by Eden Summers
“Dominic,” Savannah’s soft plea carried from the corner of the porch. “I can look after myself.”
“Yeah.” His friend gave him a look brimming with silent threats and then reached for the door. “You’ve done a great job of that so far, Savvy.”
It was a modest warning, definitely less than Keenan expected or deserved. He’d take it, though, and remember it nonetheless. There would be no more contemplation of an imminent end. If given the chance, he would aim for a relationship without an expiration date. He was striving for forever, the target forging itself into his mind as Dominic slammed the front door.
His throat tightened at the first step onto the porch and grew painful when he faced her. She turned to him and leaned her back against the railing. There was no greeting. No welcome or murmured hello. She didn’t say a thing, merely eyed him, the careless whisper of her lashes sweeping back and forth as her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.
He felt awkward in the silence he’d grown to derive comfort from. He’d kill to give her his words. The real ones. Not whispered, not typed. But the desert in his mouth assured him he’d slaughter everything that left his lips.
“A-are…” Yep. He wasn’t wrong.
She shook her head, denying his failed attempt to connect. Instead, her gaze spoke to him with fluency. She told him a story of heartache and loss, yearning and anger. She laid her pain at his feet and he took it in, letting it destroy him all over again.
“A-are…” Fuck. He chanced a step forward, one foot in front of the other, again and again in the hopes she was here to let him salvage something he didn’t deserve to have.
“It’s okay. You can use your phone if you want.”
No. He shook his head. His cell would be a last resort.
Her shoulders tensed the closer he approached, the depth of her inhalations growing once they came face to face, mere feet apart. He’d caged her into the corner, and still she didn’t move, didn’t slide away. She kept screaming to him with her expression. Beseeching him for his carelessness and begging him for his affection with the shiny glaze in her eyes.
He conveyed all he could with his returned look. He tried to tell her of his unending regret and the enormity of his love. His heart was pounding rapidly behind his sternum with the physical need for her to know. He couldn’t live without her witnessing his agony and vulnerability. Everything was hers to take.
She could have it all.
He took another step, the last step, and brought them toe to toe. Adrenaline poisoned his blood at her mere proximity and the accompanied perfume teasing his senses. He leaned in, testing the boundaries that should’ve been thick and impenetrable and stopped close to her ear.
“Are you here for me?” he whispered.
He retreated at her silence, his stomach rolling from the weight of the assault. Her pained expression didn’t give him a clue to her answer. It could be yes or no. Hope or defeat. Heaven or more torturous hell.
“Yes,” she murmured. “In my email, I told you I was going to see where the world takes me.” She lowered her gaze. “Apparently, it doesn’t want to take me anywhere without resolving this. I got as far as the airport before I had to turn back.”
Something hard slammed into his chest. Regret, maybe. Or overwhelming optimism. He straightened, needing to see her, all of her, before he could truly believe he had a chance.
She swallowed under his attention, her gorgeousness increasing with the impressive show of vulnerability. “I want to trust your emails, Keenan. Aunt Michelle even tried to convince me of your sincerity, but I need you to look me in the eye and tell me they were truthful.”
His palm itched, his hand rising of its own accord to approach the stray strands of hair framing her gorgeous face. He waited for her to slap his touch away, only to be greeted with a slight tremble of her lips as he gently cupped her cheek. There was never anything more profound or punishing than her fragility in that moment.
She was pliable under his touch. Broken under his attention.
“Truth,” he mouthed with solemn conviction.
A lone tear ran down her cheek. He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t protect himself against the miniscule amount of liquid that inspired nausea and almost brought him to his knees. The evidence of her pain hit his thumb, landing a punishing blow with such sweet efficiency.
He was so sorry—for the lies, for the betrayal, for the weakness. He didn’t want to hold back anymore. He needed her to see everything, to cast her gaze upon him with unfettered scrutiny and see everything he’d hidden.
“I wish I didn’t believe you.”
A shuddering breath left her lips and he leaned into it, sucking it into his lungs as he rested his forehead against hers. He stared into eyes that spoke to him on every level, and failed at holding in a tremble when she placed her gloved palm around his neck, holding him close.
Her touch burned him, even through her glove. Everything she did marked him. Scarred him. He inched closer, brushing their noses briefly, still waiting for her rejection as his mouth brushed hers. There was nothing more life changing than that kiss. His world shifted, his focus for the future narrowed entirely on one person. One remarkable woman.
His love was etched into every movement of his lips, into the glide of his tongue and the delicate sweep of his thumb over her cheek. He told her he adored her with every beat of his heart and the way he pulled their bodies close with his free arm, hugging her.
When they broke apart, she blinked back at him, her meaningful expression softening in what he hoped was reflected affection.
“I need you to promise me one thing.”
He nodded, willing to give up his soul if she asked.
“I want you to trust me. Maybe not right away…but soon. I need your trust really soon.”
“I will.” He nodded again, over and over. “I do.”
Her brows drew close, her gaze searching for the truth. He was sure she could see it laid bare for her to take. Nobody knew him like she did. Even through the deception, she still held more of him than anyone else ever had.
“Okay.” Tentatively, she buried her face in his neck, the action filled with nervous apprehension. “I feel like such an idiot for falling for you, Keenan. But I did. I love you, no matter how hard it is to admit.”
He stiffened, every inch of him taut. He’d heard the declaration before, from numerous women. Never from her. Never when the meaning laid a lifetime of happiness at his feet.
She’d broken him with three words.
Three syllables.
He pressed her back into the balustrade and rested his hips against hers. “I promise you the world,” he whispered.
She pulled away, frowning. “Your exaggeration doesn’t fill me with comfort, Keenan.”
“I promise you my world,” he clarified, hoping his almost silent tone didn’t lack persuasion. “I’ll give it all. I’ll give anything. That I promise.” It wasn’t an exaggeration. It wasn’t a lie. He was done with hiding from her. Finished with protecting himself at her expense. His life was hers to take, and with it came his secrets and his vulnerabilities.
“Thank you.” A smile nudged her lips, her restrained happiness sinking into his lungs.
He entwined their fingers and held them to his chest, hoping to reiterate his vow, not only to her, but to the Augustines who he knew were spying on them from one point or another in the house.
“They’re watching aren’t they?” she asked, reading his mind.
He laughed, this time not holding in the sound that came with it.
Her lips parted, her surprise evident in her wide eyes and tightening grip. “You can laugh?”
“Yeah, sweetheart,” he whispered with a kiss. “I can laugh.”
She shook her head, her awe inspiring a harsh pound behind his sternum. “I’m going to enjoy getting to know you again, aren’t I?”
He was banking on it. Praying for it. Settling all his hopes on the third time being the charm. “Ye
ah.” He nodded and lifted her off her feet. “I’m going to make sure you do.”
Email
Date: 26th November
Subject: This Is Crazy
Dear Keenan,
Are you as nervous as I am?
I woke up alone this morning and couldn’t stop wondering what you were doing. Being apart, even overnight, makes me miss you like crazy.
But it won’t be long now. I’m in the limousine, waiting to arrive at the wedding ceremony. You’re already somewhere in the chapel—at least I hope you are—and I’m dying from the need to see you in your immaculately tailored suit.
I wanted to take this moment to thank you for everything we’ve shared over the past year. Thank you for your trust and for letting me into your life. Thank you for sharing things with me that you’ve never shared with anyone else. And for making my reciprocated love so easy to give.
I can’t wait for you to sign those two words in front of the crowd. Then to whisper them across my neck at the reception. And speak them aloud against my lips once we’re alone in our honeymoon suite, just like you promised.
I do.
I do.
I do.
Because the third time will always be the charm.
Savannah
* * *
THE END
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Also by Eden Summers
Reckless Beat Series
Blind Attraction (Reckless Beat #1) - subscribe HERE for a free copy.
Passionate Addiction (Reckless Beat #2)
Reckless Weekend (Reckless Beat #2.5)
Undesired Lust (Reckless Beat #3)
Sultry Groove (Reckless Beat #4)
Reckless Rendezvous (Reckless Beat #4.5)
Undeniable Temptation (Reckless Beat #5)
Vault of Sin Series
A Shot of Sin (Vault of Sin #1)
Union of Sin (Vault of Sin #2)
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~Click Here For More Standalone Titles~
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Keep reading for a sneak preview of a Shot of Sin (Vault of Sin #1)
About the Author
Eden Summers is a true blue Aussie, living in regional New South Wales with her two energetic young boys and a quick witted husband.
In late 2010, Eden's romance obsession could no longer be sated by reading alone, so she decided to give voice to the sexy men and sassy women in her mind.
Eden can't resist alpha dominance, dark features and sarcasm in her fictional heroes and loves a strong heroine who knows when to bite her tongue but also serves retribution with a feminine smile on her face.
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Preview - A Shot of Sin
Chapter One
“Raspberry and vodka, thanks. And in a tall glass this time.”
Shay Porter acknowledged the order with a nod and prepared the guy’s drink with the last shot of vodka in the bottle. The man was a loner. Three nights a week, every week, he came to Shot of Sin. He ordered the same girlie beverage, chatted up the same high-class women and then went home sulking, as if he was the only one here who hadn’t anticipated the rejection.
Dumb fucker.
“Do you want a straw with that?” she called over the heavy club music, her smile insincere.
His hazel eyes narrowed. “The drink is for me,” he snarled and handed her the correct change.
She turned her back with a shrug and placed the money in the register. “Still a legitimate question, asshole,” she muttered, retrieving the empty liquor bottle from the overhead dispenser.
“Taunting the customers again, Shay?”
Her spine tingled at the gravel-rich tone. Leo Petrova, aka Mr. Boss Man, was one sexy hunk of masculinity. Skin tanned from an unending kiss of the Australian sun, hair long enough to be pulled into a short pony tail with wisps falling around his face to highlight intense blue-green eyes.
Change of panties needed at the main bar, please.
“He can’t expect to score when he orders girlie drinks like that.” She dumped the empty bottle in the bin beside his sexy muscled legs covered in coal Chino’s. When she lifted her gaze over his white buttoned shirt and met his focus, she subtly licked her lips, inwardly rejoicing at his narrowed gaze. She had to do these little things—smile seductively, plump her breasts, accidently trip over invisible objects and find herself plastered against his body. How else could she weaken his defenses? “The single women think he’s gay. I can’t stand to watch the carnage anymore.”
She turned on her heel and headed for the storeroom, hoping Leo would follow. As she flicked on the light in the darkened room behind the bar, she smiled, sensing his dominant presence at her back.
“Then quit,” he announced, sliding the door closed behind them, lessening the harsh thrum of music.
Quit? No. Under the thick layers of his hard-ass bravado, he was joking. She knew that. And he knew she would never leave. She loved working at Shot of Sin and the adjoining restaurant, Taste of Sin. This place was her second home. The bar staff she managed might not always appreciate her temperamental attitude, but her three bosses valued her contributions…most of the time. More importantly, they listened to her suggestions on improving the business. After five years of hopping from one employer to the next, she’d finally found a place worth sticking to. The eye candy her boss provided was an added bonus.
She glanced over her shoulder with a raised brow. Her body hummed with his proximity. What she wouldn’t give for him to push her against the side of the shelves and make her whimper in pleasure.
He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “We’ve spoken about your sassy mouth before. Either stop it, or take a walk.”
She cleared her throat to cover a chuckle. “Is that how you plan to work around the no-sleeping-with-staff policy?” She turned to the shelves in search of another vodka bottle. “Fire me so you can have your way with me? ’Cause I’m okay with that, as long as I’m a kept woman.”
His growl reverberated off the walls, making her nipples burn.
“Don’t push me tonight, Shayna.”
Ahhh? No nickname. Two points for getting under his skin.
“Or what?” She retrieved a bottle from the high shelf and faced him. “You know you won’t fire me. I’m the hardest worker you’ve got.” And hopefully the only one you’re attracted to.
She stepped forward, bringing them toe-to-toe. His gaze held her captive, staring her down. She knew he wouldn’t break the connection. One, because Mr. Dominant would never heel to a woman. And two, because she had the impression his aversion to kissing her weakened if he glanced lower to her lips. Or better still, to the cleavage he liked to eye-fuck whenever he thought she wasn’t watching. “I’m sure you could shut this sassy mouth without the threat of sacking me.”
His nostrils flared. There was attraction in those ocean eyes, no doubt about it. Only she knew he wouldn’t act upon it. Not yet anyway. He’d made it clear their first heated interlude had been a mistake. It wouldn’t stop her from taunting him with something she was more than willing to give though. One day she’d break through his no-relationships barrier, she just had to be patient.
He leaned in, positioning his mouth deliciously close to her ear, making her skin prickle with awareness. “I could shut you up, little girl, but I’d be scared of choking you with this big dick of mine.”
Shay pressed her lips together, fighting a burst of laughter threatening to break free. “I’ve got an exceptional gag reflex,” she murmured, letting the vodka bottle fall between them, the heavy weight brushing his crotch.
Voices echoed from the bar and Leo stiffe
ned, moving out of reach moments before the second boss in the trio of broodish men slid the door open. T.J. frowned as he cautiously entered the room. His brown-eyed gaze narrowed on Leo before turning Shay’s way.
“This doesn’t look inappropriate at all,” he drawled. “What are you two doing back here?”
Shay held up the liquor bottle in her hand. “I came to get a refill. I’m not entirely sure why he followed.”
Leo rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”
T.J. shook his head with a knowing grin and turned his attention to Leo. “Tracy broke her arm. She’s going to be out of action for a while.”
“Tracy?” Shay frowned.
“She works downstairs.”
Ahh. The illusive VIP lounge she’d never been allowed to step foot in. Apparently, being the most valued employee upstairs didn’t hold enough merit to see where all the beautiful people went each Saturday night.
“We don’t have anyone to replace her shift next week when Travis is away,” T.J. continued. “Bryan and I thought Shay could take her place.”
Shay’s eyes widened, not only at the new opportunity, but more shockingly that Bryan, aka Brute, would suggest she was capable of such a highly coveted role. He’d earned his nickname because of the harsh way he dealt with life. He was merciless, clinical, and rarely showed emotion. Most of the time, he was an accomplished grump who liked to hide any enthusiasm under snarky insults. This suggestion proved her theory that underneath all the angst, he truly was a soft, cuddly bear.
Like hell she was going to point out the uncharacteristic comment though. Downstairs intrigued her. She’d already spent months in the adjoining Taste of Sin restaurant earning their respect before they’d let her work in the dance club part of the business. Now she wanted to hit the big time. The door leading to the private part of the club was always protected each Saturday by a security guard. Not even long-term Shot of Sin staff could enter, and she’d never met anyone who worked behind the sacred walls.