by K. A. Linde
K.A. LINDE is the USA Today bestselling author of the Avoiding series and the All That Glitters series as well as seven additional novels.
She grew up as a military brat traveling the United States and even landing for a brief stint in Australia.
She has a master’s degree in political science from the University of Georgia and is the current head coach of the Duke University dance team.
An avid traveler, reader, and bargain hunter, K.A. currently lives in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, with her husband and two super adorable puppies.
K.A. Linde loves to hear from her readers!
You can contact her at [email protected] or visit her online at one of the following sites:
www.kalinde.com
www.facebook.com/authorkalinde
@authorkalinde
OTHER TITLES BY K.A. LINDE
AVOIDING SERIES
Avoiding Commitment (#1)
Avoiding Responsibility (#2)
Avoiding Intimacy (#2.5)
Avoiding Decisions (#1.5)
Avoiding Temptation (#3)
RECORD SERIES
Off the Record
On the Record
For the Record
TAKE ME DUET
Take Me for Granted
Take Me with You
ALL THAT GLITTERS SERIES
Diamonds
Gold
Emeralds
ASCENSION SERIES
The Affiliate
STAND-ALONE
Following Me
TURN THE PAGE TO REVEAL THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THE CONCLUSION TO TRIHN’S STORY IN:
PLATINUM
RELEASING SPRING 2016!
READ THE OTHER BOOKS IN THE ALL THAT GLITTERS SERIES HERE:
BRYNA’S STORY
Diamonds (#1)
Gold (#2)
TRIHN’S STORY
Platinum (#3)
STACIA’S STORY
Silver (#4)
THIS WAS A VERY BAD IDEA.
Trihn’s sighed heavily as she stared at the name on the screen of her phone and avoided the knowing looks from her best friends, Bryna and Stacia.
“Just don’t invite him,” Bryna said irritably.
“I’m not inviting him,” Trihn snapped back.
Trihnity Hamilton had been dating her boyfriend, Neal, for over a year and a half. They had met and fell for each other over their mutual love for artistic endeavors. He was a graphic design major while she studied fashion design with a focus in art. Unfortunately, that lifestyle didn’t exactly fit with Trihn’s love for partying.
Or so Neal said.
Frankly, Bryna flat out hated him, and at this point Stacia barely tolerated him. The disconnect between the two most important things in her life, her friends and her boyfriend, was causing some…unnecessary strain.
“I’m just going to answer this and then we can go,” Trihn said. She turned away from her friends before anyone could say anything to change her mind. And she knew Bryna would try.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Trihn heard Bryna say to Stacia behind her back.
“Leave it be, Bri,” Stacia said.
Trihn took a breath and answered the phone with forced enthusiasm. “Hey!”
“Hey, what are you up to tonight?” Neal asked.
Trihn twirled her long brown-to-blonde ombre around her finger and tried to calm herself down. She was not going to argue with Neal tonight. Not about going to the club for a girl’s night. He’d understand.
He would.
She would just keep telling herself that.
Her stomach knotted anyway. Twisting and turning against her will as fear crept up her spine. No matter how much she tried to tamp it down, it just slithered its way back up.
She took a deep breath. “I was just about to head out with Bri and Stacia. We’re going to this club that’s having some kind of crazy dance party…”
“Let me guess,” he said dryly. “Bryna’s suggestion?”
“Maya actually!” she said, trying to keep pep in her voice. “She’s meeting us there later after she gets off work.”
Maya was their favorite bartender at the local bar they frequented, Posse. It was located just off the Las Vegas State campus where Trihn was starting the second semester of her sophomore year.
“I see. Well, never mind then.”
“I would totally invite you,” Trihn insisted. Bryna coughed noisily behind her. Trihn swiveled around and glared at her and Stacia. “But…it’s a girl’s night. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were getting back early. I should have checked with your schedule.”
Stacia snorted and shook her head. Bryna looked like she was ready to rip the phone out of her hand and tell Neal exactly what he could do with his schedule.
“It’s fine, Trihn. I was just going to see if I could come over since I just got back from San Francisco.”
“I know,” she whispered.
Over winter break, Neal had had an internship for graphic design in San Francisco, where his parents lived. It was a continuation of his work from last summer. She had only seen him for a couple days when her parents had flown him out to New York City for New Year’s.
He had gotten back to Las Vegas two days early. She had thought he wouldn’t be in town until the Sunday before school started, but his parents had decided otherwise. She felt bad that she already had plans and would have run over there in a heartbeat, but Maya never got out of work to hang out with them. She couldn’t pass up the opportunity. She figured she would just see Neal tomorrow and all would be fine.
“So,” she said softly.
The silence stretched between them as she waited for him to say something. She bit her lip and fought against the growing awkwardness in their relationship. When he had visited her only a couple weeks ago, things had been strange. He’d been more interested in getting to know her sister, Lydia, than spending time with Trihn. She and Lydia still had a strained relationship after what had happened post high school graduation, and it didn’t help that Trihn had another boyfriend who seemed enamored by Lydia.
“I’ll just talk to you later or something,” Neal said after a few silent minutes. “I’ll probably go to The Kiln since you don’t want to see me.”
Trihn cringed. She actually hated The Kiln. It was an artistic dream in theory. A bar with live music and slam poetry under the same roof as a pottery studio. But in reality everyone sat around and bemoaned the state of the art movement or lack there of in America, got high as fuck, and then made art with their bodies…with whoever was around. It wasn’t uncommon for the place to turn into an orgy.
“It’s not that I don’t want to see you,” she insisted. “I do really want to see you, but we’ve had this planned for awhile…”
“Okay.”
“But…do you have to go to The Kiln?” she managed to get out. He knew she hated that place. It was a breeding ground for bad behavior. All the while, he claimed that the clubs she went to were bad.
“You’re going out to some club to get wasted with your friends and basically have sex on the dance floor, and you’re asking me to not go out?” he asked in a tone that brokered no argument.
“I’m not going to have sex on the dance floor,” she argued anyway. “But I know that people do at Kiln. It’s just…gross.”
“Trihn, don’t lecture me about what I can and can’t do.”
“I wasn’t,” she whimpered. “I just…”
“Look, I’m going to go. If you decide to stop fucking around and want to take us seriously, then come to Kiln and we can talk.”
“I…”
The line went dead in her hand, and she nearly screamed. How dare he insinuate that she was going out to fuck around, and she didn’t take their relationship seriously!
She was the one putting all the effort into their relationship. Half the time he was pissed off about what she was doing and who she was hanging out with. It was blatantly clear he didn’t trust her. She didn’t
get it, because she had never done anything to make him think otherwise. She was as loyal as they came.
After the fiasco with Preston, she couldn’t even imagine fooling around behind someone’s back. It pissed her off all over again.
She tried to rein in her emotions. The last thing she wanted was to be in a bad mood when she went out with the girls. Things with Neal would work out. They always did. He would get mad and lash out, but when they got back together, everything would be fine. He was just frustrated.
“All right,” she said, dropping the phone to her side. “Are you guys ready to party?”
Bryna and Stacia exchanged equally sympathetic looks. They knew things between she and Neal were rocky even if they had only heard half of the conversation.
“Is everything okay?” Stacia asked hesitantly.
“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Trihn said stiffly. “Let’s just go have a good time.”
She hoped that was still possible.
Excerpt
SINFUL LONGING
Lauren Blakely
“Do you like the music?” he whispered, his lips so close to her skin. Goose bumps rose on her flesh as she blinked open her eyes.
He raised a hand to adjust his tie—he was always doing that, as if ties weren’t his thing—and her gaze settled on his fingers.
Magic fingers, she called them. She knew what they could do to her.
“Yes, I like the music,” she said, trying to center herself.
“I do, too,” he said softly, then stroked his chin. “It’s beautiful. And it reminds me of something.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What does it remind you of? Some other piece of music?” She hadn’t known him to be a classical fan. He was rock, alternative, and indie music all the way.
He shook his head. “Not music. But something else I enjoy. Trying to remember exactly what.”
“Tell me,” she whispered, her curiosity now piqued. Her eyes met his. She searched those dark brown irises, as if she could find the answer there.
The sounds from the stage grew louder. “Wait. I think I know.”
She widened her eyes, and held out her hands as if to say tell me now.
“Turn back to the stage. It helps me think.”
She shot him a look, because that made no sense. Shrugging, she returned her focus to the musicians and the victorious sound of the final movement of Beethoven’s Ninth.
“Ah, that’s it,” Colin whispered. “Now I remember. It reminds me of that thing you like so much.”
That thing.
His fingers gently traveled up her neck. A small gasp escaped her lips. “Your neck. The way you move when I kiss you right here,” he said, stopping to trace the outline of one of her birds with the pad of his thumb. She nearly moaned out loud. Elle was convinced every woman had a spot on her body that melted her from head to toe when touched the right way by the right man.
For Elle, it was her neck.
“How you sound when I touch your shoulder,” he continued, letting his fingers graze her collarbone. Her bones turned liquid. Any ounce of resolve still left in her evaporated. She could say it was the thrill of the night, that it was the joy of hitting a massively vital professional goal, or perhaps it was the fact that no one had made her feel this way in years.
But none of that was true.
It was him. He just did something to her.
A shiver rolled down her spine. “No, it doesn’t sound like that at all,” she said, trying faintly to deny the way she responded to him.
He nodded vigorously. “Yes, it does. Just listen to that crescendo. It sounds like you when I— ”
She grabbed his thigh and dug in her nails. The contact silenced him, but reminded her of how much she liked contact with him.
Great job, Elle.
Being so close to him was an injection of lust in her bloodstream, and Elle knew what happened when she was ruled by lust. She knew it well, and she had the lifetime of upended choices to show for it.
Not that she regretted anything in retrospect.
Not one bit.
But she was older and wiser now. Wasn’t she?
She must be, because that wisdom was jostling its way to the front of her brain, trying to strike a deal with her body. They’d tangoed, they’d played—they’d done plenty. But she’d only fully had this man a few times. Maybe one more time and she could finally eradicate him from all her thoughts, from the dirty dreams that lasted all night and lingered too long during the day. She could say good-bye to these rampant hormones, and concentrate on her job, her family, and her promises.
There was no reason not to enjoy the final minutes of this evening to the fullest. One last night of passion, then she could move on from this turbulence of longing that engulfed her every time Colin Sloan was near. Let go of the longing, let go of him.
She couldn’t have him in her life, but she could have one more night.
The concert ended, and the crowd applauded; their clapping and cheering rang through the ballroom.
Seize the night. She turned to face him. Arched an eyebrow. Took on his challenge.
Forget poker. She had other plans now. “So what’s the new tattoo, Colin? You ready to show me?”
To read more find out how here:
http://laurenblakely.com/sinful-nights/