by Amarie Avant
ENVY: Deceptive Desires
A Delacroix Family Saga
Amarie Avant
Storyline Editor: Elle Turner
Copy Line Editor & Final Proof: Wendi Temporado
Book Cover: Mayhem Cover Creations
*This Book is a re-release of Miss Scandalous *
Copyright
Copyright © 2016 by Nicole Dunlap as Amarie Avant. All rights reserved
Copyright © 2012 ‘Miss Scandalous’ by Nicole Dunlap
Publisher: Blu Savant Press
This is a work of fiction. All characters in this book, including those inspired by real people, are fake. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means–electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other–except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
All rights reserved
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
ENVY will break your heart. This is my primary intention in the Deceptive Desires series. I promise sexy, crazy, mad love will be had, but heartache, pain, and tension also make the world go round. If you read COVET, the prequel, then that’s awesome; you're already vested in Raven and Liam’s future. If you didn’t read it and don’t want to read about teenagers doing the ‘filthy mcnasty,’ just as well, I’m pretty sure that beginning with ENVY will still move your emotions, and force you to turn the pages just as quickly. For those who did read the prequel, some of you’ll hated Liam; good, that was my intention. Though he loved Raven furiously, he was young and his mind frame was cultivated by the Delacroix clan - his family.
“Tears come from the heart and not from the brain.” ~ Leonardo da Vinci
ENVY, the first book in this romantic suspense series, will allow you to flip flop amongst an array of characters because let’s face it, I want you to give a damn about the characters. I want you to love and hate them all in due time. Aren’t we all like that? Sometimes I can’t stand, Brandon, my husband. But I love him…
All right, let me stop rambling. Turn the page, pick a person to fall for, pick a person to hate… But do not hold your breath, things aren’t always as they seem.
Chapter 1
Raven Shaw
Dallas, TX
“Raven, you just went deathly quiet.” Calum’s mellow voice crashed into her thoughts. For the first time that day, there was a small level of uncertainty in the overly-confident, upcoming rocker’s tone. As if to say, what just went wrong? All along, he thought he’d had her open. If they lived in a different world, yes, she’d be wide open, feigning, ready.
“Just focused is all,” Raven responded from the safety of the darkness which surrounded her. They were at the top level of a brownstone building which had natural lighting from a 180-degree view. She basked in obscurity as her muse was bathed in illumination. “Keep it professional” was her motto, yet a warm flush crept up her body.
Licking her lips, her eyes roamed over white boxer-briefs, a thin barrier over a bulging package. His body was a canvas, a paraphilia exhibit. From neck to toe, tattoos covered the muscles of his lean body. Fortunately, her tripod acted as an imaginary line between the two. And the use of her camera allowed her voyeuristic diversion to run rampant.
He had a shock of blond hair. His angular jaw was the reason Raven had been so excited about switching up her approach and taking a facial shot. Calum was perfect, yet there was something about him that she hadn’t noticed before when they’d crossed paths at her day job at the coffee shop.
Calum’s face was a dead ringer for Liam’s.
The camera looped around the back of her neck came to rest at her chest. He didn’t seem to be buying the “I’m in the zone” spiel.
Raven’s head tilted just slightly. “I’m not one of your groupies, so no need to read me.”
Calum’s hazel eyes, which reminded her of that good homey feeling and a man she hated more than life itself, shaded slightly. He still wasn’t buying it.
“Just off my game for a moment, Calum.” Damn, the cocky bastard pulled the truth from me anyway.
“That’s why we need to keep the pathways for communication open.” He spoke softly, seductively, as if privy to her every thought. His undertones seemed to be offering to mend her broken heart. Well, the damn thing wasn’t broken, it was numb. And after almost five years, no badass punk rocker was going to change that. Even if looking at him gave her panties the liquid stamp of approval.
As she captured the rosary and skull tattoo across his eight pack, Calum continued to cultivate a connection. “Communication is usually a must for me, Raven. The only way the two of us can get exactly what we want is to be open with each other.”
“Mmhmm,” Raven murmured, not really listening to his mind games, which worked wonders when he came into the coffee shop for poetry night and his morning cup of coffee.
And then through her lens, their safe proximities diminished. He started off the stage.
Raven jutted her chin to where he should be. “Get your ass back up there.” She took a quick snapshot of his cocky grin.
“So we’re good?”
“Fucking golden, Calum.”
“Bueno. See, Raven, I knew one day after … How many years have I known you?”
“Known? None. Acquainted? Three.”
“Sheesh, those blue eyes of yours have always been so cold. I feel like I know you.” He licked his lips, and her camera’s rapid succession of shots had to have gotten something great. “But whatever, acquaintances, friends … We have ample time to work on that. How about drinks when we finish up here?” Those lips that many women imagined on their skin curved slightly. For Calum, smiling was a must. It was part of his charisma when chicks expected to be manhandled, fucked to perfection, and tossed away with their own giddy grins.
Instantly, her gold-toned cheeks burned a deep raspberry. It was hard replying while eye level with his cock, which was pretty darn happy at that very moment. At least, from what she could see—all the light was on him, and he wasn’t close.
She twirled her index finger for Calum to turn around, to which his head cocked to the side, nudging her to answer the question. Finally, she replied, “I have a boyfriend.”
“Who?” He went into an angular motion, displaying length and superb back muscles.
A giggle of happiness almost escaped as she discovered the gem to her portfolio. The tiger on his back would appear to pop out of that picture when developed. Pure genius.
“Raven, I asked who he is.” Calum faced forward for a split second.
God, this man is fine as fuck. “Cooperate, please,” Raven scolded. “His name is William. He’s a biochemical major at Dallas University.”
“Sounds boring.” Calum faced her again, thick eyebrow lifted. The way Calum bit his bottom lip made her body ache for him. But he wasn’t the first to stroke her desire without getting any.
“Not boring. Intelligent.” Her heartbeat kept pace with the muscles of his legs which tensed and relaxed. He stepped off the platform, sauntering over. His measured strides and the look in his eyes reminded her of the tiger on his back that she had been so intrigued to capture.
“Calum, get your crazy white ass back on the stage,” she said, surprising herself with her ability to form a coherent sentence.
Calum was too handsome, too suave, too self-confident just like … Liam—which instantly
turned her off. She slapped his hand away as he undid the top button of her flannel shirt. His searing stare dared her to re-button it and hide the exposed bit of her lace bra.
She smiled. “I’m celibate.”
“I’m gonna go out on the limb here and guess that it just means it’s been awhile since you had good dick.”
“Calum—” The curses slammed back down her throat as his hands gripped her waist and pulled her up onto the counter spanning the back of the room. The sink beside them was splattered in various colors due to some photographer’s painting fetish. The entire floor of the brownstone was owned by her Professor Tinker. Each photography student was allotted a certain amount of time per semester if they wanted to utilize the studio for a photoshoot. Though Raven had signed up for the time block, any of her fellow classmates had the key code and could come rushing in.
Yet logic was gone. His movements were precise, quick, and luckily didn’t involve him slamming her head back into redbrick behind her as he pawed her legs open.
Their lips flew to each other. It had been over five years since her body craved the touch of a man.
“You fucking want me so bad,” Calum said, searing hazel eyes bringing her thoughts back to Liam.
“Ye-yes,” the word broke forth from her bruised lips. Calum’s fingers roamed beneath the tight spandex mini she wore. The skirt had been an accident, the only change of clothes she had from going to the gym that morning, and a gift from a friend who argued about her always wearing jeans.
He held one hand in his boxer briefs, and the way he stroked at his cock made her think very bad, bad things.
“I’ve been waiting long enough to fuck you, Raven.” He had a Mark Walberg tone which soothed, even though his actions were hard. And damn it, she wanted him to fuck the cobwebs from her pussy.
Honey liquid lust controlled her every thought as his finger slipped past the thin silk barrier. Her hips bucked against his finger as it gushed into her wet, warm core.
“Li—” She almost called him a name she hadn’t uttered in years. Calum didn’t notice. Not at all, because the residual lust was clung to him.
“Raven!” barked an all-too-familiar voice.
Her eyes closed momentarily as Calum stepped away from her. He held his hands up in mock defeat, but his eyes said he was game for later.
She climbed off the counter and pulled her skirt down to a respectable length as the man who shouted her name in such a hard, disappointed voice stared, hands on his hips.
“Is this William?” Calum didn’t sound convinced. The man before him wasn’t the quintessence of boring, not in the least.
Stephen had the warmest caramel skin ever. He was wearing his navy-blue work uniform, but there was no doubt that his body was drenched in muscles. Soulful brown eyes and typically, a smile which was second only to his Southern drawl.
“No, I’m not that joke!” Stephen said of Raven’s boyfriend, William.
“Stay here,” Raven told Calum at the same time Stephen pushed through the door.
Yet those hazel eyes looked on inquisitively. There was way too much emotion in Stephen’s eyes to stymie Calum’s curiosity. Stephen was the man she loved. But he was also the longest friend she’d had since the death of her Grandpa Otis to cancer. Needless to say, best friend was exactly where he’d stay. And William? He’d play “boyfriend”—or more fitting—Safe Man.
She hurried down the steps with a half-naked Calum at her heels. “So who is he, Raven? I’m not a fan of breaking up a happy home, but you didn’t convince me you actually had a boyfriend.”
“Stephen is my … my best friend,” she grumbled, rounding the second landing. The sound of the double doors slamming below indicated that Stephen had made it outside.
Once they reached the bottom, Raven’s hands pressed against Calum’s chest. “This is where I leave you.”
“Oh, c’mon, Raven. I’m a fucking fan of love. Let me explain the situation. Like I said, I don’t fuck women in happy relationships.”
“There is no situation. There is no relationship. He’s just a friend, and he sure as shit isn’t going to want a half-ass explanation from another man!”
She turned and hurried for the door, but not before hearing Calum say, “Well, if you keep insisting he’s just a friend, I vote for us to continue …”
Heart in her throat, Raven stepped outside. She glanced up and down the street. Her lungs almost burst until she noticed Stephen’s Yukon parallel parked a little ways down the street. One high-heeled boot before the other, Raven quickly approached the SUV and tried to open the passenger door. It was locked. She rapped on the window. He pressed the automatic unlock button.
“What do you want?” Stephen stared at the steering wheel, jaw tense. A tiny vein pulsed on the side of his neck.
“Stephen, please. For four years I’ve told you it’s better for us to be just friends …” An imaginary fist wrapped around her throat.
“Do you still need a ride home?”
“Stephen …”
“Nah, see I’m not into that ‘just friends’ bullshit. Not today, ReRe.” His voice strained while using her childhood nickname. “I’ve already said what you and William have going is a joke. That’s not love.”
She had no comeback to the truth.
“And that shit I just saw upstairs—” he pointed toward the building, eyes bugging. Stephen had never cursed in her presence; his reaction made her eyes widen, too. His glower latched onto hers. “I’d never disrespect you like that. That guy doesn’t give a crap about you. I love you. I love you.”
Tiny prickling started in the corners of her eyes. Why’d he have to make such a declaration? How could she explain that friends made the worst lovers when she couldn’t even think straight? If only she could tell him about Liam. Yet she’d become involuntarily mute at the thought of uttering what Liam had done to her aloud, and to someone she cared so much about.
He leaned back, his large frame filling up the driver’s side of the car. “Now, if you don’t need a ride home, Raven, please get out.”
She took a deep breath, mumbled an apology, and slunk out of the car.
“Fuck,” Raven mouthed under her breath as she walked back toward the studio.
Her Granny Annette’s voice was clear as day in the back of her head. ReRe, you could be happy if you wanted to.
Raven’s thumb rubbed against the side of her index finger. She normally sat in her grandpa’s warm leather chair to think. She didn’t want to think about plunging from the deep end or the possibility of falling madly in love with Stephen as she once done with Liam. It probably wasn’t possible at all.
If she was guilty of anything, it was that she loved Stephen enough to save him from herself! Maybe the dissolution of a friendship was best.
Chapter 2
Liam Lemaître
“What if it was a scam?” Aretha stood before Jonathan Liam Delacroix Lemaître Jr, her long, silver dreadlocks held back by a leopard scarf which matched her dress.
“Then it was a scam, obviously.” Liam Lemaître arched an eyebrow, reached beside her, and pressed the elevator button to the rooftop restaurant they would be dining in.
Not ten minutes ago, they were exiting the tailor shop, which was a block away from Aretha’s favorite restaurant. They had relieved the driver before his custom-made fitting and chosen to walk to lunch.
On their way, a young mother was begging her son to leave an expensive specialty toy store. The boy cried loudly, wanting a wooden toy train. But it wasn’t his outburst that made people look. They were in Dallas, but a few blocks north. Their attire, by certain standards, didn’t belong. At least, that’s what blared on the store clerk’s face as he glowered through them with contempt.
In a split second, Liam calculated the kid’s age. He had to be about five. Liam’s own son would be roughly that age, if Raven had kept him … or had they conceived a girl?
As the mother pried her son’s hands from the glass door, Li
am had intervened.
Liam gestured at Aretha with a debonair wave as the shiny gold elevator doors opened. Each time his eyes landed on a kid, boy or girl, he thought about the child Raven aborted. And then, Liam Lemaître had realized that of all the material things in the world he had—and he had lots—his assets honestly didn’t add up to shit. Though his mind was on one of the greatest sorrows in his life, Liam smiled through his pain. His executive assistant wasn’t pleased with how altruistic he’d just been. Or his disinterest in the fact that the mother-son duo might have been a con.
“All right, say it was a scam. It is Christmastime, which increases the odds in your favor. Let’s say the kid is a blossoming actor, the mom returns the gift for hard cash, the rest of those rich bastards staring down their noses in the store are distant relatives of Scrooge, and I, myself, was taken for a few measly bucks—”
“In the normal scheme of things, two hundred dollars is far from a few measly bucks, but continue,” Aretha said.
He chuckled softly as the elevator zipped up the building. “And what about the other times someone is in need? If I allow myself to muddle over one person’s antics, someone who truly needs or deserves something is at a loss.”
“Oh,” she scoffed, getting off the elevator. They sauntered down a passageway of lush green foliage to the maître d'. “That’s life, honey. People window shop on a daily basis. On another note, are you burrowing yourself in that glass cabin in the woods this weekend because that dreadful Camille is coming to town? Now, I’m always advocating for you to go out—without it revolving around a business chat or paparazzi cameras—except when it comes to gallivanting with Camille.”
Liam considered that as they were quickly escorted to a table overlooking uptown Dallas. He often stayed at the penthouse in his hotel two blocks down the street. When he craved solitude, he went to the home he had made for himself in the woods that encompassed acres of land. Aretha had been Liam’s only guest, which was due to a mishap by the interior designer while Liam vacationed in Australia.