Bait & Switch

by Kendall Ryan

  Alphas Undone Book 1

  Kendall Ryan

  Bait & Switch

  Copyright © 2016 Kendall Ryan

  Developmental Editing by

  Alexandra Fresch and Angela Smith

  Copy Editing and Formatting by

  Pam Berehulke

  Cover design and Photography by

  Sara Eirew

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Table of Contents

  About the Book

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Stay Connected

  Coming Soon

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Books by Kendall Ryan

  About the Book

  Love is a trap, a trick only other people fall for. Former Navy SEAL Nolan Maxwell has no such illusions. The only things real in his life are his beloved bulldog and the two women who regularly share his bed. One is light—soft, innocent, and tender touches. The other is dark—and gives him all the wicked things he craves behind closed doors. It’s not cheating when each is aware of the other. But when he begins to feel much more than he ever bargained for, the order of his carefully crafted world is shaken, and he stands to lose everything.

  Nolan thinks we met by chance. We didn’t. I sought him out, seduced him, and in return got the sanctuary I needed to survive. But now, impossibly, I’ve fallen in love with him. I don’t care that he has another lover, because when he finds out who I am, it’s going to ruin any chance I ever had with him anyway. She’s the least of my worries.

  Bait & Switch is Book 1 in a new contemporary romance series by Kendall Ryan.

  Prologue

  Knowing how much her curves affected him, she used them to her full advantage. Standing before the floor-length mirror in her bedroom, she lifted her breasts so the cups of her bra cradled them nice and high. There.

  She gave a little wiggle in the mirror. Black leggings and a low-cut red tunic hugged the curves of her hips while still emphasizing her trim waist. She smiled at her own reflection, something dark and possessive flashing in her eyes, her mouth curling into a bloodthirsty grin.

  She wanted him to pant like a dog when he saw her. No more of this sharing bullshit. She might have said she was okay with it in the beginning, but that had been a lie. One meant to soothe and calm his worries, win him over. And she had.

  Tonight she would show him, despite her many faults, that all he needed was right in front of him. Two damaged souls with murky pasts who were perfect for each other.

  Nearly overcome with anticipation, she scurried around her bedroom, tossing stray clothes into the closet and fluffing her pillows for the third time. He would be here any minute, and she’d been looking forward to this moment all day.

  Glancing at her dresser, she wondered if the red pillar candles she’d lit were too much. He wasn’t much for romance, but she didn’t care. Tonight she was going to make him hers. It had been too long, and her body was almost humming with need for him. She wanted him to fill her and mark her skin, just as he’d marked her heart.

  Her bare feet paused at the wool throw rug beside her bed as something shifted inside her. Should I feel guilty?

  She was escaping a dark past . . . but it was light that cast the greatest shadow.

  Swallowing the bitter taste of acid in her mouth, she shook her head. There was no way she was backing down now. Everything about him made her feel alive, raw, and visceral. She wanted him. All of him.

  Hearts would be broken. Secrets would be revealed. And nothing would ever be the same.

  Chapter One

  Nolan

  The black leather ball gag went on first. I brushed aside Daniella’s wavy auburn hair to fasten its buckle, snapping my fingers for her to open her mouth and accept it. I stepped forward to tighten the straps, my body lingering against hers for longer than necessary. Her stiffened nipples brushed my bare chest and my cock answered, already half-hard, nudging at her through my jeans.

  I’d ordered her to stand motionless unless I said otherwise. But I made the task as difficult for her as possible. Every time she fidgeted, even slightly, I spanked her naked ass hard with my open palm. She shuddered and earned another slap. Her creamy skin had started to redden, her breath coming faster.

  She didn’t really need the gag. If I told her to be quiet, she would have done her best. This little ritual was all about heightening her anticipation.

  “On the bed,” I finally commanded, my voice low and gruff. “All fours, hands and feet. Show me your pretty cunt.” I might have sounded cool and in control, but my own heart was pounding just as hard and fast as hers.

  Her breathing hitched, and I fought down a smile.

  After leaving the Navy SEALs two years ago, an unfamiliar feeling of powerlessness had swirled inside me. The realization that no one needed me, no one was waiting on my command, had been a tough pill to swallow. And even though I’d been more than ready to leave it all behind, I found I hated my new life on the outside.

  But then Daniella needed me, needed me to be the man to save her. So I made that my mission.

  I didn’t remember my military years fondly, but for the sake of satisfying Daniella’s hunger, I recaptured that military air of authority. Power, punishment, strict control . . . I needed this almost as badly as she did. The high that came from playing this role was like nothing else. And judging by the way she hustled onto the bed, eager to please, my performance was a good one.

  Daniella grabbed her ankles and prostrated herself with her head down and ass raised high.

  Jesus Christ. My cock immediately sprang to full attention. Since a delay would just make her squirm with more anticipation, I let myself pause to stare. Tight ass with a slick, flushed pussy pouting below. Mile-long legs, shapely from all the hours she spent on her feet as a nurse. Ripe, firm tits with pale, pierced nipples. Hair spread dark over the white pillow, gleaming copper where it caught the light. Pale, freckle-dusted skin, decorated with a few swirling tribal tattoos.

  Well, it was about to be decorated with a hell of a lot more.

  I rolled on the condom she’d set out on her nightstand and pulled out a coil of silk rope. I climbed onto the bed behind her to tie her wrists to her ankles; she liked to be bound as tight as possible. Then I got on my knees, letting my steel-hard cock rub her wet pussy, teasing her mercilessly. She whimpered and tried to rock back into me.

  I’d been waiting for her to do something like that. “Bad girl,” I barked. “I decide when you get fucked.” I spanked her firmly, open-palmed.

  She yelped, only to choke when I spanked her again, again, and again, raising fiery streaks of crimson across her ass. I stopped when she sobbed for breath, knowing she was
overwhelmed with that mysterious feeling she craved, neither pain nor pleasure but something more. Something she couldn’t get anywhere else. Something I alone gave her.

  I grabbed her hips, digging my fingers in, and thrust forward, filling her inch by glorious inch. A moan of animal greed clawed up from deep in Daniella’s chest. I pulled back all the way and pounded in again, setting a punishing pace. My hips smacked audibly against her flaming ass. She cried out again when I bent forward over her arched back and sank my teeth into her nape, marking her every way I could.

  She thrashed to ride me, pushing back on my cock with what little leverage she had. Soon her guttural cries took on a familiar note of desperation. Panting with effort and pleasure, still biting the back of her neck, I let go of one hip to rub her clit. She almost screamed, and her pussy gripped hard, milking me. I groaned at the sensation; she must have been teetering on the edge since we started.

  I fucked Daniella through her orgasm until she trembled with overstimulation. But I didn’t stop there. I couldn’t—my own release was coming hard and fast.

  I kept moving my fingers as she squirmed, torn between jerking away from my touch and pressing closer. The heat in my belly built higher with every thrust. Just as it broke, her toes curled and she cried out weakly, coming again.

  Fuck. My cock throbbed hard, and I growled out a curse. Damn, that was good.

  Still buried deep inside her, I unbuckled the wet ball gag and let it drop from Daniella’s mouth. She gave a breathy, satisfied noise, working her tired jaw as I pulled out and sat back on my heels to untie her slim ankles.

  She rolled over onto her side, hugging her knees to her chest, her eyes still closed and expression relaxed. Once I’d pulled off the condom and threw it away, I grabbed the cashmere throw from the back of her desk chair and covered her with it. She lay there quietly, her breathing evening out while I sat beside her.

  Lifting one side of the blanket, I inspected my work. Her right ass cheek was red and warm to the touch. That would fade in a few hours, but damn, sitting wouldn’t be comfortable tonight. This was the part I didn’t care for. Guilt mixed with bitter uncertainty over what I’d done, making me wonder if I’d taken it too far.

  “Roll over. Onto your stomach,” I told her. Too stern. I swallowed and worked on letting go of the dominance still coursing through my veins.

  “I’m fine, Nolan. I promise.” Even as she protested, Daniella obeyed.

  I took a bottle of soothing oatmeal lotion from her nightstand. “I know.” Pushing aside my own guilt, I uncovered her and rubbed the lotion over the welts, taking my time to cover every inch of her bright pink ass, touching her gently so as not to cause her more discomfort.

  She let out a contented sigh. “That was . . .”

  “You have a good time?” I asked, only a trace of a smirk on my lips.

  She turned her head on the pillow, one hazel eye crinkled in amusement. “Are you fishing for compliments?” Once our scene was over, it was crazy how quickly we fell back into casual friend territory.

  “Hey, a man wants to know he’s done his job.”

  Although I already knew damn well I had. She still hadn’t budged from her spot, which meant I must have worn her out. Or she was savoring her journey out of subspace. I capped the lotion and pulled the blanket back over her, my work done.

  “So you were fishing for compliments,” she teased. But there was no real venom in her low voice. She still sounded hazy, her high not yet faded. Soon she would be just plain old relaxed. “Of course you’re the best fuck I’ve ever had.”

  I chuckled as I freed her from the last knots. “Now that’s what I want to hear.”

  Daniella scooted back to sit up against the headboard, tugging the blanket with her. I handed her the granola bar and thermos of black coffee I’d prepared earlier. She tore into her snack while I rubbed her shoulders.

  We fucked like this at least once or twice a week, which was fine by me. Her shifts were always changing, but I knew her general workday pattern by now. Slave away at the hospital for twelve hours, come home, drop dead, wake up hungry and horny. One kink session would soothe and refresh her nerves; two would knock her out again.

  Once Daniella seemed okay, I kissed the back of her hand and left to take a boiling-hot, soapy shower. I was meeting Lacey soon, and she probably wouldn’t appreciate me reeking of sweat and sex. Some women were into that, but I wasn’t going to bet on it.

  Especially not with this one.

  I thought back to last Saturday night as I scrubbed myself. When I first saw Lacey at the dive bar, she had seemed so innocent and out of place. But despite her modest casual clothes and scant makeup, she didn’t quite fit the girl-next-door type. She was too striking—her features too fine, her eyes too big and crystalline blue, her dark hair the color of chocolate too long and sleek.

  And even as she’d flirted, smiling shyly, enticingly, there had been something solemn about her. Something she held back. It only made me want to dig in and find out. Maybe it was my line of work, but a question deserved an answer.

  When Lacey told me she was new in town, I’d offered up my number in case she ever needed anything. Plus, I just wanted to fend off the horny, opportunistic vultures circling her. Moving from one city to another was always hard, especially for a woman alone. But I didn’t imagine I was fooling anyone with any ideas about my chivalry. She was a hot piece of ass and I wanted to fuck her, simple as that.

  And even though Lacey looked like a goody-two-shoes, she’d made it clear that she was interested. A few days ago, she’d texted to ask if I wanted to grab a drink.

  I’d said sure, knowing Daniella wouldn’t mind. We had talked a long time ago about what we wanted out of our relationship. We were there for each other in a unique way. It worked. Perfectly, in fact.

  After what Daniella had been through, her first priority was stability, and once she was safe, having her sexual needs met was a close second. Romance—let alone monogamy—didn’t even make the list. Two years ago, Daniella’s last Dom had ended their five-year relationship by kicking her out and replacing her with a younger sub.

  I’d been at the right place at the right time and invited her to crash at my place. This house was too big for just me, anyway, and my job paid plenty, so I was able to take care of her every need. Physically and emotionally. She took on more than her fair share of cooking and cleaning—I’d never asked her to, but she didn’t want to feel like a charity case, so in a sense she took care of me too, I supposed.

  And since I definitely wasn’t looking for love either, we were a good match. With no interest in messy entanglements that could lead to commitment, I ensured my world didn’t involve heartache. Two distinct events had led me here, and the six years I spent on the world’s deadliest battlegrounds sealed the deal. I only wanted easy, good times from here on out.

  I lived in the moment, and right now, my mission was to enjoy life without getting tied down. Take advantage of my newfound freedom away from the military. Screw whatever women caught my eye. I gave Daniella what she needed to feel safe and satisfied, and in return, I had a live-in fuck buddy to take the edge off whenever I needed it. Daniella was a broken woman who was learning to be herself again, and knew how to have fun . . . in more ways than the usual roommate. We had worked hard to get our relationship to where we were today.

  I left the bathroom, not bothering to wrap a towel around me. Daniella had finished resting and was getting dressed. She glanced at me as I passed her bedroom, idly curious, now in her black satin bra and panties.

  “You on your way somewhere?”

  “I’m going to meet Lacey in half an hour,” I replied, pausing at the door to watch two sets of Daniella’s curves—one in the flesh, the other in the closet door’s mirror.

  She ogled my muscular, naked body, her eyes drawn down to my generous cock, and I couldn’t help but smirk. I knew she liked what she saw, along with nearly every woman in our small Texas town. But a little female a
ppreciation never got old.

  Finally, she laughed and broke our staring match to put on her tank top. “You’re helping her unpack right now? It’s kind of late.”

  “Not right now. We’re having a drink.”

  Daniella hummed, giving me knowing smile. “Oh, I see. Pussy patrol.”

  I grunted in acknowledgment. With Lacey, I doubted it was going to be so easy, but that was the general idea.

  “Is she a frog hog?” Daniella shimmied into her baby-blue scrubs.

  I didn’t much care for that term, but it was commonly used to describe women who chased after Navy SEALs strictly for the bragging rights.

  “I don’t think so. Even if she is, I’m a few years past the expiration date.” And thank fucking God for that. Six years of ground-pounding in the world’s hottest crisis zones had been more than enough misery. I did my time, and had the battle scars to prove it.

  Daniella shrugged. “Those girls don’t give a shit. All they hear is Navy SEAL and their panties drop to their ankles.”

  “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” I said, lips twitching upward. After all, I’d had my share of fun with tag chasers before I quit the service. Why the fuck not?

  “Nah, of course not. Just seems like a lot of competition for . . . what, two thousand guys in the whole world?” She brushed her hair in quick, hard strokes and tied it up in a high ponytail. “Anyway, if you’re going on the prowl tonight, I think I’ll grab a quick bite with the girls before we carpool to the hospital.”

  I chuckled at the mental image—a gaggle of pastel-clad nurses invading the greasy spoon around the corner. “You want me to drive you?”

  “On your way to the bar? Where you’ll be drinking? With another woman? Hell no. Wouldn’t want to impose on your date.” She waved me away. “Now, stop staring at my ass and go have fun. You’re going to be late unless you get going soon.”

  “Christ, woman, sometimes I wonder if you’re really submissive.”