by Vanna King
RECKLESS
Vanna King
Contents
Introduction
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
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Vanna King
RECKLESS
Copyright © 2017 by Vanna King
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Introduction
About This Novel
RECKLESS
A Whirlwind Romance
SHE MAKES A STUPID MISTAKE. A VERY HOT stupid mistake. Or maybe not….
Leigh is getting married in ten days to a much older man who has contributed millions to her father’s campaign funds. Yes, in this modern day and age, she’s a good ol’ pawn in her parents’ political ambitions, and her fate is inevitable.
But she wants to do something before she resigns herself as a Stepford wife for the next five years of so. She makes one last wish to her parents before she exchanges ‘I do’ with the man of their choice. She asks three days to go somewhere, spend some time away from her family on her own. Her parents agree on one condition: she must not do anything to compromise the family’s reputation.
She flies to Vegas, checks into a hotel and casino, and vows to enjoy three days of her life with the freedom she craves.
There she meets a man. He calls himself Bron, gorgeous as sin, mysterious as the devil, and he wants her. Every cell in her body comes alive, screaming the same. She wants him, too. He’s the most sinful mistake she won’t dare commit ten days before her wedding. But she’s in Vegas, and there’s this saying… “What happens in Vegas…”
She’s always been a good girl, but for once, she wants to walk on the wild side. Take a risk. Experience everything with a man she truly desires before she commits herself to a loveless marriage.
One night.
One man.
A lifetime of memories.
Prologue
LEIGH
I knew this day would come.
But I didn’t know it would be this soon.
I was hoping it would happen when I’m like thirtyish, experienced and mature enough to handle such a Machiavellian arrangement.
But I’m only twenty-one. I don’t even have a boyfriend yet. I haven’t even fallen in love or got my heart broken. Not even once. How can I accept this fate without feeling like I’m entering a prison cell?
I’m a pawn. A bargaining chip in my father’s political ambition.
My situation is straight out of the pages of those medieval romance books I used to read voraciously in my senior year in high school. What the hell made me think it was exciting and romantic for a lady to be married off to some duke or prince through a political or financial arrangement decided by the men in her family? I can’t believe I used to feel giddy thinking about the heroine resisting the super-alpha hero at first, but he’d wear her down with his adorably domineering ways and irresistible sensuality, and she’d fall in love with him even against her will. Then they’d live happily ever after, like a fairy tale.
Stupid fairy tales.
In real life and this century, an arranged marriage is no fairy tale. It’s a nightmare. A terrifying place to be in. At least, as far as I’m concerned. I’m a hopeless romantic. I want to marry the man I love. When I’m good and ready.
I’m not ready. Far from it.
“You’re asking me to marry a man I don’t love, Mom,” I cry, unable to contain my dismay. I’ve never raised my voice against my parents. They are the most important people in my life, and I’ve always respected them by bowing to their every wish. But for the first time, I find the courage to express my feelings strongly.
“Leigh, we need your support now more than ever. Help your father.”
But she’s not asking. She’s commanding me to marry their good friend, Bill Peyton. He is fifty, just a few years younger than Dad. I look at him like my second father. I care for him a great deal, yes, but not in the way a wife would care for her husband.
“But I don’t want to marry yet, Mom,” I try to contain my mounting hysteria. “I just graduated from college. I worked so hard to finish at the top of my class. I wanna do more, travel the world, have my masters, start a career of my own—“
“You can do all that as Bill’s wife,” she interrupts me as if I’m a whiny little girl saying no to a special treat. “He can even help you. You can take your masters, even your PhD right after the wedding, at whatever university you wish. He has a jet and regularly travels all over the world. Of course, he will more than likely take you with him every time. Bill’s going to give you all that you need, Leigh.”
“But—“
Mom grips my hands tightly in hers, her eyes intense. She will not be dissuaded, I can see. “You’re all we have. You’re our only child, the only one who can make your father’s dreams come true. You want him to be happy, don’t you?”
I want to say, “You’re being unfair, Mom,” but I don’t. When she puts it that way, she hits my weakest spot.
I do want my parents to be happy more than anything in this world. I want to repay the love and kindness they’ve showered over me all these years because aside from this matter, I’ve been their princess since I was a little girl. I’ve lived a life of privilege, a far cry from what I would have been had they not adopted me from that foster home when I was barely months old. They didn’t hide it from me. They told me the truth when I was old enough to understand, and I’ve always been grateful. I’ve never taken my good fortune for granted.
“Bill wants you so much he’s willing to put it all in a contract.”
I blink at my mother. “A contract?”
“Yes, to ensure you will be taken care of whatever happens in the future, your father and Bill have agreed that your marriage be put in a special contract. Bill is asking for a minimum of five years with you as his wife. Then you can decide to renew your vows and stay married for another five years, or for the rest of your lives if you both wish to. You’ll receive a generous settlement at the end of the contract, and you’ll never want for anything within the marriage, or after.”
My mother is beaming as if it’s the best arrangement in the world. But I’m just holding on to my lunch. I feel disgusted by it all I want to retch. Now I understand how my older cousins had felt when they were put in a similar situation.
“And in exchange?”
“He will support your father in whatever capacity he has. If you stay with Bill for ten years, then your father has a shot at the White House.”
There. The end game.
“What if Bill changes his mind along the way?”
“That’s why we have a contract.”
I stare at my mother helplessly. There’s no guilt in her eyes, only resolve. I can’t believe we are even having this conversation. It’s surreal. But it’s real, alright.
“We need you, Leigh. This is a win-win for all of us. For Bill, for your father, for you and me. Your future will be secure with Bill.”
As if the only thing that can secure my future is money. She’s forgotten about love, trust
and passion, the most essential qualities of marriage.
How can I trust a man who’s buying me from my parents? He doesn’t even try to woo me on his own merits as a man. He’s using his money and power to take what he wants regardless of my feelings.
“What about the other contributors? Surely Uncle Jack and Uncle Tim will help Dad,” I ask, desperate for an escape.
“There’s no guarantee of the other contributors’ continued support. You know how fickle politics is. Loyalties can change in a blink. Your uncles will support your father, of course, but we need more funding. Bill can provide that. He’s offering a pledge of financial support for your dad, bound by an airtight contract. We must use this, Leigh,” she points to her temple, “more than this.” She puts her palm over her heart.
“So, you’re selling your daughter for political funding,” I say in withering defiance, defeat engulfing me.
Mom’s stare turns to steel. “Don’t be crude,” she snaps.
But her eyes quickly soften. She smiles, her eyes now imploring. I can see through her. It’s a ploy to blackmail me emotionally. She knows me too well. “Honey, Bill is a great catch. A lot of women would kill to marry that man.”
“I’m not most women.”
She ignores me. In her mind, it’s already a done deal. “And he looks dashing, yes? More importantly, he loves you.”
“Really?” I manage a hoarse laugh through the lump in my throat. “I don’t believe that even for a moment, Mom. I know something else but not love. Never love. This cannot be love.”
She frames my face with her palms. “Love can be learned, honey. If you respect the man, love will quickly grow. Bill cares for us. He’s willing to help us all the way. He’s a good man, Leigh.”
I pull away from my mother’s touch. She used to be my greatest source of strength and comfort. Now she’s pushing me toward a future of uncertainties, and I just know, loneliness. A loneliness that I will hide behind calculated smiles and practiced grace. But do I really have a choice? I’m a Spencer. Our name is a political dynasty. My uncles have been walking the hallowed halls of the Capitol Hill since I came to know what the Spencer name represents in this country. Almost all my cousins have married for political alliances. What makes me different?
I’m not a Spencer by blood. But I’m a Spencer everywhere else.
“If Bill really wants to help Dad, he will do so without any condition.”
“Your father and I will be able to sleep peacefully at night knowing you’re being taken care of by a man like Bill.”
I want to believe her, but I know it’s all for their benefit, not mine. “Because he’s rich? Is that all you care about?”
“I have to admit, that’s a comforting thought. Bill is our friend, and we know he’ll treat you right. He won’t ever risk losing your father’s friendship.”
I fall silent, lost for words.
“And you won’t risk disappointing your father, would you, Leigh? He has so much to think about, so much to do. Let’s make things easier and lighter for him if we can. We owe him.”
That’s the nail in my coffin.
She really meant to say I owe them. It’s the truth. I really do. I only wish I wouldn’t have to pay them back for having their love, for giving me this life.
But I must.
It’s my turn to serve the family.
Chapter One
BRON
Fuck, I ache.
No. I hurt.
For that girl.
Hands in the air, she gyrates her hips like a belly dancer, the cheeks of her full, perfect ass wiggling with every bump and grind. She makes a series of turns, honey-golden hair bouncing around her shoulders like the finest skeins of silk, slithering down the curve of her spine. Liquid fire, that’s how I’d describe her hair. I can’t wait to wrap my fingers around the strands as I tip her head back for my kisses. She looks like an otherworldly being, a fairy, or an angel cavorting among mortals, glowing under the dancing strobe lights, her skin so pale it’s almost luminous.
I’m both irritated and amused at my thoughts. I don’t do this, watch a woman and marvel at her physical beauty like a poet while my cock swells harder than it’s ever been, until it’s about to burst, along with my heart. My cock and my heart are rarely in sync, or never at all.
My skin is extra-sensitive now and I want to rip my clothes off my body. The hard-on pushing to break free from my pants is as raw and angry as the music blaring from the surround speakers in all corners of the club, demanding release. My lust vibrates with the heavy bass, rocking my whole body from the inside out. Blood pounds at my temples, in my jugular and anywhere else where there’s a major artery in my body. I’m a bomb ticking toward a cataclysmic explosion, barely controlling myself.
I want her. And she’s going to be mine. There’s no question about that. It’s just a matter of time.
“Who’s she?” I finally ask Sonny, the waiter who came to deliver more drinks to our table. I’m seated at the VVIP section of the club, right in front of the expansive elevated dance floor. This area is always reserved only for me and my brother and our guests.
Sonny follows my line of sight. “Never seen her before, Boss.”
“Never?” I repeat, though it doesn’t matter. Whoever she is, she’s mine for tonight.
“In my shifts, nope. By her classy-ass looks, must be one of those freshmen having her first night out without her folks breathing down her neck.”
“Is she with someone?” That too, doesn’t matter. I will eliminate whoever she’s with.
“I didn’t notice. But she sure has an entire pack drooling around her now,” Sonny observes. “She doesn’t seem to realize that, though.”
I both like it that she’s not with someone, but I also don’t like that she’s going to bars alone. What if some crazy motherfucker grabs her and—
I halt the direction of my thoughts as I feel my insides twist in violence. Just thinking about her hurt in any way makes me enter a very ugly place.
“What has she been drinking?” I ask.
“She’s had some glasses of Margarita, I think. She looks a bit smashed now though. A few more of that shit and she won’t be able to walk out of here.”
“Tell the bartender not to give her anything alcoholic anymore.”
“Yes, Boss,” Sonny nods and leaves.
“Maybe she’ll join us later, Bron?” The babe on my right slithers closer to me, her hand caressing my chest. She’s a beautiful woman but I want to push her away. I don’t want her touching me when every inch of me is jonesing for that girl on the dance floor.
The one to my left does the same, leaning her chin on my shoulder, her palm landing on my upper thigh. “She looks very young, but we’ll break her in for you just fine. We’ll teach her all the tricks you like.”
The other three busty babes on the table join them in a chorus of giggles.
One hand inches closer to my cock. “Don’t.” I say, moving my leg away. “Move over,“ I command no one in particular.
Pouting, they scoot away, giving me space.
The bitches have been eyeing my boner hungrily all evening and they don’t hide how they want it. If I ask them to, they would take turns blowing my cock right there.
Stupid bitches. I’m gonna break her in myself. And I don’t want her stinking drunk when I do so. I want her to be lucid and feel everything I’m going to do to her, remember everything in the morning as I do it all over again.
Fuck, I’m nuts for thinking this way.
What the fuck is she doing to me?
LEIGH
This club is awesome. It’s called Luxuria, located within the Golden Crest Hotel and Casino, where I’m checked in. It’s huge and multi-leveled. The dance floor is at the center of the ground floor and the people from the higher levels can see what’s happening here. It’s jam-packed as it is TGIF Night.
I’m loveless and alone in a plush club in the Sin City. Maybe I’ll meet someone and fall in love a
t first sight. I should at least fall in love, like crazy-head-over-heels-lose-my-V-card-fall-in-love even just once, before I get married.
I don’t wanna go into that marriage a virgin. I should give my virginity to the man of MY choice.
I’m half drunk already for having such silly thoughts. I didn’t know what I wanted to do here exactly when I chose Vegas as my destination, only that I wanted to be free. Like dance. Dance as if tomorrow will never come.
I’m all by myself in Vegas. How cool is that? No perfectionist parents demanding total devotion and sacrifice for them. No friends and relatives who expect the highest standards from me. No fiance who reminds me of the cold, barren life I’m going to live with him for the next five years as I fulfill my part of the contract as his gracious, obedient wife. His trophy wife to be exact. Thank God, children are not included in this mercenary arrangement.
In ten days, I’m going to marry Bill Peyton, my father’s good friend and biggest benefactor. Dad is currently an incumbent congressman of a district in Illinois. His career is rock-solid. I must not fuck it up while in Vegas.
But really, for the first time in my life, I can say I’m so sick of politics.
My father was a successful lawyer first, then he became a mayor, then a governor, and now a congressman. All these years, I’ve been his gracious, impeccably mannered daughter helping him during his campaigns, supporting him and Mom in all their charity programs. I’ve mastered the art of public appearances. I could smile all day, make polite talk even if my mind was elsewhere, thinking of the things I wanted to do with my life, if I only had the freedom.
I was hoping I’d finally get it in college, spread my wings on my own. I was wrong. I wanted to take up a journalism course but Dad didn’t approve. He said I’d only be wasting it since I won’t be able to practice a career in media anyway, that the public would crucify me because it would be unethical for the daughter of a congressman to be spewing political opinions on TV. It would be a conflict of interest.