by Ramona Gray
UNDENIABLY THEIRS
By Ramona Gray
Copyright © 2018 Ramona Gray
Published by
EK Publishing Inc.
e-ISBN: 978-1-988826-66-0
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be reproduced, scanned or distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy.
Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Adult Reading Material
Edited by
L. Nunn Editing
Cover Art by
The Final Wrap
UNDENIABLY THEIRS
By Ramona Gray
Two is always better than one...
Chloe Matthew’s fresh start recipe:
Step one: new job at Dawson Clothing—check
Step two: stop worrying about sister—easier said than done.
Step three: find nice safe guy and fall in love—too bad Chloe can’t one-click buy that.
Except tossing a complete stranger into the mix, banging him like a screen door, and having the best sex of her life could make her life’s recipe fall flat. And that whole sneaking out before the hot stranger wakes up? Not her finest moment.
But new co-worker, Jackson Black, is just what she’s looking for. Handsome. Reliable. Wicked sense of humour. Sleeping with a co-worker has never been so tempting.
Only, Jackson is more than a splash of vanilla. He shares everything with his best friend, Ian—including women.
Will Jackson’s desires tear apart Chloe’s vision of the perfect life? Or can they make something even better since the sexy-as-sin, Ian Aldrin, is the stranger she spent one deliciously dirty night with?
* * *
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Chapter One
Chloe stared at the amber liquid. She normally avoided liquor of any kind, afraid she had the mutated gene or weakness or whatever the hell it was that ran in their family. Becoming like Lori or her mother was a low-grade fear in the pit of her stomach that never really went away.
But tonight?
Fuck tonight.
Tonight, she deserved a goddamn drink. One drink didn’t make her a damn drunk. She had stopped at the first bar she came across. That this bar was attached to a hotel made no difference to her.
Her grandmother didn’t live right in the Badlands. But she was close enough to its outskirts that a place like this, only ten minutes from her grandma’s home, was on the seedier side. No doubt her sister frequented this place on a regular basis.
It was confirmed when a man slid onto the stool next to her and placed his hand on her leg. “Hey, Lori, you looking to make some extra cash tonight? I can get us a room upstairs and -”
She pushed his hand off her leg as he squinted at her. “Sorry, you ain’t who I thought you was.”
He hopped off the stool and nearly fell on his ass before catching himself on the edge of the bar. Straightening his ratty coat around him, he gave her an oddly dignified bow before staggering away.
She returned to her drink. Lifted the cheap glass. Studied the cheap bourbon in the dim light.
Drank.
It burned her throat and made her eyes water. She coughed, wiped her mouth and coughed again before setting the glass down.
There was movement to her right. The bartender – an overweight blonde with mileage on her face and a smoker’s cough – appeared almost immediately. She purposely didn’t look, purposely ignored the little shiver that went down her back at the surprisingly deep, surprisingly sober sounding voice of the man who sat beside her.
“I’ll take a whiskey and another of whatever my friend is having.”
“No.” Chloe lifted her head and stared at the bartender. “I don’t want another drink. You have me mistaken for someone else. I’m not Lori, and I’m not gonna blow you for a goddamn drink.”
There was silence beside her. The bartender’s overgrown eyebrows were raised in astonishment. She gave Chloe a girl-you-are-a-fucking-idiot look before smiling at the man.
“One whiskey, coming right up, sweetheart. I’ll get you the good stuff.”
“Thank you.”
Another little shiver. God, his voice was insanely deep. She decided it wouldn’t hurt to take one quick glance at the man who was probably one of many men in this bar who had fucked Lori for a handful of drinks and a carton of cigarettes.
She turned her head, peeked, and froze.
Holy shit. He was beautiful.
Adonis beautiful.
Dark hair, dark eyes, sexy stubble, beautiful.
She looked him up and down without a speck of shame. When one stumbled upon a god in broad daylight – well, dim bar light – one did not just simply look away. He was dressed in a leather jacket and jeans with dark boots. The jacket stretched across his broad shoulders and the jeans hugged his thick thighs. Her core tightened at the sizeable bulge at his crotch.
His clothing was too expensive for a place like this. He looked out of place. A glitch in the regularly scheduled programming. A pearl in a sea of pebbles.
His smile revealed perfect white teeth. “Hello, not Lori. My name is -”
“I’m not interested in your name.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “Is there anything about me you are interested in?”
She paused. “No.”
His grin really should come attached with a warning sign of impending danger. “Did you… hesitate?”
“No.”
“Huh. I could have sworn there was hesitation.” His dark eyes studied her, made her feel like a bug trapped under glass.
She fidgeted on the bar stool, smoothed down her red hair, and told herself to just stand up and leave already.
“So, tell me, Red. What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”
“Seriously? That’s the pick-up line you’re going to use?” She said.
“Not a pick-up line. I’m genuinely curious what a girl like you is doing in this bar. You don’t exactly fit in with the rest of the clientele.”
“Neither do you.”
“True.”
“Besides, you know nothing about me,” she said. “Maybe I’m a drunk. Maybe I go to whatever bar I find.”
“Maybe. But drunks don’t normally turn down free drinks. Nor do they wear seven hundred dollar Dawson suits.”
“Into fashion, are we?” She studied his hands. One rested on the bar and the other was curled around his drink. They were big hands. Rough hands. Hands that were meant for –
Tangling in your hair? Undressing you? Making you come?
Her traitorous skin flamed bright red.
She raised her gaze to his face. The look on it suggested that maybe he knew why she was blushing.
“I’m not particularly into fashion,” he said, “but I have recently become more knowledgeable about that particular brand.”
“Why?”
“Well, I -”
“Lori? Bitch, where you been?” A heavy hand fell on her shoulder and she cringed. “You wanna give me a handie in the bathroom? I’ll
buy you a fuckin’ drink if you – ow! Jesus, fuck!”
The weight of his hand disappeared. The man sitting beside her was now standing. The man who had touched her was on his knees on the dirty floor. Her new friend was bending his thumb at an almost impossible angle.
“The lady isn’t Lori,” he said. “Apologize, please.”
“Let me the fuck go, you fucking – OW! Motherfucker!”
Oh God. Chloe stared at the drunk’s thumb as the man bent it back even further. The drunk was starting to cry, snot bubbling out of one nostril, as her new friend made a polite smile.
“Apologize to the lady.”
“I’m sorry,” the drunk moaned. “I’m sorry, lady. I thought you was someone else.”
“That’s fine,” Chloe said.
He released the drunk immediately and the man climbed to his feet and staggered away. The bartender approached and leaned her sizeable rack against the bar. She’d unbuttoned three of the buttons, and Chloe stared at the spray-tanned flesh bulging out from the top of her bra.
“You need another drink, sweetheart?”
“No, thank you,” the man said.
“My name is Gina. You need anything, you just holler. Okay?” She traced one pink-painted talon down his forearm. “Anything.”
“Thank you, Gina.”
He waited until she left before turning to Chloe. “You okay?”
“Yes, thank you. That was um, very nice and also terrifying to watch.”
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“No, I didn’t mean that you – I should go.”
He rested his hand on her forearm. “Stay and tell me why you’re here.”
She couldn’t tell this complete stranger her sob story. The smart thing to do was to leave. Instead of leaving, she said, “Lori is my sister. She’s a drunk. I was visiting her tonight and it didn’t go well. I stopped in at a bar because – honestly, I don’t really know why, I hate drinking. But here I am, at the first bar I found. Apparently, she spends a lot of time here trading sexual favours for alcohol. The worst part is – I’m not even surprised by that. She’s ruining my life. I don’t know how to stop allowing her to take all the good things from me. I’m not strong enough to kick her out of my life.”
She glanced at him, saw pity in his eyes, and slid off the barstool. She rarely spoke about her sister outside of Al-Anon meetings. She didn’t want anyone’s pity, let alone this sexy stranger’s.
“Wait,” he said.
“I have to go.” She hurried across the bar and pushed open the door to the hotel lobby. The lobby was empty and the clerk standing behind the desk didn’t look up from his cell phone. There was a narrow hallway to her right. She walked a few steps into it and leaned against the wall. Her heart pounding and sick to her stomach, she fought back the hot tears. What was wrong with her? Why did she -
“Red?”
Her eyes flew open and she stared at the stranger from the bar. He stood in front of her and she had to crane her neck to look at him. He was well over six feet and – holy god – how was it possible he looked even better in the fluorescent light of the hallway?
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“I don’t want your pity,” she said. “I don’t – that isn’t what I want.”
“What do you want?” His big hand smoothed a strand of hair away from her cheek.
“I want to forget about her for one night,” she whispered. “I want to do something to get her out of my goddamn head for just one night. Can you help me with that?”
“Yes.” He stepped closer and slipped his arm around her waist. His hand cupped her hip and he bent until his mouth was hovering over hers.
She waited.
He didn’t move, and she realized that she needed to make the first step. He was willing to help her forget, but not until she showed him that it was what she really wanted. They stood in the hallway, his warm breath washing over her mouth.
Chloe, a night of sex with a stranger isn’t going to help you forget.
It might.
It won’t. Don’t be an idiot, Chloe. You know nothing about this guy. He could be a serial killer for all you know.
She pressed her mouth against his. He immediately took control of the kiss, teasing her lips apart with small licks and nips. He sucked on her bottom lip and then ran the tip of his tongue across her upper one. She moaned into his mouth and he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth to taste and tease.
When he released her, the voice in her head was quiet. She bit her bottom lip. “I want to have sex with you.”
“I want to have sex with you too,” he said. “I don’t live around here. Do you?”
“No. I’ll get us a room here.”
He frowned. “I’ll get the room.”
She pulled back and ran a hand over her swollen mouth. It was suddenly important that she pay for the room. She supposed it made her feel less like a whore. “I pay for the room or this doesn’t happen.”
He studied her and then nodded. “All right.”
She took his hand and he followed her out of the narrow hallway and toward the front desk.
* * *
The room was nothing special, just a double bed, an ancient-looking television on top of a dresser, a closet, and a door leading to the bathroom. Chloe hung the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door and closed it tight before locking it.
The room had cost her eighty-nine dollars. She’d paid for it with the emergency cash she kept in her wallet and made sure to keep her back toward the stranger when she gave the clerk her driver’s license. Not that it mattered, her soon-to-be one-night stand had stood a respectful distance from the front desk while she was getting the room. Surprisingly, she hadn’t even felt like a whore as she booked a room for the sole purpose of fucking a stranger.
She walked across the room and turned on the lamp next to the bed before drawing the curtains over the dirty and chipped window.
“My name is -”
“No.” She hugged her torso and stared at the emerald coloured drapes. “No names. No, this is what I do for a living, this is my favourite food, this is my damn life story. Agreed?”
“Sure.”
She took a deep breath and turned around. He was standing in front of the door, his big body blocking her only exit, and his face hidden in shadows. Unease trickled down her spine. Was she really going to do this?
Well, you kind of have to now, don’t you? You asked him for this. You invited him up to the room and if you think he’s going to let you leave without giving him sex, you’re a naïve idiot.
Her mouth was bone dry and there suddenly didn’t seem to be enough air. Her heartbeat tripled, her ears began to ring, and she was more than certain she was about to faint.
“Are you all right?” He was standing in front of her now. Jesus, he was quick. Quick and eerily quiet.
“I…fine, I…” her voice was wheezing out of her like she was an eighty-year-old smoker with emphysema.
She clutched at his forearm. She shouldn’t be touching him, shouldn’t be showing him how weak she was, but she had no choice. She was about to crumple in a heap.
One thick arm slipped around her waist. “Don’t faint on me, Red.”
He helped her to the bed and made her sit down before pushing her upper body down until her head was between her knees. “Take slow, deep breaths.”
She concentrated on her breathing, ignoring how his warm hand felt kind of nice rubbing her lower back, until the lightheaded feeling was gone. She sat up and turned her head back and forth experimentally.
“Better?”
“Yes. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
There was an awkward silence. He had stopped rubbing her back and was sitting next to her with his hands clasped loosely in his lap.
She twitched a little when he said, “If you’ve changed your mind, tell me. I’ll walk out of this room right now, no hard feelings. You don’t have to be afraid to tell me
you don’t want this anymore.”
She stared up at him, one hand smoothing the skirt of her suit compulsively. “How-how did you know I was thinking of changing my mind?”
He shrugged and gave her a slow smile that obliterated the unease. “Let’s just say that it comes in handy in my job to be good at reading body language.”
“Oh.” She chewed on her bottom lip and stared at his hands again. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. If you’ve changed your mind, I’ll leave. If you change your mind after we start, tell me and I’ll stop immediately and leave. You have my word.”
She didn’t know him from a hole in the ground, so why did she believe him? She searched his face, her gaze landing on those chocolate-coloured eyes. God, he had long lashes. Had she ever met a man with such long lashes?
Chloe, focus!
She took another deep breath. She believed him. Right or wrong, she believed him. If she wanted to stop, he’d stop. Simple.
“Okay, thanks.”
“Should I go?”
She shook her head. “No.”
He didn’t ask her if she was sure, and she was grateful for it. She might say ‘no’ if he did, and she wasn’t entirely certain that was what she wanted. What she wanted was for him to kiss her again, to make her forget that her life was a mess and she was about to fuck a stranger.
“I’ve never done this before, have you?” She asked.
“I’ve gone home with a woman the same night I’ve met her,” he said. “It’s not normally this quick, but -”
“I’m not a whore,” she said.
“I know. What I meant is that I usually have to work hard to charm them first, especially if I’m alone.” He gave her an easy grin that sent tingles of awareness up and down her spine.