by Kym Grosso
CARNAL
RISK
A Club Altura Romance Novel
Kym Grosso
Copyright © 2015 by Kym Grosso
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
MT Carvin Publishing
West Chester, Pennsylvania
Edited by Julie Roberts
Formatting by Polgarus Studio
Cover Design by LM Creations
Cover Model: Stuart Reardon
Photographer: Peda Rochelle
DISCLAIMER
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, locations and events portrayed in this book are a work of fiction or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events, locales, or real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
NOTICE
This is an adult erotic contemporary romance book with love scenes and mature situations. It is only intended for adult readers over the age of 18.
Acknowledgments
My books aren’t released without the assistance of many wonderful people, and I’m very grateful to everyone who helped me:
~My husband, Keith, for encouraging me to write and supporting me in everything I do.
~Julie Roberts, editor, who spent hours reading, editing and proofreading Carnal Risk. You’ve done so much to help and encourage me over the past two years. As with every book, I could not have done this without you!
~My alpha readers, Maria and Rochelle, who give me such important feedback and insight during the editing process. You both are awesome!
~My dedicated beta readers, Brandy, Elena, Gayle, Denise, Janet, Jessica, Jerri, Julie, Kelly, Leah, Laurie, Stephanie and Rose for beta reading. I really appreciate all the valuable feedback you provide.
~LM Creations, cover artist, for designing Carnal Risk’s sexy cover.
~Stuart Reardon, cover model, for the amazing images on Carnal Risk’s cover.
~Love N. Books, for image acquisition.
~Peda Rochelle, for image photography.
~Polgarus Studio, Jason, for formatting Carnal Risk. You do terrific work, presenting my books so they look their best digitally and in print.
~Nicole, Indie Sage PR, for helping me with promotion and supporting my books.
~Denise and Jennifer, for subject matter expertise.
~Gayle, my admin, who is one of my biggest supporters and helps to run my street team. I’m so thankful for all of your help!
~My awesome street team, for helping spread the word about the Immortals of New Orleans series and my new romance series, Club Altura. I appreciate your support more than you could know! You guys are the best. You rock!
Chapter One
Plummeting eighteen thousand feet brought the same rush it always did. Death was ever close, yet Garrett had never felt more alive. The deafening roar of the air cut into his mind. Not a cell of his body was left untouched by the adrenaline that pumped through his veins. Every single jump brought forth the clarity of not only his mortality, but his vitality.
As he passed through the clouds, Garrett spread his arms wide and pointed to his friend, Evan, who gave him a thumbs up. He glanced to his altimeter. Twenty more seconds. He let out a celebratory scream, exhilaration slamming through his limbs. Ten seconds. Spiraling recklessly through the air, the best part of the dive was coming to an end. Five seconds. Garrett smiled up at Evan, still holding out for one last moment. One second. He reached for the pull and with a pop, Garrett’s chute exploded. The harness jerked him as the canvas ballooned open into the sky. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, descending like a feather from the sky. As he opened them, the breathtaking horizon of the beach came into view.
As he drifted through the wind, his heart seized as he glanced down to the field. A turbulent form whizzed past him through the air, and Garrett swore, his heart pounding as he watched his best friend plummet to his death. The chances of survival were infinitesimal. Hundreds of successful jumps and he’d never witnessed a fatal dive. He gasped for breath, aware that barring a miracle, Evan had already died.
Garrett’s mind stormed with anger and grief. Like he’d been impaled by a knife, the reality of the accident speared through his chest. He was helpless, his descent stretching for what seemed like hours, and when his friend’s body came into view, he fought the nausea. Tears came to his eyes as a gut-wrenching sob tore through his throat. Evan, my friend. He’s gone. He couldn’t comprehend how this could have happened, yet as grim faces below came into focus, he knew it could not be undone.
For years they had cheated death, victorious in achieving the ultimate high. Today, however, Garrett’s world would come crashing down around him. As his feet touched the earth, he ran to embrace Evan. Tragedy rained down upon them and he cried up into the sky, devastated that his friend was forever gone.
Chapter Two
Garrett stared into the bottom of his scotch, its burn still fresh on his lips. Darkness crept into his soul, the grief consuming him. Fear wasn’t a word in his vocabulary, yet he couldn’t scrub the sight of his friend’s lifeless body from his mind. Unlucky. That’s what first responders had called it. Words like ‘accident’ and ‘casualty’ were tossed about, but he refused to accept their initial findings. Garrett had pressed the prosecutor’s office for a special investigation, suspecting foul play.
As far as he was concerned, there was no such thing as luck. Strategy? Yes. Hard work? Most definitely. Accidents happened to other people, not Evan. Every single jump, he’d been meticulous when checking his rig. Some might even go so far as to call him obsessive compulsive, but Garrett knew it was what made him the very best. There was no fucking way he’d concede that his friend, the one who’d first taught him how to skydive, had simply succumbed to human error.
Garrett slammed his glass on the copper bar and slid it toward the bartender, nodding at her. The perky blonde barkeep promptly brought the Macallan, poured two fingers and set the bottle in front of him. She gave him a sympathetic smile. As she turned around and bent over to give him an unobstructed view of her assets, he swore. Not even that perfect heart-shaped ass was enough to stir his dick. Garrett shook his head in disgust, aware he needed to get his shit together. As he ran his forefinger along the edge of his drink, a familiar voice caught his attention.
“Hey.”
“You’re late,” Garrett responded, giving his friend a glare.
“Yeah fuck you too, G.” Lars smiled at the bartender.
“Hi, baby. What can I get ya?” she asked.
Lars glanced to the whiskey that sat in front of Garrett. “A glass. We’re taking the bottle.”
“You sure about that now?” She raised a judgmental eyebrow at him.
“Yep, it’s that kind of night.” He shrugged. “Looks like you’ve started before me. You driving?”
“Nope. I’ve got a driver tonight.” Garrett glanced to Lars, whose not so subtle eye roll told him he’d gone too far. “Is there a problem? No, don’t answer.”
The last thing he needed was a fucking lecture. Sensing one was coming, Garrett shoved out of his seat and snatched the decanter, gesturing to a secluded table in the corner. He sighed, settling into a well-worn leather chair and caught Lars’ shadow flying by him, right before he took another swig of the amber liquid.
“Nice club,” Garrett commented.
“Best jazz in the city. Got a special surprise I think you’ll like.”
“Oh yeah?” Garrett swirled t
he glass, never taking his eyes off the golden vortex.
“I thought you could use a distraction.” Lars smirked, pouring himself a drink.
“That right, huh?”
“Listen, G, I know it’s been a few weeks since…”
“Evan…”
“You and I both know this was no accident, but we’ve both got contracts to fulfill. Business goes on. It sucks, but if you don’t start looking for his replacement, we can’t…”
“What do you think I’ve been doing? I’m in the office. Day in. Day out. Even though Evan’s not here, the world keeps spinning.” Garrett gave Lars a sideways glance. “But I’m sure as hell not going to let it go. Something happened up there.”
Over the years, Garrett had taken Emerson Industries from a garage start-up into a billion dollar corporation. Not only did Emerson’s civilian suppliers count on timely shipments, government contracts needed to be fulfilled. Ongoing research and development took place on campus, ensuring the most advanced equipment in the world, and Evan had been a critical player in its success. Finding a suitable replacement for him was imperative, but it wouldn't be an easy task. Since the accident, Garrett had been operating in a daze, attending to small matters, but had neglected the critical infrastructure projects that needed intensive attention from a chief technology officer.
“Maybe, but you have to let the authorities handle it,” Lars commented, his eyes falling onto the singer who’d stepped up on stage and picked up the microphone.
“I can’t let it go. I’ve got to find out what happened. You know as well as I do that Evan used to be in the military – Airborne Division. He taught us all our shit. There’s just no way he made a mistake. It’s almost as if it’s…” Garrett’s words trailed off as he followed Lars’ train of vision, the gorgeous creature capturing his attention.
The bar went silent as her golden voice resonated throughout the room. The jazz band transitioned into a sultry version of You Put a Spell on Me, and the seductive beauty stepped down from her perch, passing by a couple who sipped martinis. Garrett noted how she effortlessly weaved her way through the crowd of patrons, not allowing anyone to touch her. With a tantalizing flair, she turned her head toward Garrett and flipped her long blonde hair. The playful glint in her eyes told him she’d come for him next, a glimpse of desire hidden behind the violet contacts she wore. She stopped mid-song and slowly peeled away her gloves, tossing them into the crowd.
Lars laughed, and it was at that moment that Garrett realized he’d brought him here not just to distract him, but for a purpose. Momentary anger was promptly quelled as the blonde stepped out of a shadow. Her pale blue corset hugged her curves. Again she caught his gaze, slowly lowering the side zipper on her black pencil skirt. A drum solo began and the garment dropped to the floor, revealing ruffled panties. A cream-colored garter belt secured black thigh-high stockings. His cock jerked as she trailed her fingertips over her thighs, blowing a kiss to the quiet sophisticated crowd that continued to order drinks from passing waitresses.
Garrett wanted to be pissed at Lars, but he knew that his friend cared about him, how profoundly he’d been affected by Evan’s death. It’d been months since he’d indulged in the fairer sex. Despite the temptation, he had no intention of initiating contact with the sultry performer.
The fragrance of her perfume drew him out of his contemplation, and through his peripheral vision, he spied his stealth singer. Tendrils of her hair brushed the back of his neck as she descended. Having given up on his resolve to show no interest, he glanced at Lars, whose eyes flashed to the entertainment. Delicate hands clutched his shoulders and Garrett slid his chair from the table to get a better view of her. His temptress ran her fingertips down his cotton shirt, causing his nipples to pebble in response. Shit, I’m not here to fuck anyone, he thought to himself as the blood rushed to his cock.
His eyes locked on hers as she straddled him, trailing her hands over his pecs. When her palms slid over his bare forearms, he fought the searing arousal that threatened his control. Garrett sucked a breath as she sat firmly on his lap, and her eyes snapped to his as they both registered his erection pressing through his jeans onto the thin fabric of her panties. It was in that moment that she gave him a small knowing smile. Rather than standing, she slowly tilted her hips, dragging her groin down the length of him. From a distance, no one would have seen. He resisted the urge to grab onto her waist. The fantasy of flipping her onto the table, tearing off the wet strip of nothing she called underwear and fucking her in front of the entire audience flittered through his mind, and he wondered if she’d like a little public action. The mere idea of it turned his dick into concrete, and he attempted to shift in his seat to relieve the growing ache.
If control was an Olympic sport, Garrett would hold a gold medal. Whether plunging out of a plane from eighteen thousand feet or plunging into a woman, his blood pressure never rose a single point. But despite his cool demeanor, Garrett failed to will his erection into submission. He took a slow breath, irked that a burlesque singer had cracked a sliver in his composure. He caught a glimpse of Lars, whose smile had faded. Fuck me, he knows. Why the hell does it matter to him? Is he dating her? Yes, that’s it. He knows her. Serves him the hell right for bringing me to this place.
The lovely creature rose gracefully off him. Presenting her posterior like a meal on a plate, she arched her back and gestured to the black ribbons laced up the back of her corset. When he didn’t respond, she abruptly sat on his thighs, jolting him back into his aroused state. She glanced back to him and grinned, tugging one of the strings. Her soft fingers met his, bringing them to the laces.
“I think that’s good enough,” Lars commented.
“What?” After this was over Garrett was going to kill Lars for fucking with him like this. He shook his head, confused as to what the hell was happening.
“A little help,” she whispered, ignoring Lars.
Garrett noted that she’d turned her face away so he couldn’t read her expression. He broke his resolve and began to pull open the tight threading, loosening the corset. He despised his body’s lack of response to his demand to cease the arousal. His cock was harder than piling and the only relief he’d be getting tonight was from the palm of his hand.
The soft silky fabric brushed his hand as she pushed off him and made her way back to the stage. Holding her arms across her breasts, she stopped to wriggle her bottom, allowing the fabric to fall to her feet. As she turned for the big reveal, a velvet bra covered what the audience had expected to be bare. She wrapped both palms around the microphone, setting it back into the stand, and resumed her song. Like an angel, her alluring voice filled the room, and not a soul appeared disappointed that she hadn’t bared more skin.
Garrett struggled to conceal his interest, aware that he should leave, but he sat captivated until the last note. A small chuckle drew his attention to Lars, who wore a broad grin.
“What’s so funny?”
“You like her?”
“And? So what? She’s beautiful. Moves well. Smells nice. Assertive…wasn’t going to take no for an answer with that corset. What’s not to like?”
“I’m glad you like her, I really am, but you might not want to sport that hard-on around her in the office,” Lars said, nervously flexing his fingers.
“What the fuck is this about?”
“I’m about to help you is all.”
“I saw the way she looked at you. What’s going on between you and her?” Garrett asked, his voice tense. “And why exactly would I be seeing her in my office?”
“Just hear me out, bro.”
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything. Just chill a second.”
“Yet?”
“I know you, G. You’re stuck on this thing with Evan,” Lars noted.
“Thing? He’s fucking dead,” Garrett stated coldly.
“I hear you haven’t even tried to replace him.”
“What the hell did
Chase say to you? You know what? I don’t care what he said. The last time I checked, I ran Emerson. I don’t need a babysitter.” Garrett picked up his whiskey and glared at Lars. Of course he hadn’t replaced Evan. No one could ever replace him. “You need to mind your own business. Seriously. Besides, whoever takes that position has to be one of us…someone I can trust implicitly. That’s not gonna happen overnight.”
“Exactly. And this is where she comes in.”
“You’re joking, right? The stripper?”
“Singer.”
“Singer,” he conceded. Garrett took a swig of his drink and set it forcefully down on the table.
“MBA. Wharton.”
“Her?” His eyes darted to the stage. He watched with curiosity as she quickly wrapped herself up in a robe, concealing her costume. “So she’s smart. So what? It’s not enough. This isn’t just some tech job. Evan had his hands in all sorts of shit. He was working on several major projects. There are so many requirements for whoever comes into his position it isn’t even fucking funny. I’m not going to rush this.”
“She’s got clearances.”
“Not enough.” He glanced up and caught her staring at Lars. The flare in her eyes told Garrett that she wasn’t happy with him.
“Listen. I’ve known her for ten years. She’s the real deal. She’s brilliant. Has rocked all my top accounts.”
“What did she do for the government?” Garrett immediately wished he hadn’t asked. There was no way this would work.
“Hacker. White Hat. She’s in tune with problems our clients don’t even know exist.”
“Okay, great, well, we’re very specialized. You know this. Does she jump?” He held up his hands to Lars as his friend glanced away. “No? Okay, great. What does she do? Does she do anything?”
“She’s not so adventurous, but she can help you get the outsourcing project back on track, recruit for a permanent replacement,” Lars responded, ignoring Garrett’s question.