare-cold. The shiver went a little deeper when she saw herself smoldering on the copy of People magazine beside her phone. The World’s Most Beautiful Woman for the ninth year running. Instinctively, she ran her hand through her hair and made a mental note to see her stylist today. She hated it when she couldn’t feel the warmth of the sun, or someone’s hand, directly on her neck. She’d have her head shaved if it weren’t for the fact that her adoring fans loved her trademark style. There was something empowering about short hair, particularly since the vast majority of Hollywood’s darlings wore their hair that much longer. She was flipping off the norm, and they loved her all the more for it.
“If you’re not offering me sex or an Oscar, you really shouldn’t be calling at this hour.”
“Elodie, I have two opportunities for you, and I just had to share them right away. Firstly, I have a meeting for you this week. A must-do meeting with the big new company in town.” Elodie’s agent, Paige Bailey, always seemed shrill and hurried.
“Really? A must-do meeting with an unproven studio?” She closed her eyes and shook her head. She hated being told what to do. There was only one person who’d ever done that, and she was long dead now.
“Um, well, it’s a great opportunity with all the writers’ strikes going on. FlatLine is the only studio beginning new work. It’s an adaptation of one of your favorite books…unless it’s not one of your favorite books anymore and you didn’t tell me.”
“Calm down, Paige. You’ll give yourself another heart attack.” The woman lying beside her giggled. Jude! That’s your name! “Which book?”
“I can’t remember the title. Or the author. It’s the one with the Russian woman who has to become an assassin to save her daughter. She dies in the end.”
“That’s not ringing any bells, Paige, but it does sound interesting, especially if they stick to the original ending and don’t make it Hollywood romance schmaltzy.” She leaned over to kiss Jude hard and squeezed her breast nonchalantly. “What’s the second opportunity?”
“I’ve pulled in a favor with Madison Ford’s agent and got y
ou an interview to discuss your work with the GTIP office and human trafficking. It’ll raise awareness like you want and serve as potential publicity for the human trafficking film you want to get financed.”
Now Elodie was interested. Her work with the government’s department to combat human trafficking globally had started as something Paige thought would attract her more morally minded fans. It had quickly grown into a passion, and she was devoting more time and money to it than Paige wanted. It was volunteer work, and 15 percent of zero wasn’t exactly what Paige had planned when she suggested it. Paige was a typically heartless bitch of an agent, but she was her heartless bitch of an agent.
“That’s a real coup, Paige. How did you manage that?” Elodie was genuinely impressed.
“Hollywood revolves around favors, Elodie. You know that. And most of them originate from dark, poorly kept secrets.” Her words hinted at a seedier Hollywood than the one the world knew and loved.
“Intriguing. Now I really want to know how you did it. Why don’t you come over and bring some breakfast? I’m hungry.” Jude caught Elodie’s eye, and she recognized the look. She saw it over and over when they realized there was so much more to her than her infamous sexual appetite. One day, she hoped someone would see it before she fucked them.
“We’ll check your diary, see when you’re available. I’m pulling in a huge favor to get Madison to do this. She’s in Russia right now, covering gender and war or something, so we’ll schedule it as soon as she’s back on U.S. soil. She doesn’t do celebrity interviews, so I expect there’ll be no room for discussing your movies.”
Paige clearly wanted further recognition of the great lengths she’d gone to to secure this coup for Elodie.
“You’ve done great, Paige. I wouldn’t want to talk about Hollywood with a reporter of her caliber anyway. It’d be a waste of an opportunity to get my human trafficking work an even higher profile. What time is it?”
“Ten thirty.”
“Swing by at twelve then.” She felt a hand track tentatively over her hip and smiled. “Make that one.”
“Of course.”
“Then we’ll see you later.” Elodie ended the call, stretched out, and kicked the covers down to her waist. “What’re you doing all the way over there?”
“Just waiting for my cue when you’d finished. You know, love interest enters stage left.” The girl sidled over to nestle on Elodie’s chest and began to trace her fingers over Elodie’s stomach.
Elodie ignored the “love” reference. There was nothing about this one to keep her interested beyond breakfast. “I thought you were a waitress. Waiting on tables, not for your big break. Why didn’t you say?”
“Well, you didn’t seem interested in too much conversation last night. Of the small talk kind, anyway.”
Elodie grinned as she recalled the filthy words she had snarled in this girl’s ear while she fucked her. “So what makes you think I’d be more in the mood for conversation now?” Elodie wondered if Jude would recognize the playfulness in her tone.
“If you’re not, I’m sure I can amuse you in other ways.” She reached across Elodie’s body and traced the veins along her forearm with her nails.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Maybe you could do that thing you did last night…I’m pretty sure I could take it again.”
Elodie knew what Jude was talking about. She closed her eyes and mentally pictured it. She had been delightful. Elodie didn’t know whether Jude was a good actress or not, but she was exceptionally talented in this arena. She caught hold of Jude’s arm and used her body weight to shift her onto her back. Elodie knelt over her and pinned both of Jude’s arms above her head. She positioned her breasts tantalizingly close to Jude’s mouth. “How much do you want it?”
Jude smiled as she lifted her head and pressed her mouth to Elodie’s left breast. As she tongued her nipple, she wrapped her legs around Elodie’s waist and pressed her wet pussy to her stomach. Elodie couldn’t resist a small grin and pressed against her. Jude dropped her head back to the pillow.
“I want it bad.”
She could see Jude’s lips were full, flushed with arousal. Elodie loved to see that on a woman. It was an unavoidable biological response to their own raw sexuality.
“Please fuck me.”
Elodie smiled wickedly and laughed. “No.”
Jude unwrapped her legs and sank into the bed. She pushed herself farther up so her pussy lay beneath Elodie’s breasts.
“Please. I need you inside me. Fuck me, Elodie.”
Elodie caught hold of Jude’s hair and leaned hard into her soft body. “Later, little one. I need to shower.” She removed herself from the entanglement and headed for the bathroom, deliberately swinging her ass for Jude’s benefit.
*
As Elodie brushed her teeth, she thought about the new script Paige was bringing over. She had no clue as to the favorite book it was supposed to be adapted from, but it sounded like a good part nonetheless. Better yet was the interview Paige had managed to secure with Madison Ford. She was in a journalistic league all her own: fearless and always in pursuit of justice. She’d recently won a Pulitzer Prize for a stunning feature charting the female to male transition of her fellow actor, Troy Donovan. On the set of her last movie, Elodie had heard Troy’s tale of him and Madison getting together in graphic detail, and for some reason, didn’t want to believe it. The woman was principled and professional. Surely she wouldn’t jump into bed with one of her stories?
Elodie respected her attitude and the way she handled herself and those around her. I’d like to handle her. Her beauty matched her intelligence and tenacity. She’d read much of Madison’s work. Her articles about famine, war, and poverty had touched Elodie deeply and made her think about being more than just an actress. But it was her articles on organ trafficking in the States that prompted Elodie to do something useful with her own fame. Since she’d started that work, she’d vaguely hoped Madison would ask for an interview. But despite her involvement with the so-called “Decade of Delivery” and her work combating human trafficking and organ sales in L.A., Madison stayed well away.
Elodie knew she had no right to garner any special attention from Madison. She wasn’t doing anything with enough impact to warrant any attention from Madison at all. No doubt an actor was far from her radar, but still Madison remained a distant ideal of someone who might interest Elodie beyond one or two nights of wild, mind-blowing sex. Maybe all Madison could see was the intricately created façade of Elodie Fontaine, the movie star. Sometimes, Elodie wondered if she’d worn that mask for so long, she wouldn’t know how to take it off. Even if someone came along that made her want to try.
Elodie stepped under the rainforest shower and took a moment to enjoy the warm blanket of water that fell on her body. She concentrated her thoughts on the now—the impending interview with Madison. Another perfect chance for Elodie Fontaine to promote Elodie Fontaine. She knew Paige would insist on certain topics, things to ask, things not to ask. But Madison would push different buttons, ask personal and probing questions.
It wasn’t like Elodie was ever lost for something pertinent to say. People always marveled at her eloquence, that all-too-rare ability to know precisely the right words for every occasion. She’d never been caught out by some half-wit hack. Elodie Fontaine was always in control, of herself and of others. Often, they just didn’t know it. Madison Ford, though, was a different prospect. She was no hack. Elodie didn’t care that Madison had agreed to interview her so her agent could repay a favor. She was just glad she’d finally get the chance to meet her.
Drying herself off, Elodie was confident she would be inspired as always. She dropped her towel to the floor and padded back to the bedroom. She half expected Jude to be gone, but a quick glance at the bed proved otherwise. Jude had fallen asleep on her stomach with her legs wrapped around a pillow, raising her pert ass from the bed, inviting. Elodie approached the bed quietly and took the time to w
atch the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. She loved to watch the naked body of every woman she came across in Technicolor detail. She decided Jude was too thin for her own good. She looked almost fragile, and Elodie wondered how she’d not damaged her last night. She turned her attention to the shape of her ass and the way it smoothed down to the back of her legs.
She exhaled slowly and deeply. Elodie knelt beside her, slipped her arm underneath Jude’s stomach, and pulled her up onto her hands and knees. Before Jude had fully woken, Elodie was inside her, quick and smooth. She heard Jude gasp for breath as she thrust into her. She felt her try to fall back to the bed for support but held her firm, pressing their bodies together relentlessly.
When Elodie removed her arm from underneath Jude’s body, she stayed in position and resisted the temptation to sink into the forgiving softness of the bed. Elodie grasped Jude’s neck to bring them face-to-face. She kissed her, and her mouth cushioned the force with which she fucked Jude. Elodie wanted her unable to concentrate on their kiss. She wanted the throbbing to be so intense that the rest of the room blurred and all but paralyzed her body. She wanted Jude to relinquish control and allow herself to be ravished. Let her body respond without her will, without limitation.
Elodie stopped kissing her and focused on their rhythm, the feel of her fingers inside Jude, and enjoyed the physical intimacy. She pushed in harder and watched Jude’s body respond. She heard her breathing quicken. Jude became even more vocal, and her ass pushed back at Elodie, practically daring her to go harder, faster, deeper.
Elodie deliberately slowed down, again watching Jude’s body, the way she sank toward the bed, probably both thankful and hateful of the abeyance in pace.