by Skylar Kade
“What say you we take her to one of the private rooms, eh?” his crony piped in. “We can put her in her place.”
The first thug snarled in her face. “Not so disrespectful now, are you, slave?”
Hope couldn’t respond. She withdrew into herself, searching for that safe haven she’d carved out as a slave, the place she returned when she desperately needed to lock away her emotions. But it wasn’t there anymore. She’d done too much in therapy to ease her need for such an escape.
Panic had her frozen in his grasp, not that it mattered. Yelling, kicking, biting—all were impossible at that point.
“See, she just needed—”
The second man’s words were cut off, but Hope couldn’t see or think clearly enough to know what happened until her captor was ripped from her as well. She stood unmoving as two bouncers struggled to cuff the men. A third newcomer lingered in the shadows, his stance exuding pissed-off vibes the way only a strong Dominant could.
Hope wanted to stay out of his way.
“C’mon, assholes, you’ve got a date with Mistress Melina,” one bouncer said.
The Dom nodded at them and the bouncers perp-walked the assholes into the main room. She didn’t envy them their discussion with Mistress Melina, who could turn from total sweetheart to a vicious bitch in an instant. Kept people on their toes, she said.
Hope begged for the man to walk away and let her recover her equilibrium in peace. Instead, he eased closer. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, making every muscle shiver. Her eyes fluttered closed and she focused on slow, deep breathing, as she’d been taught. Arizona had truly changed her for the better, inside and out.
And those physical changes might just save her from this encounter. Her face looked more sculpted now from the weight she’d lost. The broken nose—the product of hazarding her mother’s convulsions to hold her down—only made it more foreign. And with her hair darkened and bobbed, glasses gone, even she sometimes looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize herself.
With that and the time between their last encounter, she knew few people from her past would easily recognize her either.
“Are you all right?” the man rumbled. A hand landed on her shoulder and she flinched against the contact before it was pulled back.
That little contact was enough for his scent to waft past her nose and Hope was jarred from reaching a state of calm. Her eyes shot open.
She knew those arms, covered in tattoos. Some old, some new.
“Miss?”
She knew that voice too, dammit. Her legs gave out. One shock too many.
The man scooped her up against his work-muscled chest. He carried her to the darkened room that had been vacated by the Master Assholes. No, no, no, her mind chanted, but there would be no escaping this fiasco.
She buried her face in his chest, inhaling the familiar, heart-rending smell of Gabriel Cassidy.
Mel’s insistence on meeting on Saturday made complete sense now, damned interfering woman.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, just wanting him to leave before she was ensnared once again by the Dom who’d showed her kindness then broken her heart.
“I’d just like some time to compose myself, if that’s all right. I’m here for a meeting with Mistress Melina,” she whispered, hoping he wouldn’t recognize her voice. A small, treacherous part of her, however, was a little hurt that he didn’t recognize her behind her updated appearance.
“And you thought you’d find a good meeting place in one of the playrooms?” He deposited her on a couch and stood over her, arms crossed.
She bristled but kept her face averted. “We were supposed to meet in her office, but she’s still in the Victorian room.” She sighed, wanting to get the hell out of the club but needing Mel’s business.
He snorted. “Play session probably ran long, knowing Melina.” She watched out of the corner of her eye as he walked to the door and looked each way down the hall before standing sentinel against the doorframe. “How about you wait here and I’ll check to see if she’s almost done.”
The last thing she wanted was a favor from Gabe. “You’ve been lovely, thank you for your help, but really, I’m fine, you don’t need to concern yourself—”
“Yes, I do,” he said from the door.
She imagined his forehead wrinkling in concern as she’d seen far too often during their fights. The fights she’d picked with him.
Guilt ate at her.
“Besides,” he said, “I have to stay to see Melina’s reaction to the situation with those two jerk offs. It’ll be priceless.”
The first set of lights flicked on, giving the room a soft glow. Though the couch didn’t face the door, the whole opposite wall was mirrored, giving her an open view of Gabe’s every move.
She scanned the room’s reflection, anything to take her mind off the broad shoulders so protectively blocking the door. This was the “office playroom”, complete with a large oak desk, filing cabinets and whiteboard. Oh, and hooks galore to hang rope, floggers, crops… Her heartbeat rose.
Gabe flipped on the rest of the lights and Hope forgot to breathe. Fully illuminated, he looked even more delicious than he had before, and she was only getting his reflection. A full-on view might give her a heart attack.
Gabe’s head poked out the door and into the hall once again, allowing her to peruse his reflection at her temporary leisure. He’d shaved his head, but the hair was making a stubbly comeback. Hope would have rued the loss of his soft black hair but—damn. He looked fierce, and the goatee he sported only added to the look. Hope had never been one to like the facial-hair, shaved-head combo, but Gabe wore it like a pro. He had on black slacks and a tight black T-shirt that hugged the muscles he’d earned from hours of leather working and welding. His black motorcycle boots showed wear from being well used, but had been recently shined.
Gabe radiated power and control. The clothes were just window dressing, but oh hell did they dress him nicely. He’d either gained more muscle since she’d last seen him or her memories were shoddy, because he looked more ripped than before. She wouldn’t put it past her subconscious to downplay how fit he’d been in order to protect her tender post-breakup heart.
One arm propped him up from the doorframe as he leaned out of the room, and that position made his muscled torso bulge. God, she wanted to trace with her tongue along every muscle-cut line she could see and all the ones she couldn’t. Arms and back and abs and thighs were corded with muscle, and he still had an ass made for fantasizing.
He’d always made her feel so petite and delicate. And protected, at least until the end.
His gaze flicked to the mirror, and she looked down at her shoes to avoid meeting his reflected eyes, sneaking glances the whole time.
“Why are you meeting with Mistress Melina?”
Nosy. Demanding. She answered anyway. “She hired me to redecorate the club, top to bottom.”
His back straightened and he cocked his head in curiosity, an inquisitive look he’d given her over and over during their short time together. “Interior designer?”
“Just started my own company.” She really didn’t want to be dropping clues about herself, but her control—as always in Gabe’s presence—was consumed by his desires. And he wanted answers.
“Congratulations. Tough stuff, starting your own company. I’m actually in the same boat. Leather goods, not décor.” He gave a little smile then turned to look at her in the mirror once more with a studious wrinkle in his brow.
He shook his head, then turned and left without another word.
She paced the room in his absence, trying to decide whether to leave or stay when a voice cleared behind her. She straightened and turned, shoulders tight.
Their eyes met and his face went hard. “What the holy hell are you doing here?”
It’s just pretend…but nobody wants to stop.
Maxie
© 2013 Kimberly Dean
Triple X, Boo
k 2
Maxie’s quiet, predictable routine is shattered when she steps outside her flower shop and almost runs into two women. It’s not the near collision that’s startling. It’s the strangers’ faces. It’s like looking in a mirror times two, and it sends her into a dead faint.
Sheriff Zac Ford sees three identical copies of the woman who’s caused him more sleepless nights than he can count, and it stops him in his tracks. Maxie’s buckling knees snap him out of his trance, and he catches her before she hits the cement.
Two sisters she never knew she had? Maxie can’t deal with this turmoil, not on her own. She needs a shield, a rock. For the first time in her life, she takes a wild leap of faith.
When Maxie calls him her boyfriend, Zac has no trouble playing along. It’ll give him time to figure out what these “sisters” want. Soon, though, for-show kisses get hotter and playacting touches grow bold. And Maxie must choose to stay in her safe little world, or grab life by the horns.
Warning: Don’t lie. It only leads to more lies, hotter kisses, bolder touches, less bed space, strange looks about town and a complete loss of shyness.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Maxie:
Maxie rubbed her temple. “If Roxie and Lexie are right about everything, we probably don’t need to pretend. To be seeing each other, I mean.”
“Let’s keep up the charade.”
“Why?”
His handsome face darkened. “Even if they are related to you, that doesn’t mean they’re good people. Give me some time to check everything out first.”
Maxie blinked in surprise. “They seemed like good people, though, didn’t they?”
“They did.”
She slumped in her seat. Right now, she couldn’t trust herself to judge up from down or right from wrong. Or sheriff from boyfriend. She fiddled with her skirt. There wasn’t anyplace to settle her hands. “Thank you for being here for me today.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “So back to the topic at hand. Right side or left?”
“Of what?”
“Of the bed, of course. Which side do you sleep on?”
The question was so outrageous, she laughed. “You are insane.”
“Hardly. Four months of dating? I’m the kind of guy who stays over, sweetheart.”
She was sure he was.
Suddenly, it wasn’t so funny, and she had to remind herself to breathe. Her thoughts were back on her bedroom, right upstairs. “They’ll never see that.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “Maybe not, but they’ll probably see this.”
Without giving her a chance to figure out what this might be, he kissed her.
Maxie was stunned when his mouth settled directly onto hers. She inhaled sharply, but he followed, leaning in as she pressed against the chair. For a moment, she was frozen with surprise, but with lengthening nips, he coaxed her into relaxing. When she moved towards him, he opened his mouth wider, eating at hers and tasting deeply with his tongue.
A long shudder went through her. He tasted like coffee and sex. She circled her arms around his neck.
“I don’t like seeing you upset,” he said against her lips.
He kissed her again, and her eyes fluttered closed.
This should be the last thing she needed, but it was exactly what she craved—someone strong, someone steady, someone delectable. Oh God, what they were doing felt so good. He wasn’t hesitant, but he didn’t overpower her, either. He tested new angles and tried different pressures, learning what she liked.
With him, she liked it all. It felt good to slip into fantasy, to drift away from the confusion and dismay.
She slid her hands over his shoulders and reveled in the bunch and play of his muscles. “Zac.”
She gasped when the arm behind her tightened. There was a quick tug, and before she knew it, he’d pulled her out of her chair.
“I was on my way to do this earlier, before we were interrupted,” he said, his voice gruff.
She was on his lap again, only this time she was wide awake.
The kiss intensified, growing hotter and steamier. Their tongues slid against one another’s, sending shimmers of excitement through her system. He spread his hand wide on her back, under her hair. She could feel every one of his fingertips stroking, skin on skin.
Heat poured through her, and her mind spun. Better than fantasy. She didn’t know what came over her, but leaning closer, she nipped at his lower lip. He went still, tension building around them, and she eased the sting with a lick of her tongue.
He groaned. “You’re not that shy, are you, Beauty?”
She hadn’t been until he’d mentioned it. Awareness gripped her, and she realized how close he was and how tightly she’d pressed against him. This wasn’t for pretend; it was real. As much as she wanted to keep rubbing against him like a cat starved for affection, that invisible hand was pulling her back, away from what she wanted to do.
Breathing hard, she stared at him with wide eyes. His were heavy-lidded and sensual. She was so close she could see dots of darker blue mixed in with the lighter blue of his irises. His cheekbones were flushed, and his mouth was damp.
She licked her lips, and the blue flecks in his eyes darkened. Her pulse jumped and her muscles flared, half of them pushing her up off him and the others straining towards him. She wanted…but she shouldn’t…but she needed…
He was leaning towards her when the mobile radio on his shoulder squawked. “Unit 64?”
She sprang off his lap as if it were spring-loaded, and a low curse passed his lips.
“Maxie.”
She couldn’t respond. All of a sudden, it was this morning all over again when she couldn’t even come up with the word hi.
“64?” the radio called again.
Zac clicked on the mike. “64,” he practically barked.
“We have a report of an accident on the Indigo Byway, close to your location. Are you available to respond?”
“Hell no.”
Maxie took another good three steps back and smoothed her dress. Her skin prickled everywhere, hot where he’d touched and chilled where she should be wearing more clothes.
Rubbing a hand over his face, the sheriff pressed the transmit button. “Affirmative, dispatch. Any injuries?”
“Negative, but traffic is backing up.”
“Understood. I’ll be there in five. 64 over.”
Maxie folded her arms over her stomach. Talk about not knowing where to settle her hands. What had they just done? Had that been for practice? For dinner tonight? God, she hoped not. Even if Lexie and Roxie were her sisters, she didn’t want them watching as she made a meal of the man. The hot prickles on her body started to outnumber the chills, and she struggled not to fan herself. For a timid sort, it hadn’t taken much encouragement for her to throw herself at him.
“I’ll fire them all,” Zac muttered.
Standing, he adjusted his gun belt. Maxie stepped back and bumped up against the refrigerator.
She needed to say something. Anything.
“Do you think they’ll…?” She cleared her throat. “Do you think they’ll buy it? The sisters, I mean.”
His blue eyes narrowed. “I did.”
He watched her for a long, intense moment before raking his hand through his disheveled hair. “I’ll pick you up later, okay?”
She nodded, her brain once again tripping over itself. Pretend or not, she’d made out with Zac Ford. And she might have sisters, with an s.
How had her one-word plan evolved into this?
“And for future reference…” he opened the door, but stopped with one foot over the threshold, “…I sleep on the right.”
A Love Worth Living
Skylar Kade
When the nightmares yawn beneath her feet, the scariest part is letting go.
Dr. Carrie Farrow has dedicated her life to finding justice for the dead, but not without a steep cost. Years spent seeing the worst of humanity have
left her determined to keep the living at a distance. It’s the only way she knows to keep her heart safe.
A dig in Rwanda changes everything. When she returns, her sexy neighbor’s concern and care slip past her iron defenses—and she finds comfort in a night of passion. But not the whole night. Before the sheets have cooled, she’s out of there.
David Cameron has walked a fine line, being there for her without pushing the bounds of their friendship. When she falls into his arms, he believes the years of loving her from afar are over—until she makes it clear one night is all he gets.
Knowing one night will never be enough, David sets out to show her life is worth living, and love is worth claiming…if she’s brave enough to choose him.
And he’s brave enough to open his heart wide enough to catch hers.
Warning: Contains a strong, independent woman who discovers a love worth risking her heart for; a sexy psychologist with secrets of his own; and sex so good it can heal the soul.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
A Love Worth Living
Copyright © 2013 by Skylar Kade
ISBN: 978-1-61921-612-9
Edited by Lisa Dunick
Cover by Valerie Tibbs
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