1001 Dark Nights Short Story Anthology 2020

by Fiona Archer

  “We’re being pretty obvious,” she whispered in his ear.

  “And?”

  She peered up at him. “You don’t want to keep this on the down-low?”

  “Not one damn bit. You may be Derrick’s little sister, but you’re mine now. Even if he wants to murder me, I’m not giving you up.”

  “Why would he? I’m an adult, and we’ve known each other forever. Maybe he’d be happy about it.”

  “Brie, he knows I’m kinky. Probably not what he’d want for his sister. But he’s just gonna have to deal with it.”

  His gaze was on hers, and he looked as if he was about to kiss her when Ashley interrupted.

  “Can I steal you for a dance, Jaden?”

  “Oh, of course,” Brie said, trying to step back.

  Jaden held her tighter. “Sorry, Ashley, but Brie’s the only woman I’m dancing with tonight.”

  “Seriously?”

  He kept his gaze on Brie’s. “Dead serious. I’ve been waiting years to dance with this woman.”

  As Ashley slunk off, Brie looked away, her heart fluttering. He seemed to mean it, but…

  “Jaden? That kind of thing probably happens to you all the time. How am I going to know…”

  Jaden tipped her chin up to stare into her eyes.

  “Because I meant every damn word I’ve said. I didn’t wait all these years just to fuck it up. And I’m no dog. Ink & Iron? It’s a great group of guys. We don’t party—especially after what Cole and I have been through with drugs. We don’t fuck everything in sight. We take this shit seriously. And this kink thing you and I need to talk a lot more about? It’s not something I can reveal to just anyone—fame brings a little too much of the world’s interest in my business. But with you, I can finally be myself. All of me. I could never trust anyone else the way I trust you. But all that shit aside, the real reason is you. I don’t care how many groupies hit on me. They’re not you. And it’s always been you. You’re my girl. I can’t have it any other way.”

  Tears stung her eyes. She cared far too much for this not to be real. “It’s going to take some getting used to.”

  “I get it, baby. But you’re going to have to trust me. You’re going to have to trust that I love you.”

  The tears slipped down her cheek, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. “You do?”

  “Yeah. Always have. Always will. Do you love me, Brie?”

  “I do! I love you, Jaden. So much.” Her heart was going to burst. With love. With hope. “Always have. Always will.”

  She let the tears fall unchecked as he kissed her, and she felt his love down to her bones, down to her soul. This was what she’d waited for her whole life.

  And now she was his, and he was hers. Finally.

  Copyright 2020 Eden Bradley

  About Eden Bradley

  New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author Eden Bradley has written erotic romance for Berkley, Bantam, Harlequin, Samhain Publishing and Black Lace Books, as well as indie publishing. Her work has been translated into twelve languages.

  Eden also works as a sex educator. She speaks on kink psychology, safety and practice, as well as sex positive culture for women. She also offers a series of writing craft courses. Eden lives in Northern California with her dog in a little house under the redwood trees.

  You can visit her online at EdenBradley.com, or you can find her on Twitter and Facebook, including her private Facebook group, After Dark Social Club.

  * * * *

  Dangerous Series

  Dangerously Broken

  Dangerously Bound

  Dangerously Bad

  Dangerously Inked (A Dangerous Romance Series Spin-off)

  The Dark Garden

  The Darker Side of Pleasure

  Hot Nights, Dark Desires

  Forbidden Fruit

  A 21st Century Courtesan

  The Beauty of Surrender

  The Training House

  Handler

  Sanctuary

  Breaking Skye

  Pleasure Point

  Tempt Me Twice

  Obsession

  Fallen Angel

  Keep Me

  The Lovers

  Midnight Playground Vampire Series

  Coming Soon! Bastards of the Big Easy Series

  Assassin’s Fate

  By

  Ella Sheridan

  Chapter One

  Somewhere in Rural Georgia

  Evie —

  The frigid water rose—calves, thighs, belly. Soon it would hit my chest, my neck. When it covered my face, that would be the end. No more running. No more fear. No more anything.

  No! Move your ass, Evie!

  Too bad my ass couldn’t move.

  A growl left my mouth as I struggled in my seat. Fate might intend otherwise, but I wouldn’t stop now, not this close to freedom.

  The battering of rain on the roof filled my ears, blocking out the sound of my panting, my racing heart, the gush of water as it hit the car and seeped in to fill the tiny space. The wreck had been a blur. One moment I was speeding down a dark country road, squinting to see through the sheeting rain; the next, the car was spinning out of control, taking a nosedive into a ditch full of rushing water. No warning, no clue what caused it. I was alone with the consequences and no idea what to do.

  I twisted again, tugging my legs hard, but got nowhere. The front of the car had hit something I couldn’t see in the dark. The dash had crumpled in around my legs, holding me tight while death took its sweet, freezing time creeping upward. If I didn’t get my legs free soon, it was a waiting game to see which would claim me first, drowning or hypothermia.

  Options?

  Breaking the window was out. I didn’t have one of those tools with the little points that could shatter tempered glass. I remembered something on TV about escaping a submerged car: outside pressure would keep the door closed. Wait till the cabin was full. The last possible moment. And that was if the door wasn’t damaged and could actually open.

  Releasing my legs was the only viable choice—

  “Look at you, thinking all logical.” The strain in my voice didn’t lessen the comfort of hearing something human, something besides the rain. If it meant not succumbing to screaming hysteria, I’d take it. “Okay, Evie, push.”

  The steering wheel was rammed right against my chest. I took a deep breath, braced my forearms, and shoved as hard as I could. Harder. A strangled shout escaped as I pushed, my muscles shaking, everything in me centered on the hunk of metal ensuring my death. Only when my breath ran out did I slump, defeated, onto it. Panting again. It hadn’t moved an inch. Not a centimeter.

  I slammed my hand against the wheel. Tears I’d refused to let fall seeped from the corners of my eyes.

  Bang bang bang!

  My head jerked up before I registered the sound. Confusion made the world spin before a flash of blessed light blinded me.

  “Help!”

  What if it’s Stone?

  The question stopped my heart. My husband had resources; how hard would he work to find me?

  It couldn’t matter at this point. Survive now; escape after. That was the only plan that gave me a chance.

  Sounds reached me from outside, banging, shouting, but I couldn’t understand the words. Chills shook me continually now as the freezing water creeped onto my shoulders. “Hurry!”

  The light wavered. I thought I’d faint when it turned away, but it was only moving toward the back door. With the angle of the car, the back was higher than the front, the water level lower.

  The door opened. I lifted my chin as the water neared my face. “Help!”

  The words were curses; I could tell now. A man’s voice, dark and vicious. My seat jerked hard.

  I opened my mouth to beg, bargain, anything to get me out of here. Before the plea could escape, my seat jerked again—

  And collapsed beneath me. The seat back and I both landed in the water, which surged over my face, fil
led my mouth, suffocated me. Hard hands trapped me beneath the surface.

  This is it. This is how I die.

  A rough yank. My body shifted, caught, then slid backward, away from the dash. I banged a shoulder, a knee, my head before finally, finally blessed air replaced the water and I was sputtering beside the car, trying to find my feet, my hands gripping wet fabric and thick muscles.

  A grunt sounded near my ear as my rescuer stumbled in the water, falling against me. A big body, smothering weight, animal heat that seared my frozen skin like fire before he hauled me away from the car. I could barely see through the punishing rain and dark as we struggled up a steep incline, but I didn’t need to see to know this wasn’t Stone. The body felt unfamiliar, taller, wider.

  Definitely not Stone.

  Safe.

  Everything wavered when my feet touched asphalt. I tripped, tried to get my feet under me, and the man circled my waist with a firm touch, guiding me forward. Yellow blinking lights registered—hazard lights. On a car, the door flung open, in the middle of the road. I didn’t resist as he led me to the passenger side, deposited my shaking body in the seat, and closed the door.

  I was alive. I folded in on myself, the shaking inside and out now. Minutes passed, and then the driver’s door opened and that big frame folded into the space next to me. He tossed something large—my duffel—into the back and closed his door.

  I didn’t want to look; I don’t know why. Maybe because I couldn’t handle any more surprises. I was safe; that was enough. Nothing else mattered.

  Nothing except the man beside me.

  I needed to know.

  I forced myself to straighten, turn. Opened my eyes. The dashboard lights cast green shadows on a hard face, narrowed eyes, firm lips. Thick, wet eyelashes. An unfamiliar gaze centered with unbearable intensity on me.

  “Thank you,” I croaked. Totally inadequate, but it was all I had.

  “You’re welcome.” He blinked, staring much like I was, then reached for the ignition. “Let’s get you out of here, okay?”

  I didn’t agree, didn’t have to. We were already moving. I’d go wherever he was taking me as long as it wasn’t here.

  * * * *

  Joseph —

  Fuck.

  I’d been drawn to her in the photo Maklyn gave me, but in real life, those eyes… Fuck.

  Keep your mind on the money, Zamora.

  Find the woman; retrieve the intel. Two steps to a cool $500,000, and I didn’t have to kill anyone. I’d take that deal any day.

  Dazed and drenched, Evelyn Maklyn looked smaller, more fragile than she had in her wedding photo, standing next to her much older husband. And just as innocent. Her dark hair hung in wet hanks around a pinched white face, and the shaking of her thin body threatened to unseat her. I’d timed the accident to the minute, but I hadn’t anticipated the ditch full of runoff water from the storm. Luckily the base I’d secured for step two waited only a mile away.

  Minutes later I parked the car next to a small, rough hunter’s cabin, the yellow glow of a lamp in the front window the only welcoming thing about it. Turning the car off, I glanced at my passenger. “Wait here. I’ll help you inside.”

  She nodded vaguely, her gaze stuck on that light. She hadn’t asked my name. Probably still in shock.

  I should feel bad about that. You don’t feel bad after a few years in this business.

  I stopped to retrieve the bag I’d rescued from her trunk before rounding to open her door. She stumbled her way out, her feet seeming to have lost connection with her commands, and leaned heavily against me as we climbed the front steps and I directed her through the door.

  The cabin was all one room except for the john. Nowhere to hide. The woman stopped right where I left her, staring at the sparse interior until I returned with a towel. She jumped when I wrapped it around her to rub the water from her face and the long mess of her hair. Those dark blue, mysterious eyes flew to meet mine.

  My gut kicked. A man could definitely be seduced by those eyes.

  “I’m Joseph,” I said, breaking the silence. Shattering the moment. She didn’t respond. “What’s your name?”

  A tremor struck her. “Evie.”

  I saw the moment she realized she’d given me her real name. Rather than contradict herself, she bit down hard on her lower lip. I fought the urge to rescue the abused flesh.

  “Well, Evie, you need to get warm.” A woman couldn’t get much more vulnerable than almost dying, but there were a few ways to strip those final layers—and I was a master at them. I jerked my chin toward her bag. “Your things are wet too. How about you hustle into a hot shower and I find something dry for you to put on after?”

  I could see the denial rise to her lips, but another shiver hit, and her teeth dug in again. A single drop of blood appeared on her lip. Evie winced. Before I realized what I was doing, before I could even think to stop myself, I stroked my thumb across her skin, removing the evidence of pain, replacing it with pleasure. Heat. The trust that came with human connection. All in one touch.

  Dangerous for Evie. Even more dangerous for me.

  Evie’s eyelids fluttered; she cleared her throat. “I’d give just about anything to be warm and dry. Thank you.”

  I let a smile peek out and didn’t miss the way her gaze dropped to my mouth. “You don’t have to give anything. Come on.”

  Evie surveyed the windowless bathroom as I ushered her in, and her shoulders loosened—the promise of heat mere steps away. She immediately kicked her boots off, spilling a muddy puddle onto the floor. I set a couple of towels on the closed toilet lid and backed toward the door.

  “Joseph?”

  My dick liked the way she said my name. I told it to stand the fuck down and raised a brow. “Yeah?”

  “Really”—she swallowed hard, her hands struggling to peel her jacket down her arms—“thank you. I couldn’t have gotten myself out of that car.”

  No, she wouldn’t have. And that was three times now she’d thanked me. “Evie…” I let a rumble of male appreciation rough up her name. “Stop thanking me. I’m glad I could help.” I stepped through the doorway, making a point to turn the lock where she could see me do it before closing the door between us.

  The shower started seconds later.

  I didn’t waste time. Firmly closing my mind to fantasies of Evie’s naked body behind the cabin’s only door, I moved to her bag, a long duffel filled to bursting. In the fifteen minutes before the water shut off, I emptied every item from the bag, inspected the seams and pockets, and repacked it all.

  No flash drive.

  Maklyn had been adamant that the intel he needed was on a drive in Evie’s possession. I’d done a sweep of the car this morning before she left her hotel room, and found it clean. Her bag and her body were the only other options, but the bag was empty.

  Her wet clothes? I’d check them and the bathroom when I hung them up to dry. She might transfer the drive into her new clothes. One way or another, I’d find it, even if it meant interrogation—preferably the old-fashioned way, in bed. Evie wouldn’t be the first.

  My dick tightened at the thought of her, bare and vulnerable against me.

  What if you don’t find it, Zamora?

  Possibility number three. And it would tell me all I needed to know about Evie Maklyn—and my client.

  The john door opened. Evie exited in a cloud of steam, a thick towel secured beneath her arms, another turban-style around her head. “Joseph?”

  I walked a small pile of clothes over—long T-shirt, loose boxers. “I think these will work for now.”

  When she retreated, I grabbed my own dry clothes. Five minutes later I was changed and hanging our wet things over the shower bar.

  Still no drive. Damn.

  That left only one place to search, though I had a feeling that, too, would be fruitless. The innocence in those blue eyes wasn’t a lie.

  I flicked the light off and rejoined Evie, anticipation beginning a slow t
hrum through my body.

  * * * *

  Evie —

  That glimpse of Joseph’s face in the car hadn’t lied—he was all man, all power. Big and broad. Handsome in that way that made you want to stare but also look away, knowing you’d never be enough to catch the attention of a man like that.

  I looked away.

  The couch sagged in the middle when I sat, the angle reminding me of the ditch, the water—

  I stood up a little too fast.

  Joseph was there instantly, his warm hand steadying me, his dark brown gaze replacing the chill as it traveled over my skin. “Nice and easy,” he murmured. Something beeped in the kitchenette, and he released me. Slowly. “Coffee? Decaf. I figured it would help you warm up.”

  “Yes, please.”

  He went to pour coffee, and I stood awkwardly, my mind racing. He would ask questions now—what did I tell him? Not the truth; God no. Anything but that. And yet the feeling of safety, the strength in his touch made me want to open up. Lean a little. I guessed some things never changed. Leaning on a man was what got me into this mess in the first place.

  Stone Maklyn had encouraged me to trust him after my father died. He’d said he would take care of everything. He’d promised to keep me safe, secure my future. Even convinced me to marry him despite not being in love. And I’d bought every word, every gentle, inexorable touch, every lie he uttered in order to get what he really wanted.

  Me.

  Memories crowded in, reminding me how thoroughly I’d been deceived. So thoroughly that I’d tried to be a good wife to the man I now knew had killed my father.

  A murderer. A man who’d explained in horrific detail what he’d do to me if I made the mistake of telling anyone what I knew. He controlled every local politician and half the police force in Richmond, Virginia—the important half. Those he didn’t control, he had no compunction killing. I’d seen it with my own eyes.