by Fawkes, Sara
medic on hand, it's these guys. Then again, at her first sight of the club's owner, she's the one feeling
breathless.
The man they call Torment is all sleek muscle and restrained power. Whether it's in the ring or in
the bedroom, he knows exactly when a soft touch is required and when to launch a full-on assault. He
always knows just how far he can push. And he's about to tempt Makayla in ways she never
imagined...
***
“Don’t you usually go to Redemption on Thursdays?”
Max presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “I wanted to see you.”
“How did you find me?” I press my nose against his shirt. The stale, musty smell of airplane
cannot overpower the fresh, clean scent of his cologne or the raw essence of Max.
“Secret.”
“It’s not nice to keep secrets.” I pull away and mock a frown.
“You kept a secret from me.” His breath is hot and moist in my ear.
My body stiffens. I am keeping so many secrets from him, I don’t know which one he’s uncovered.
Best to play it dumb. “What secret?”
“What were you thinking when we were grappling at Redemption?” His eyes blaze with sensual
fire and my mouth goes dry.
A thrill of excitement shoots through me. “Naughty things,” I whisper.
“Tell me naughty things.”
The DJ takes down the tempo with Alicia Keys’ “Fallin’.” A tremor shivers through me. “Like
what? I don’t really do naughty talking.”
Max lifts my hand to his mouth and brushes his lips over my knuckles. “Like ‘hand.’”
“‘Hand’ isn’t naughty.” I quiver as his lips feather up my arm and tickle my elbow.
“Oh, you don’t know how naughty it can be,” he rumbles, as he peppers tiny kisses over my
shoulder. “Say ‘shoulder.’”
“Shoulder. Max, what are you doing?”
He slides his hot, wet lips to the sensitive hollow at the base of my throat, sending tingles down to
my core.
“Say ‘neck,’” his deep voice demands.
“Neck.” My heartbeat quickens; my lips part. We sway to the music, our bodies melded together
as he plays his curious game.
He leans down and nibbles my lips, teasing them open. His kiss is soft and gentle. Sweet. But his
lips are firm. “Say ‘lips,’” he whispers.
“Lips.”
Anticipation ratchets through me when he slides his hand down my body to cup my behind. He
gives my cheek a squeeze. “Now, say ‘ass.’”
I shiver in response to his firm touch. On his lips, the simple word takes on a sultry, erotic flavor
that sends molten heat through my veins. I can do this. I have asked complete strangers in clothing
stores if my ass looks big. I often told Susie to get her ass downstairs for dinner. In the bar, I told
Amanda to wiggle her ass. Once, I even called Charlie an ass. My life is full of ass. “Ass,” I whisper.
“Good girl.” His lips brush over my ear, his breath hot and moist on my skin.
Suddenly, I feel very, very naughty and very, very aroused.
He runs his hand over my hips, in and out on my waist, and along my ribcage. My body trembles,
anticipating where he might go next. He brushes his fingers ever so gently over the exposed curve of
my breast under my dress. “Say ‘breast,’ baby.”
A soft whimper escapes my lips and my back arches, pressing my breasts against his chest. People
dance around us oblivious to the blazing inferno at the edge of the dance floor, unaware that the slow,
sensual brush of Max’s fingers over my sensitive skin has peaked my nipples and fried my brain. His
stroking fingers have turned the ordinary into the sublimely sexual.
“I’m waiting.” His voice is soft but laced with demand.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes...
Complete Abandon by Julia Kent
Copyright © 2013 by Julia Kent
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal
Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of
this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express
written permission from the author / publisher.
Author’s note: This novella is not a standalone eBook, but rather is a continuation of the series I
started with the Her Billionaires: Boxed Set book, and continued in Random Acts of Crazy and It’s
Complicated. While new readers are absolutely welcomed into the world of Laura, Mike and Dylan
and Laura’s best friend Josie and her boyfriend, Alex, Complete Abandon will make more sense if
you’ve already read the Her Billionaires book and, especially, It’s Complicated.
Sign up for my New Releases and Sales email list at my blog to get the latest scoop on new
eBooks, freebies and more: New Releases by Julia Kent
Laura
Should have named her Renesmee.
All those baby books lied, or they committed dramatic sins of omission. Either way, nothing
prepared you for motherhood. Especially not for nursing. Little Jillian performed baby acrobatics
during most feedings, attached to Laura’s nipple with tiny little glass-like protrusions masquerading
as teeth ripping into her six, seven times a day. No one had warned her about this. None of the baby
books really emphasized the fact that at some point, you would be nursing a baby with teeth like the
edge of a razor. If nipples were meant to look like shredded, bloody, Chinese lanterns, then Laura had
perfected the art of breastfeeding a six month old. Her daughter might as well have been named
Renesmee, and Laura might as well be nibbled to death by a great white shark.
It was just like when Jillian was a tiny newborn and Laura had come to the startling realization
that she was a fart hostage, trapped with this little rear end that emanated deathly biological weapons-
grade methane, inches from Laura’s face. And she had nowhere to go. She was this little being's
source of food, and the food was what fueled those noxious gases wafting up into Laura's face, making
her a fart hostage.
Thank God for her eReader. And thank a slightly lesser god for the Fifty Shades phenomenon.
While Laura was no fan of that particular book, or that particular series, she had found a wide array of
books that allowed her to escape into a completely different reality while she was trapped on the
couch.
Sylvia Day made the bondage of motherhood tolerable. So did Melody Anne, and Lexi Blake, and
Shayla Black. Sara Fawkes and Georgia Cates, and so many other authors who wove these amazing
tales of women who needed to lose control in order to gain it. It was fascinating, even though, in so
many cases the plot line seemed the same. She could take a book, a series like Sylvia Day's Crossfire
series, or Julie Kenner's Claim Me series, or Maya Banks' Breathless Trilogy, and go off into another
world. Laura found herself devouring these books, and then imagining herself in the role of the
heroine.
Not like she didn't have two heroes right here, right now, at her disposal whenever she wanted
them.
Somehow that made it all worse.
Loving Dylan and Mike was more than she'd ever expected. Living with them day to day was like
being divinely inspired on an emotio
nal, and psychological, and spiritual level. But the reality of a
messy house, an infant with high needs, of a postpartum body that reminded her of two hundred
pounds of jelly stuffed inside a giant balloon – that? That made her just reach for the eReader.
While she'd always felt insecure about her body, and had always been overweight with curves on
top of curves, now, six months postpartum she still felt six months pregnant. It was as if her curves
had rebelled and multiplied in her sleep, as if some sort of mitosis had taken place against her will.
She felt ugly, and fat, and stretched out, and so thoroughly undeserving of the two very sculpted, lean,
and exceptionally hot men who claimed to love her.
They did love her, and she knew this. It wasn't as if they were lying – it's more that they were
being nice, right? They were saying all the right things that you're supposed to say after someone's
given birth to your baby. But she knew. She knew they didn't find her body attractive. It must have
been a chore to sleep with her. It must have involved a lot of imagination, thinking back to how she'd
been when she'd met them just fifteen months ago. That body was the one that they really loved.
This body? No one could love this body. No one.
Letting her mind float off to other men, and women, people who are far more together than she
was, and finding something predictable, and comfortable, and yet, racy and mind expanding, was safe.
The few times she’d made love with Mike and Dylan since the birth of Jillian should have been
wonderful, but it was as if there were only two people there. Laura had to check herself out because
she couldn't believe what she had become. She couldn't fathom that they really wanted her.
As she sat on the couch, there was one person who did want her, one-hundred-percent. Laura's love
for Jillian was so deep and so intense that it guided her through those first few months. The love that
the three of them shared for her was unbounded, untamed, and every day felt new.
What receded, though, what had firm boundaries around it, ever tightening, was Laura's sense of
sensuality, of being something other than Jillian’s mom. She figured that was normal. She figured
that's what everyone went through. As the idea that she could be seductive, and attractive, and draw
Mike and Dylan to her the way that she had when they met, as that faded...she hoped that they could
still love her unconditionally the way that all three of them so thoroughly loved Jillian.
Her books didn't let her down. They were like her ice cream, always there, welcoming her with a
smile, and never demanding anything of her. If she had to be in control, if she had to manage one more
detail in her life, she was going to explode. It was easier to withdraw. It was easier to pour everything
she had into Jillian, and to micromanage her baby, so that as a part of her died off, another part could
blossom.
Guilt could be overwhelming, especially when Dylan placed a loving hand on her ass, or Mike
came at her with a kiss that had more heat behind it than affection. From the outside, she was so all-
consumed with Jillian that she just didn't have room for more than affection. It was a facade she
carefully constructed, and to some extent the guys were going along with it. Every time she imagined
making love she felt twin emotions that battled for domination within – and not the heady, come-fuck-
me domination in her books.
Oh, no.
It was the kind of overwhelming oppression that guilt possesses. She didn't feel worthy of
sensuality, so she evaded their passes. They slowly pulled back, confused but unsure of how to talk
about it, and when they tried she brushed them off. Stayed up late until they fell asleep. Took extra
long with Jillian in the rocking chair in her bedroom.
Waited them out.
Tears threatened to fill her tired eyes as Jillian reached up and grabbed a fistful of Laura's blonde
hair. The baby giggled, mouth full of breast, and spurted milk everywhere, which made Laura laugh
and cry at the same time.
Another set of emotions battling within.
Books let her feel something about anything but her life.
And that's where the love remained unconditional.
Josie
“I know you didn't invite me here for the mint cannoli or the fried pickles with guacamole-horseradish
sauce,” Josie announced, eyebrows so high she thought they'd be permanently wedged in her hairline.
What was this all about? A summons to Jeddy's was always welcome, but usually it was Laura doing
the summoning. The call from Mike had been interesting, the request to meet just him and Dylan –
sans Laura – a tad odd.
The looks on their faces now confirmed it. Oddities abounded. And not like on the television show.
Unless Dylan had a three-headed pig in a jar in his car and had recently learned to eat flames. Nothing
would surprise her these days...
She glanced at her smart phone. “Waiting for a call?” Dylan asked as he scanned the menu. Madge
had just thumbed Josie over to the guys when she came in; the new menus featured a smorgasbord of
new culinary delights.
“No,” she said, tearing her eyes off the menu. Coconut sweet potato soup with fried wontons
sprinkled on top and a dollop of paprika sour cream? Yum. “Alex is joining us.”
“Why?” they asked in unison, manly brows instantly frowning. Hoo boy. Whatever they wanted to
talk about must have a testosterone edge to it. Even Mike's neck tightened.
“Because he wants to invite you to join us and act out some scenes from the book Their Virgin
Princess,” she cracked, returning to the menu. “Except I'm not the one who'll be wearing the butt plug
in the desert.” She tried to stare down Dylan, but he wouldn't make eye contact. Didn't even react to
the bad joke.
Hmmm.
“What's that?” Mike asked, bewildered.
“Never mind.” She looked at the dessert specials. Candy cane ice cream with chopped chocolate
truffles and a local dairy's sweet cream whipped with Madagascar vanilla, drizzled with a reduced
blackberry sauce? Double yum.
“You can't just drop virgin princesses and butt plugs into a conversation and not explain,” Mike
protested.
“Sure I can!” Josie ventured. “Especially with a menu like this to distract us.” She buried her face
in the specials page. Holy smokes, Madge had outdone herself.
“Want one of everything?” Dylan asked, barely holding back drool. “The homemade mac 'n cheese
made with lobster and asiago,” he moaned.
“Who doesn't?” a wonderfully familiar voice asked, coming up from behind her. A warm hand
pressed against her shoulder and Alex's stubbly jawline caressed hers as he planted a kiss on her
cheek. Alex's brown hair was in need of a haircut, curling up slightly at the nape of his neck, and he
looked like he hadn't slept in a day and a half. Which was true – he hadn't. Warm, brown eyes locked
with hers, affection and love pouring out of them. A woman could get used to this, Josie thought,
delightedly—though actually she hadn’t . Her mind and heart still marveled, unaccustomed to the fact
that every single day she got her internal love cup filled to overflowing from him.
“You look like shit,” Dylan said to Alex in a voice that could have just as easily been saying,
“How's it going?”
“Sa
me back at you,” Josie jumped in. “Fatherhood has not aged you well.” Alex shoved his ass
against her hip, buying real estate in the booth. She squeezed a butt cheek through his scrubs. “You
smell like blood,” she commented absently.
“I'll smell like you soon enough,” he said cheerfully.
Mike groaned. “Braggart.”
“Just stating the facts, man.”
Dylan snorted. “I remember when I had facts that often. Lately, though, facts elude us. Facts, in fact, are hard to remember.”
“You mean sex,” Alex said. It wasn't a question.
Laura's guys sighed. So that was what this meeting was about. Josie's protective senses went into
overdrive. Laura was her bestie. This could get... complicated.
“Do I really need to know this much about your sex lives? Seriously?” Josie whined.
“Do you guys ever keep it in your pants?” a gravelly voice added. Madge, the eighty-something
waitress and, it so happened, Alex's grandfather's girlfriend, skittered by. Her nurse's shoes squeaked
on the faded – but clean – linoleum at the stalwart diner.
“Only when you're around, Madge,” Dylan shot back. She pointed her stylus at him and winked.
He slumped back in the booth and grimaced, making Josie snicker.
“That's because you couldn't handle all of me, Pretty Boy.”
Alex looked green suddenly. “Uh, Madge, do you mind?” His grandfather, Ed, had Alzheimer's,
though a recent med change had given Ed a much better prognosis and a better memory overall. His
filter about his sex life had faded, though, and Alex couldn't handle the truth.
Especially when it turned out Madge and Ed used Dan Savage's column as a bucket list.
That they were rapidly making their way through.
Madge opened her puckered smoker's mouth to say something else to Dylan, shot Alex a sidelong
glance, and then snapped her lips shut. “You want one of everything?” she asked the group. “All the
new specials?”
Everyone groaned.
“What's with the menu?” Mike asked. “This is amazing.”
“My grandson, Caleb,” Madge answered, puffing up her chest like a silver-back gorilla after
eviscerating another alpha. The effect drained a little of Josie's appetite. “He's come to Boston to help
out more, and look at the difference.”