by Mia Asher
I cling to Sébastien, stopping him from going back to finish his obliteration of the useless man next to us.
“Valentina …” Sébastien’s gaze bounces from me to William and back to me, appearing torn. Then he focuses on my neck, and a guttural sound escapes his mouth. “Your neck, Valentina. He fucking hurt you. I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.”
“Please. Sébastien. Stay with me,” I beseech him with my voice, with my hands, with everything I have, while holding onto him. “Let him go. He’s not worth it.”
Sébastien stills, nods and then looks at William. “If you so much as come within five hundred feet of her, I will fucking kill you. Now get the fuck out of here before I finish you, you son of a bitch.”
For the first time since I met him, I see fear in William’s eyes. He repeatedly nods as he struggles to stand. Once he’s on his feet, he runs out the door and never looks back.
“Hey, eyes on me,” Sébastien says. Spellbound, I watch him cup my cheeks, his fingers so gentle it makes me want to weep. A strand of hair falls forward and partially covers his worried eyes as he studies my face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I look at the door, William gone from the hotel room, from my life forever, and then focus on Sébastien’s dear face. I cover his bruised fingers with mine, my entire body shaking as all the love I have for this incredible, beautiful man rushes through me like a river of spring water, purifying me.
As our gazes lock, I know that I will be okay.
I will get there.
I will rise again.
I will stand on my feet amongst the ruins of my life and rebuild myself. If I cut myself along the way, I will bear those scars proudly for they are mine. They are proof I didn’t give up. I fell. Got up. Tried again. I will continue to do so until I get it right. And my love for this man will be the light illuminating my path as I make my way back to him.
“Yes. I will be.”
Six months later …
“SO ARE YOU NERVOUS?” Gigi asks over the phone. “Today is Valentina-finally-gets-laid-again day.”
I smile at the outrageous comment. After news had broken that William and I were getting a divorce, I found an ally and friend in Gigi. We became very close even though I wasn’t a part of that world anymore. She introduced me to Charlie, her lawyer, who was a miracle worker. No matter how good William’s lawyers were, Charlie and his team were ten times better. The divorce proceedings went smoothly, or as smooth as they could possibly go when it came to William and his family. Gigi mentioned some scandal about Loretta disinheriting him, but like a cat, he landed on his feet and is now dating a wealthy socialite. Poor woman.
I shake my head, dismissing William from my mind. He’s the last person I want to be thinking of today, or ever.
“Take a guess.”
“How many times have you changed?”
“Uh … why do you ask?” I grip the phone tighter and look at the pile of clothes lying on the bed, cringing a little.
“Because I know you, babe.”
I sigh. “Five times.”
She laughs throatily. “Oh, Val, when are you going to learn? You could probably wear a sack of potatoes, and Sébastien wouldn’t care. He’s just going to take it off anyway.”
I blush as memories of those two idyllic days spent in his hotel room replay in my head. “God, I hope you’re right.”
There’s a pause, and I know what she’s going to ask before she even utters the words.
“Have you heard from him?”
“Not since the last email …”
About four months ago, Sébastien sent me an email. He wrote in it that he had met a man through Sophie who was looking for an artist to paint a set of portraits of people living in remote places of rural China. The man himself was Chinese American and wanted to honor his heritage. He also happened to be one of the wealthiest men in the world, so he could afford to commission a world-renowned artist to paint these portraits. Sébastien wanted to do it. Not because of the money, but because he was interested in learning and visiting those gems of civilizations hidden away in the mountains of China. The only thing that made him waver in his decision was that he wouldn’t be able to get in touch with me for a couple of months. The places he’d be visiting didn’t have Internet or phone lines.
I knew Sébastien wanted to do it. I had never heard him so excited. And even though every part of me revolted to the idea of not hearing from him for months on end, I also wanted him to be happy. I told him he was crazy for even thinking about it. Take the job, I wrote. I will be here waiting for you. Waiting for October 5th and 2:00 p.m. to come.
The last time I had heard from him was three months ago when he landed in Beijing. Instead of emailing like we had agreed upon, he called. We stayed on the phone for hours talking about everything and nothing at all. Just like how it had been in Paris, but lovelier, far lovelier. Also, there’s something to be said about phone sex. We fell asleep listening to each other that night, the distance becoming a meaningless nothing for some brief, halcyon hours.
Life went on …
And three months later here I am, missing him with an ache in my soul. Whenever my mind begins to drift away with maybes and what-ifs, I shut it down. Fear is one big bitch, but turns out I’m an even bigger bitch because I am done, done, letting it control me.
“But he’ll be there.” I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back at me stands tall and proud. She earned it. She worked hard to get here. She smiles, her eyes glowing. “I know it.”
“That’s the spirit.”
My eyes land briefly on the clock hanging on the wall, noticing the time. 12:45 p.m., and my heart skips a beat. “All right, Gigi. I have to go.”
“I want all the filthy details later.” She pauses, sobering up. “Good luck, my friend.”
“Thank you. Oh, before I forget, I told Linda she could have the weekend off.”
“Already got it under control. I’m going to cover her shift at the store.”
“Wait, what?”
“It’s my store, too, you know? And I’m bored. I figured I could help a little.”
Soon after Sébastien left, I started working for Megan at her flower store in Rye. I learned a lot from that experience. Then one day she came in and told me she was moving to San Francisco. She was done with long distance relationships and was ready to follow her boyfriend there. Don’t think for a moment I didn’t see the irony in that. She asked if I would be interested in buying the store. I had my aunt’s money, and I had been living frugally since leaving William, but my savings were nowhere near the asking price. I was venting about it to Gigi when she surprised me by offering to be my partner and investing the missing amount of money. I knew what she was doing, and I was tempted to refuse her help. I wanted to prove to myself I could thrive on my own. But she made some valid points. She had a lot of money and saw a good investment in me. It couldn’t hurt her, and we would both benefit from it. I ended up accepting. A month later, we were the proud owners of La Bohème Flowers.
“Of course. I love it,” I say.
She chuckles ruefully. “Don’t get used to it. Now go. Even I’m starting to get nervous.”
We say goodbye and hang up. I take one last look at my reflection, butterflies in my stomach. “Ready, Valentina?”
Never been more ready, my heart answers.
I laugh, excitement and nerves running freely in my veins. Reaching for my bag, I leave the hotel where I’m staying and go in search of my future.
But it seems like fate has other plans for me. First, we hit tons of traffic. On the way there, the taxi gets into a car accident. I get out of the car and leave the taxi driver and the angry car owner yelling at each other. Now running very late, I try to look for another taxi. I find one by pure luck. Okay, maybe fate doesn’t hate me after all. I get in and tell the driver where to drop me off.
I look at the time.
1:55 p.m.
Shit.
Desperation boils inside me as I look around trying to find a man with the devil in his eyes. Then I see him. My ears ring. He’s standing on the other side with his back to me. He’s watching the city. If my heart could fly out of my body, it would be all the way in the sky right now. I go to him, tap him on the shoulder, ready to jump him or kiss him. He turns around, and my heart drops as the stranger stares back at me. I apologize, a false smile on my lips.
2:20 p.m. turns into 2:30 p.m.
As more minutes pass, I keep repeating inside my head that he will come. He will be here. Maybe he hit some traffic, too. Numb, I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold onto the hope inside. I forbid it to escape from the cage of my bones.
I sigh. My shoulders drop. The sounds of people laughing and talking around me disappear. Then, I remember the top floor. What if he misheard me? Oh my God, maybe that’s it. I run to the elevator, pressing the button to go up a few times. The elevator arrives. A large group of people gets out.
Except for one.
My entire body starts to shake. My heart explodes in a kaleidoscope of emotions, bursting out of me. His worried gaze locks with mine, and he smiles tenderly. And there it is. Hope, love, happiness exploding from everywhere in me and out of me.
I feel like I’m about to faint. “Sébastien,” I say softly, his name barely a whisper.
“Hello, Valentina.”
My knees give out as Sébastien steps out of the elevator and takes me in his arms, wrapping me in an all-encompassing embrace that swallows me whole. He breathes me in as a tremor rolls over him, and I breathe him. And all the months without each other fall away.
“You came,” I cry, gripping his shoulders hard, afraid to let him go. “You came!”
“Of course I came.” He caresses my wet cheek as he smiles softly into my eyes. “I waited here for a while, but when you didn’t come, I thought maybe I got the floors wrong and went to the top one to look for you.”
“There was an accident,” I say, trying to explain my delay.
He groans. “See, I told you.”
I smile through the tears in my eyes. “So this is how our story ends?”
“No, ma petite chouette.” He smiles back. “This is how our story begins.”
The end.
I WANT TO THANK MY husband and family for loving me and supporting me through it all. I love you more than words can ever describe.
Next I would like to thank each and every single person that helped me in creating Love Me in the Dark—my very special group of ALPHA readers. Without your help and feedback this book would have never been completed. Luna, Joanna, Katherine—LMitD wouldn’t be what it is without you! So I thank you so much for holding my hand during all those sleepless nights when I wanted to give up and throw in the towel. You were right there, putting your lives on hold just so I could have your feedback as soon as possible. You guys came through for me, and, honestly, I can easily say that this book is as much yours as it is mine. I love you, girls.
Rachel, Megan, Melissa, Deanna, Terilyn, Christy, Teri, Alissa, Mo, and Mint- thank you soo much for beta reading this book! Your feedback made this book! I appreciate you and love you <3
Jennifer, my beautiful and talented editor, thank you so much for being there for me and for dealing with my crazy. I wrote Love Me in the Dark, but it was your work and magic that made it readable and enjoyable. THANK YOU.
Melissa Saneholtz, thank you, thank you, thank you!!! Thank you for dealing with my crazy, for keeping me in check, and for basically taking care of everything while I wrote. You’re the best publicist ever.
Penelope, Ava, Claire, Leigh, Corinne, Syreeta, Raine, and all the awesome authors I’m lucky to call friends. You guys are my tribe. <3
Marla, I want to thank you for perfecting LMitD with your proofreading services. It was a pleasure working with you!
Layla, thank you so much for helping me with Sébastien’s French and all the translations.
Mo, I might steal you from Syreeta if you continue to be that awesome.
Kassi, thank you so much for making EV pretty and for answering all my questions. You were always there for me when I had a question with regards to the formatting, and, as always, your work is exceptional and reliable.
Hang, the cover you created for Love Me in the Dark took my breath away—It’s perfect. You’re so amazingly talented and patient! You have a client for life!
I want to give a special shout out to all the bloggers and readers that helped spread the word. No one would know about my novel if it weren’t for your help. I would be nothing without your help. Thank you for believing in me (again) and in LMitD. MAD LOVE TO YOU ALL!
Also, special thanks to Kylie and Give Me Books for organizing a kick-ass cover reveal and blog tour. You ladies are so wonderful to work with. Also, thank you to Lisa from The Rock Stars of Romance. Bethany from The Book Bee and Cheri from Kindle Crack, thank you so much for your support! Big thank you to Angie from Angie’s Dreamy Reads, Jenny and Gitte from Totally Booked, Yamara, Shayna, Kcee, Yvette, Sophie, Christy! And sooo many amazing bloggers and readers! Love you, guys!
Thank you to all my family and friends for putting up with me and for always being there for me. I know I’m forgetting someone and if I do know that I’m truly sorry. I love all the encouraging words, the lovely words from every single person that has stopped by my page and said hello. I love every single one of you.
This book would not be anything without the support and love from all of you. Thank you so, so much.
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Easy Virtue
Sweetest Venom
Arsen. A broken love story
Read an excerpt of Easy Virtue by Mia Asher
CHAPTER ONE
What is love?
I don’t know.
I’ve never had it.
Is it even real?
No, I don’t think so. I mean, how can I believe in love when I’ve never witnessed it? When it seems to only exist in books and films, or in the lives of people more fortunate than me? Trust me, I know.
Love is my personal chimera.
I am gazing at brown eyes, admiring the richness of the color, the beauty of the man to whom they belong.
“You’re so beautiful, Blaire … so wet,” he murmurs, his hand going between my legs as he begins to rub me. The soft invasion of his fingers spreads me open, tuning my body to his wants and needs, preparing me to be taken as the hot friction of his touch lights a wildfire within my body. It’s not the first time he has touched me like this, but each time feels better and better—the sensations all consuming and heady.
One finger.
Two fingers.
One finger.
Two fingers.
Over and over again.
His invasion is fast and slow, deep and shallow. His touch is soiled heaven.
As I open my legs wider for him, I wonder if it feels this good because of him, or because I’m taking something that doesn’t belong to me and making it mine.
“Don’t stop … it feels so good,” I breathe.
Okay, maybe it’s because at this moment in time this man thinks he loves me and no one else but me, however false his proclamation may be.
I close my eyes as his lips land on mine. He kisses me gently, as if I’m made out of glass. He kisses me with that familiar mouth I’ve seen smile tenderly at me so many times before. The assault of his tongue debilitates me but doesn’t incapac
itate me.
“It’s four dollars, gorgeous,” the cute barista says, smiling at me.
I’m about to pay for my cappuccino when I hear a deep, manly voice say, “Let me get that for you.”
A man wearing a beige suit comes forward, standing next to me as he hands the barista some bills. “I’ve seen you around … you’re Paige’s friend.”
I smile, licking my suddenly dry lips. “Thank you, and yes … I know Paige.”
The smile on his handsome face seems to freeze as his gaze follows the tip of my tongue, the spark of hunger brightening his eyes. Inwardly, I smile because who knew it was so easy to make men desire me, particularly when I went without attention for so long.
“My pleasure. Are you”—he coughs—“here with someone else?”
I shake my head and look at him through fluttering eyelashes. “No, I’m here by myself.” I pause, touching his arm invitingly, and smile. “Would you like to join me?”
He looks around the coffee shop, probably considering if he should, if it’s proper to do so, but less than five seconds later, he’s staring at me once again. “Sure.”
Yes, just like that.
The beige walls are spinning.
The clock is ticking.
The bed springs creak as the moon shines outside the motel window.
And the man above me kisses me while he fingers me, preparing me for him. Gotta love such a thoughtful man.
I can taste his sweet saliva mixing with mine, and I love it.
“Please,” I beg against his lips, reaching for his hard cock and wrapping my fingers around it. “I’m ready.”
I feel his mouth leave mine as he begins to make his way down my partially dressed body. “Are you sure, Blaire? Are you sure you want to do this with me?”
I open my eyes to witness what I think I want him to do. No, what I’m sure I want him to do. I can’t help the smile I feel playing on my lips as I see him struggling with his conscience. He asks me if I’m sure when he has already fucked my mouth with his cock countless number of times, when his fingers have filled every orifice of my body. Should I laugh? No … I decide to take pity instead.