Take Me

by Anna Zaires, Pepper Winters, Skye Warren, Lynda Chance, Pam Godwin, Amber Lin

  After I had finished bouncing against him, he held me firmly against his chest and brushed my hair back from my face. I was about to apologize or at least try to say something cute about my uninhibited performance when he bit his lip and tilted his head toward the door.

  “Um, baby…” he said, his expression one of concern.

  I heard the sound of a throat clearing from across the room.

  Liz was leaning against the far wall, a box of crackers in her hand, happily munching away and watching us put on a show.

  “Liz! What the hell?”

  Aiden only chuckled. He pulled out from inside me and covered me with his discarded T-shirt that lay next to us on the floor. Only that meant he was left completely exposed, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  Liz’s lips curled up in a devilish grin. “Damn. You let him put that whole thing inside you?” she asked, eyeing his still-hard cock.

  “Liz!” I screamed. It was so not okay that she was practically drooling over his erection. A surge of jealousy swelled up inside me. “Cover that damn thing up,” I shouted at Aiden. I mean, I got that he was proud of it, and rightly so, but that didn’t mean anyone but me was allowed to see it. And damn if it wasn’t standing there in all its glory, proudly announcing that Aiden and I were back together.

  “How long have you been here?” I demanded, tugging his T-shirt over my head. My hair was currently sporting a just fucked look, but that was the least of my worries.

  “A few minutes, tops. And shit, you guys were hot.”

  “A few minutes!” I released a frustrated huff.

  “I didn’t want to interrupt your orgasm,” she explained, pouring herself a glass of wine from the bottle on my counter. “It’s what any good friend would do in this situation.”

  Aiden chuckled again and grabbed his jeans and boxer briefs, holding them in front of his manhood, and shuffled off for the bathroom. He reemerged with his pants riding low on his hips and his chest bare, still looking entirely too sexy for Liz’s viewing pleasure. Of course he was still smiling, like none of this even remotely bothered him.

  “What are you doing here?” I’d forgotten about the spare key I’d given to her when Aiden had moved out. I snatched the box of crackers from her and set them roughly on the counter.

  “You sort of bailed out on me without an explanation tonight. Then you weren’t answering your phone. I came to check on you. Make sure you hadn’t slit your wrists or done anything stupid.”

  Aiden winced and immediately pulled me closer to him.

  “Sorry, um, I was…”

  “Having hot, sweaty sex. Yeah, I saw that and you’re forgiven.” She finished the wine in a single gulp. “But you.” She pointed at Aiden. “If you ever hurt her like that again, I’ll personally hunt you down and cut your balls off with a rusty butter knife.”

  He gulped and held me protectively in front of him.

  “You planning on sticking around this time?” Liz asked, fixing him with her gaze.

  “I’ll marry her tomorrow if she’ll let me,” he answered, his voice not wavering in the slightest.

  I turned to face him and saw that without a doubt, he was serious. He cupped my face and held my eyes with his. “Will you, baby? Marry me?” I tried to answer, to say something, but emotion had robbed me of my voice. Tears spilled over and rolled down my cheeks.

  He brushed the tears away with his fingertips. “Not today, not tomorrow, but someday soon?”

  I merely nodded and his lips were back on mine. His kiss was anything but innocent, and I quickly forgot about our company when his tongue began flirting with mine.

  Liz laughed. “As much as I’d love to stay and see a repeat of that earlier performance, I have a feeling I better go.”

  We didn’t even wait for the door to close. Aiden was already tugging the T-shirt over my head, and I lifted my arms to help him before the latch clicked. I reached down to unbutton his jeans, finding him hard and ready for me again.

  He gazed into my eyes and stroked my bottom lip lovingly with his thumb. “Mine,” he whispered.

  “Yes, yours. Only yours. Always.”

  Epilogue

  Aiden

  One Month Later

  I looked around the empty loft one last time. It was strange to think I’d lived here for four years, yet felt zero connection to the place. The massive king bed was too firm, the kitchen gadgets too high-tech and the stiff leather furniture too modern to actually be comfortable.

  After living in Ashlyn’s cramped, yet homey apartment this place just seemed too cold, too clinical with its exposed duct work ceilings and concrete floors. I was glad to be moving on, moving away from the man I no longer knew, and towards the one I wanted to become.

  I’d packed most of my clothes and personal belongings and decided the rest I could do without. I’d put the loft on the market fully furnished to my realtors surprise, just wanting to get rid of it all and start over.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket and I reached down to fish it out while juggling the large duffle bag containing most of my belongings. Shit. It was Logan again.

  I frowned and slide the phone back inside my pocket. It wasn’t that I hadn’t appreciated everything she’d told me about my former self – I had. I learned that I had a gym membership to a club downtown, and what topics I’d been most interested in teaching as a history professor, and even my favorite foods (sushi, and Mexican – in that order).

  But the more time that passed without even a hint of my memory being restored, or me returning any feelings for her, the more persistent she became. And when I’d called her last night to tell her that Ashlyn and I were officially moving in together, she’d broken down in tears, so I left out the part where I’d sort of asked Ashlyn to marry me. It wasn’t an official proposal yet anyways, so no sense in throwing salt in the wound.

  Part of me felt bad for Logan – I mean obviously I had loved her deeply at one time, I had her name tattooed on my bicep for Christ’s sake – but her past had come back to haunt us both and ultimately drove us apart. The other part of me realized that if I hadn’t ended up with amnesia, I would have never met Ashlyn, a thought that did not sit well with me.

  I closed and locked the door to my old loft – and my old life – one last time, eager to get back to my beautiful girl waiting for me at our new condo, and unable to keep a smile from crossing my lips at the mere thought.

  Aut viam inveniam aut faciam tibi. I will either find a way, or make one.

  The End

  Be sure to check out MAKE ME YOURS, book 2 in the Unravel Me series

  About Kendall Ryan

  Kendall Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the contemporary romance novels HARD TO LOVE, FILTHY BEAUTIFUL LIES, RESISTING HER and many others.

  She’s a sassy, yet polite Midwestern gal with a deep love of books, and a slight addiction to lipgloss! She has a bachelor’s degree in Marketing, a few too many book boyfriends and two very naughty puppies.

  To learn more, visit her at: www.KendallRyanBooks.com

  Visit Kendall Ryan

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  Torrent

  Gemma James

  Copyright © 2014 Gemma James

  Edited by Jessica Nollkamper

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Note to Readers

  TORRENT is a new adult dark romance with disturbin
g themes and explicit content, including sexual scenes and violence that may offend some. Intended for mature audiences. Part one of the CONDEMNED series. This is not a stand-alone read, and it does have a cliffhanger! There will be at least THREE parts to this series. Approximately 43,000 words.

  To my husband James, whose support and encouragement means everything to me. Thanks for believing in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. I love you.

  Prologue

  Alex

  We’d left the gravesite two hours ago, but Mom’s lifeless eyes still accused me. The memory of finding her dead in the bathtub, the water deep and murky with her blood, embedded in my brain like a tattoo I couldn’t erase.

  I stood in my bedroom, a space inundated with white lacy subterfuge, and sensed the uprising in my soul. Grief turned and boiled with a vengeance. I clenched my hands and crossed them over heaving breasts but couldn’t stop the eruption. I’d been simmering too long, unchecked. I hated my perfect room, my perfect family, my perfect life. Appearances were deceitful bitches that lied and covered the ugly truth.

  “Open the door, Lex!” Frantic fists pounded, and I covered my ears to block out my step-brother’s barrage on the door. The first drop of misery fell from my eyes and despite squeezing them shut, I was incapable of stemming the mental pictures. They flickered in my head like a child’s View-Master reel.

  I relived Mom’s horrified expression the night she heard me cry out, recalled the condemnation in her voice when she yelled at Zach to get out of my room. I still saw her wide eyes—the same green as mine—staring at me blankly a few days later, open and void as the life bled from her wrists.

  “Let me in!”

  “Go away!” I screamed, repulsed by the mere sound of his voice. A sob caught in my throat, and my body shook with the effort of holding back. I was trapped inside myself, a prisoner of rage and despair. Bursting with the need to tear into something, I dug my nails into my arms.

  Her face wouldn’t leave my mind. Her beautiful face, twisted with shock and disgust at what she’d walked in on. I’d been too ashamed to explain. Now it was too late. I’d never see her again, never again inhale the sweet scent of jasmine as she embraced me.

  Zach’s fault. My fault.

  My nails dragged down pale flesh, almost of their own volition, and left behind ugly red streaks. Letting out a roar, I hefted a chair into the vanity mirror. My reflection shattered with an echo, a grotesque replica of my soul. I was unstoppable, insane with the need to destroy, to create the sound over and over again. Breaths coming in shallow gasps, I swept candles onto the floor, followed by pictures and perfumes. My entire makeup collection crashed onto the white carpet where the colors stained with flawless imperfection, but the pressure in my chest wouldn’t subside.

  The assault on my door grew in strength, and I thought I picked up another voice blending with Zach’s. Had to be my imagination. Dad had barricaded himself in his bedroom, just like me, though he had a sedative and a bottle of Jack to keep him company.

  Afternoon sunshine streamed through the lace curtains, an assault of warmth on my face, and I scowled. The skies should have opened, should have drenched the earth until it drowned. On that day, the day I’d watched my mother go into the ground, the whole fucking world should’ve cried until their eyes bled.

  I grasped the lamp on my nightstand and hurtled it through the window, eliciting that glorious sound of splintering glass again, and I screamed until my voice went raw like the rest of me. The door broke under Zach’s struggle to get inside, and I fell backward, landing hard on the bed with both hands raised.

  “Leave me alone,” I said with a pleading sob. He’d never gone so far as to break down my door. My room had been my only sanctuary, other than those few horrible occasions when I found him lying in wait in the darkness; those times when I wasn’t quick enough to escape within my four walls and turn the lock. “Don’t touch me!”

  Strong hands encircled my wrists and pulled them to the sides, but it was Rafe’s beautiful green eyes staring back and not my brother’s. Tension seeped from my bones, left me weightless, and I exhaled in relief when he knelt in front of me, elbows resting on my thighs. A significant moment passed, locking the two of us in that short span of time when the world magically receded.

  “I’ve got you. Everything’s gonna be okay.” His arms wound around my trembling body, and I went limp in the cocoon of his embrace.

  Zach stood off to the side, arms crossed and gaze shooting daggers in our direction. I stiffened under the threat of his jealousy, and not even Rafe’s warmth could combat the chill that seized me. I wanted to believe him so badly, but nothing would ever be okay again.

  Chapter One

  Escape

  Alex

  Eight Years Later

  When it came to karma, I wished for skepticism. Thing was, I fully believed in karma. Something had to balance the scales, otherwise the world would tip off its axis and crash into total chaos. Thanks to my belief in supernatural balance, I had no doubt I was screwed. That was never more true than when I gripped the single piece of paper on which four words were written.

  I’m coming for you.

  I’d found the note tacked to my door. I didn’t question who left it, as only one person had reason to leave such a warning, and considering he’d been released from the state penitentiary three weeks ago, I couldn’t deny the evidence. I’d been agonizing over the moment when he would confront me.

  When, not if.

  My knees gave out, and I sank to the bed. Rain beat against the roof in a sudden onslaught, and the panes of my favorite window seat rattled. I hadn’t been home for more than a few minutes, but apparently I’d escaped inside at the most opportune time. I took the torrential tap-tap-tap and rush of wind as a sign, an omen perhaps.

  He was coming for me, and I deserved it.

  Someone pounded on the door, and I jumped like a frightened kitten. I stashed the note in the drawer of my nightstand and returned to the foyer, pulled the door open, and almost expected to find Rafe on the other side.

  It was Zach, not Rafe, who shoved past the threshold. Immediately, the strong odor of whiskey hit my nose.

  “You’re not fuckin’ marrying him,” he said with a slur. I edged away as he stumbled into the accent table in the foyer. “I’m going crazy, Lex. Look what you’ve done to me.” Wiping soggy brown hair from his eyes, he lurched forward and clung to my shoulder to keep from falling.

  “Did you drive here?”

  “Of course I didn’t drive! I’m not an idiot.”

  “I know you’re not an—”

  He grabbed my chin, silencing me instantly. “You’re gonna call this engagement off, do you hear me?”

  The ever-present weight of dread held me in its clutches. “Dad pushed for it.” I paused, one, two, three thuds of my heart pounding in my ears. “Just like he pushed for me to date Lucas. I think he knows.”

  “Knows what?” His fingers fell from my chin, and I stared at my feet, enclosed in trendy black heels that matched the black cocktail dress I’d worn to dinner, where Lucas Perrone had proposed.

  “About us.”

  He faltered, mouth gaping, and it was the most unusual sight. Zach didn’t normally struggle for words, threats, insults.

  He blinked and the moment was gone. “I don’t give a fuck what Dad knows or doesn’t know. You’re gonna break this engagement, and you’re not seeing him again.” As if the issue were settled, he staggered into the living room where he sprawled onto the sofa, one leg bent and a foot resting on the floor. I averted my gaze from the bulge behind his zipper.

  I needed to get him out of my house pronto. “I’ll call you a cab. We’ll talk tomorrow about this, I promise.”

  He let out a bitter laugh. “My cab just left, and we’re talkin’ now.” His brows narrowed over angry hazel eyes. “C’mere,” he said, patting his lap.

  I backed up, shaking my head.

  “No? You want it extra rough? Is
that it?”

  I didn’t want it at all, but I knew better than to voice it. I scratched my arm, digging in a little deeper than usual.

  “You think marrying some mid-forties vanilla hack is gonna ‘fix’ you? Make you normal? We both know you’re nothing but a slut.”

  I clenched my teeth. His insult maimed more than his hands did, especially since he was the only man I’d ever slept with. He perceived any guy who glanced in my direction as a threat, as if I welcomed the attention, and he’d become downright vicious since Dad set me up with Lucas.

  Dad had always made decisions for me, from what school I attended to which program I chose as a major. I’d earned degrees in accounting and business but harbored no desire to use them. He expected me to hop on board the family legacy in a managerial capacity, but unlike him and Zach, I had no interest in mixed martial arts or running an enterprise of venues and training centers.

  I chalked it up to the fact that we didn’t share DNA. Mom married Abbott De Luca when I was six, but he was like a dad to me, especially since he’d legally adopted me, and as such, I’d never thought of Zach as a step-brother. Not where it counted. The step part got lost in the sea of right and wrong and perversely unacceptable.

  I folded my arms and put another foot of distance between us, backing toward the foyer. No one made me more uncomfortable in my own house, in my own skin, than my own brother.

  He seemed pissed that I wasn’t rising to his bait by responding. “You’re my slut, aren’t you, Lex?” He pushed off the couch, as if he only now realized I was retreating, and gripped my arms. “My little whore who loves to be fucked.”