Contingent

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by Livia Jamerlan




  Contingent

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Connect with Livia

  Contingent

  Copyright © 2015 by Livia Jamerlan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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

  Content Editor:

  Jennifer Roberts-Hall, Indie After Hours

  Proofreader:

  Shawna Gavas, Behind the Writer

  Interior Design and Formatting:

  Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable

  www.perfectlypublishable.com

  Cover Design:

  Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative Covers

  www.ppccovers.com

  Paperback ISBN: 978–0-9906809–5-6

  Ebook ISBN: 978–0-9906809–6-3

  To the readers.

  If you are reading this book, then you have been on this journey with me.

  Thank you for your love and support.

  Peyton

  Present

  I had lost her.

  And not like before. Not like when she pushed me away and I’d refused to leave. This time, I had lost all of her.

  Her heart.

  Her adoration.

  It was all gone.

  The love she’d had for me vanished. Her eyes changed when she looked at me; the brilliance in them faded.

  I had betrayed her in the worst possible way.

  Braelynn was the only woman I’d ever loved. She was the one who changed my entire life. All I’d ever wanted to do was protect her, and I had spent months trying to do just that. I wanted to keep her away from my past—away from secrets that could hurt her and destroy us. But instead, I’d stomped on our relationship, dragging her heart through the mud in the process. Her pain and her heartache were entirely my fault.

  She might never forgive me for what I did.

  The day he showed up at my office changed everything. I shouldn’t have let him blackmail me but I was caught off guard, and the only thing I’d wanted to do was shelter Braelynn from harm’s way.

  I watched as she sat on the couch, her loose tendrils covering the tears that dripped from her eyes. The cut on her lip had swollen in the past thirty minutes. Her eye was bruising, turning shades of blue and purple with each passing second. The sling that the paramedics had placed over her body was supporting her right arm. She held her head low while talking to the authorities. Her hands were coated with his dried blood.

  She glanced in my direction and her eyes told me everything.

  With that one look, I knew I had lost her.

  Forever.

  Melissa tapped on my glass office wall. Looking up, I noticed her point to the elevator and give me the thumbs up. I need to give my secretary a raise for putting up with the unstable man she works for, I thought to myself.

  It had been a little over a month since I last saw Braelynn. She had ignored every one of my calls and she wouldn’t speak to me. Any time I tried to see her she avoided me, and the few short times I did bump into her, she wouldn’t even look at me. Her green eyes had always been the conduits to her emotions. Without being able to look deeply into them, I had no inkling how she felt.

  She’d given me no choice but to lie to get her here. She would be pissed but at least she had come. There was one thing Braelynn never did half-assed, and that was her job. She took pride in what people thought of her in the workplace. So I had Melissa reach out to her and explain that there was an old case she had worked on while at PH Esquire, and the client would only speak to Braelynn.

  She took the bait.

  She looked beautiful in a tight gray skirt and orange blouse. I tried to hide the grin that I knew was spreading across my cheeks. Her heels had slammed against the marble floors before stopping at Melissa’s desk. I assumed she’d want to talk to this previous client and leave as quickly as possible. When Melissa began to explain that there was no client, her face whipped in my direction and her nose crinkled with anger. She tossed her bag on Melissa’s desk and marched towards me. I loved this fiery vixen that couldn’t hold her tongue and braced myself for her anger.

  “I have a job across town!” she shouted, stomping into my office. “I have cases I need to review. I have a schedule I need to maintain. What do you want?”

  “You!” I stood, resting my hands on my desk. It was a simple answer. She was what I wanted. What I needed to get back.

  “I did not get stuck in rush hour traffic to hear this.” She marched over to my desk and mimicked my pose on the opposite side. “Do not summon me with some bullshit excuse again. I am not your dog, Peyton. I do not come when you call!” She stood and twirled back towards the door.

  “You do not walk away from me!” I knew how to push her buttons. If she walked out of my office now, it would take me months to get her back.

  She looked back, and her eyes pierced through me with hatred. “We are over. I don’t know how many more ways I have to paint it for you, Peyton,” her finger pointing between our bodies, “but I can’t do this anymore. You lied to me for months. I cried myself to sleep so many times. And for what? Because you were a coward!”

  I walked around my desk, meeting her in the middle of the office. “We. Are. Not. Over. That will never be true. We’re never going to be over because I won’t allow it. Get that through your head. I won’t ever get over you, so us being over is irrelevant.” I lifted my hand to touch her cheek, but she pulled away.

  “We’ve done this song and dance before.” Her voice cracked with the pain I’d caused her. “I can’t go back to living that way.”

  “How many times do you want me to apologize?” I reached for her forearm and she didn’t stop me. “Come back to me, Braelynn. Forgive me.”

  “Please stop . . .” She looked at my hands on her skin. I knew she felt the electric current running through us because where our fingers connected, I felt the same current.

  “I love you.” It was all I could say.

  “Stop. I’m tired of your mind games. I cried for so long, thinking of everything I could have possibly done wrong. And it was you, not me.” She yanked her arm away. “I’m not a toy that sits on your shelf to play with when you’re bored and horny. I am not the girl who will run back to you because you said you were sorry and that you love me. You want me to forgive you, earn me! Until then, there is no us.” She paraded out of my office.

  If she wanted me to earn her, I would.

  Braelynn
belonged with me.

  Peyton

  Seven Months Earlier

  Braelynn lay naked on the white linen sheet in my bed, her golden blonde hair fanned out across her pillow. She was my all. The one to come into my life and cause havoc, claiming my heart. She was my everything. My greatest desire. The fuel that pumped through my veins.

  The sun beamed down on her skin, glistening on her flawless fair body.

  Almost flawless.

  The marks from our recent times in the playroom were still visible. Her wrists were tucked under her chin, revealing crimson burns from pulling on the restraints, and her plump breasts were scarred from the lashes of the flogger. As my gaze moved down her naked form, I noted that her upper thighs held the same marks as her breasts.

  Ever since she’d rejected my proposal, I’d felt she was slipping away. The grasp I had on her was fading, and my need for her had been replaced with rage and want. I needed to punish her for saying no; to whip her flesh when I felt her slipping out of my hands. I reveled in her moans. Her screams of pleasure made me hungry for more. Her arousal, when I slid deep inside her, had me on the brink of losing myself. The way she came around me, choking my cock—it was indescribable. But when she bowed her head, her blonde hair covering her face as she submitted to me, that had my inner Dom crawling out of my body, wanting to take full reign over hers.

  And I did.

  For the past six weeks, she’d spent every night with me, letting me have full possession of her weak body. But the nagging voice in my head kept warning me that our time was limited.

  “You’re doing it again,” she whispered, her voice filled with exhaustion. Her eyes peeked open when she spoke.

  I leaned forward, kissing the tip of her nose. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.

  “Yes, you do. You’re thinking so loud I can hear it in my sleep.”

  “Lynn—”

  “Stop it!” Her eyes flashed open, and a sea of green and brown specks pierced me. “You aren’t hurting me.”

  I shook my head, completely disagreeing with her. “Look at the bruises on your skin.” I traced my hand over her soft breast.

  “I have a safe word and I have yet to use it.” Braelynn pulled the covers over her blemished flesh and turned on her side.

  She hadn’t used it . . . yet.

  But would she?

  Braelynn kicked the bed sheets from her bare body, rose from the bed, and headed towards the bathroom. “You coming?” she shouted back at me.

  My eyes locked on her heart shaped ass as it swayed when she crossed the room. She had never gone to bed with clothes. Not since she came back to me. There was no point; they always got in the way. Even when we weren’t having sex, I wanted her skin on mine. I took the pillow she had rested on and secured it over my face, then I bit the pillow case as I growled.

  Every morning it was the same routine. We woke up curled in each other’s arms, showered and got ready for work. She acted like what I had done to her the previous night had never occurred. In the heat of the moment, when I craved her the most, I couldn’t control it. The way her skin was unblemished until I came into contact with it . . . the crimson, soft shade before it became darker . . . it drove me mad. Animalistic.

  I followed her into the bathroom. Steam from the hot water coated the mirror with thick condensation, and through the glass shower wall I watched as she moved the washcloth along her skin. Her head eased back under the cascading shower. I grew hard as I walked closer to the shower door. Her luscious body dripping wet . . . the way the soapsuds slid down her skin . . .

  I had to have her.

  Climbing into the shower, I tugged on her wrist, pulling her close. She whimpered at my demand but came willingly. I brushed back the wet hair that covered her face and looked deep into her hunter-green eyes. It was like looking into a deep-green forest on a summer day.

  I brought my lips down to hers, claiming her mouth. Her arms locked around my neck, tugging on my hair as she moaned and pressed her round tits into my chest. I pulled away from her lips, nipping at them before I brought my mouth to her erect nipple. My tongue swirled around her barbell and then flicked the tip. Pressing both of her breasts together, I took turns savoring one and then the other, only to start all over again.

  Her soft cries informed me how ready she was for me. I had always been rough with her at night. When the sun went down the demon came out and I was like a werewolf—howling at the midnight moon and craving her pain as my desire. But during the day I was the Peyton she needed. Tender to the touch.

  She leaned back until her spine hit the cool tile behind her. Her tiny fingers ran through my wet hair before framing my face. Braelynn pulled my lips back to hers, kissing me, showing her need for me. I loved her hunger for me.

  “Are you sore?” I asked against her mouth. The previous night I had taken it too far in the playroom, fucking her repeatedly and making her come until she was numb.

  “No,” she moaned, her fingers running down my body, tracing each of my abdominal muscles before she found my cock. She stroked my length. “Not one tiny bit. And I’m soaking wet.”

  My lips located her neck and I licked the soft skin as my hands cupped her butt cheeks. Her petite body made it easy for me to hold her up in the air. Watching her soaked body under the steaming hot water as I took her made me insatiable.

  Her arms locked around my neck before I slid inside her. Tight, warm, and succulent as always. Her core was my kryptonite.

  The hot water cascaded down our bodies as I pumped up and she bounced down. Her mouth was unrelenting as it attacked my neck, face and shoulder. We began our pace towards bliss, and it wasn’t till I felt her walls tighten on my girth that I slammed her back against the wall. Braelynn pushed her breasts up, shoving them in my face. I was balls deep, nipples in my mouth, her moans echoing in the bathroom when we both came.

  That was what our life consisted of almost every morning.

  “Move in with me?” I asked for the fifth time this week. She stood at the dresser, braiding her hair to the side. She sighed deeply, closing her eyes before she answered me.

  “No.” She looked at me in the dresser mirror. I had asked her almost every day for the last six weeks and she had always given me the same answer.

  “Lynn—”

  “Why?” She turned to face me, her hands moving to rest on her hips. “Why do you want me to move in? I’m here every single day.” She turned back to the dresser, not waiting for my reply. I watched as she put her makeup bag away before she grabbed her suit jacket from the hanger. She was a bit dressier than normal, but I ignored it, focusing on the argument we were about to have. Morning sex, followed by annoying argument, followed by afternoon playtime. Not that I was complaining.

  “Exactly! You’re here every day. Why would you continue to pay for the brownstone when Kennedy has moved out?” I followed her out of the bedroom.

  “Because it’s my apartment, whether Kennedy is there or not.” She rested her hands on the doorframe of the bedroom, waiting for me to follow.

  “Braelynn—” I reached out to grasp her chin. Maybe if I could take her again, she would agree.

  Swatting my hand away, she barked back. “No, Peyton, I like having my place. This is your house, and though I spend every day here, I don’t want to get rid of mine. End of discussion.”

  “I will convince you,” I threatened her. My hand located the nape of her neck and tugged on her braid.

  Her eyes gazed down at my growing erection, and a sly smile appeared on her face before she spoke. “You can try, love.”

  Though my efforts to convince Braelynn to move in with me had gone out the window, I followed her into the elevator before we were both late. The aroma of my dark roast coffee filled the elevator as the doors slid shut. Thomas and Louis were waiting for us as we stepped off of the elevator and into the garage. Braelynn lifted to her tippy toes to kiss my cheek. “I’ll see you when you’re done in court.”


  I grasped her upper arm and turned her back to me. “We aren’t done with this conversation.”

  “I know, Haas.” She pouted up at me and we went our separate ways.

  Court was the same as always. I sat aside as the firm’s other associates addressed the issues. When the District Attorney approached me, we exchanged pleasantries and I ignored him for the most part as I packed my briefcase.

  “ . . . she works in your office, correct?”

  She? That was when my mind began to function. Though I had plenty of female employees, the feeling that crept up my spine told me he was talking about Braelynn.

  “I’m sorry, who?” I asked as I shoved the last file in my briefcase.

  “Braelynn Wolf?”

  “Why are you asking?” I slammed my case shut. Paul Fisher had been the DA for the past few years. He wasn’t a douche; just a hard ass who wanted every criminal behind bars. I didn’t blame him, especially when he got the confession from Drew, but we constantly bumped heads in the courtroom.

  “She interviewed earlier today for an associate position we have available. My secretary is calling your office to see if she is assigned to any cases that may cause a conflict of interest before we offer her the position. But when I saw you here, I figured I’d ask you directly.”

  My teeth ground together and rage covered me like a second skin. She had interviewed for a position with the District Attorney. What the fuck? “Call my office. They’ll inform you of anything you need.” I pushed past him and headed straight for the exit.

  The ride back to PH Esquire seemed to take forever. I slammed the car door shut, not waiting for Louis, and marched straight into the elevator. I waited as patiently as I could as the numbers rose on the screen. The elevator door slid open and, without taking a second to think, I strode straight to her office.

  “You interviewed for a job with the DA?” I shouted the second my body was through her office door.

  Her head had been buried in paperwork, but she snapped it up to look at me. “Who told you?” Her eyes were wide with fear.

 

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