THORNE: Rose's Dark Contract

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by R. B. O'Brien




  THORNE: Rose’s Dark Contract

  R. B. O’Brien

  Copyright © 2016 R. B. O’Brien

  THORNE: Rose’s Dark Contract

  Copyright © 2016 R. B. O’Brien

  Cover Art by Lilah E. Noir

  Kindle Edition

  Published by: R. B. O’Brien

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven…the primrose path—Shakespeare

  William Thorne is a powerful man with dark needs and a troubled past who doesn’t have the time nor the desire for romantic relationships or notions.

  Through meticulous planning and iron-clad contracts, Thorne has managed to maintain a modicum of balance, control, and happiness by employing personal assistants to aid him in all aspects of his professional and personal life.

  Sex with no strings attached. Obedience without questions. An arrangement of mutual benefit. No mess. No love. No expectations. Nothing beyond a signed contract.

  But when Thorne meets recent music grad, Victoria Rose, the shy and beautiful down-on-her-luck waitress, obsession replaces his carefully constructed thinking. He becomes so fixated on having her, without a full understanding of who she is, that he rushes her contract, making mistake after mistake before the ink even dries. His once neat and controlled existence becomes blurred and smudged.

  Can the mistakes he makes be erased from Rose’s dark contract? Or will the damage leave an indelible mark that nobody could have seen coming?

  contents

  Author’s Note

  Other Works By R.B. O’brien

  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

  Author Bio

  Author’s Note

  (Disclaimer: This is a lighter, dark (I know, what an oxymoron) romance. There are elements of BDSM and scenes of possible dubious consent. If such topics offend you, please do not read…)

  This story was a long time in the making. I was in a rather dark place emotionally when I began writing it, and I just sort of let myself bleed the words out of my fingertips and onto the keyboard. I didn’t give much thought to what I was actually writing, where it might be headed, and I certainly didn’t think I’d be publishing it.

  When I shared an excerpt on my website, those who visited asked me to finish it, and I knew someday I would. I picked it back up and realized that the dark place I had been in was no longer at the forefront of my emotions, and the storyline shifted slightly. It became what you have here now, Thorne: Rose’s Dark Contract, a dark romance, told from the male’s perspective, something I had dabbled with before and truly enjoyed. Delving into the psyche of a character is really what writing is all about for me, regardless of gender. Why not a male? After all, we’re all just human beings.

  It’s been an incredible journey, and I have so many people I need to thank. That, itself, could be its own book!

  First and foremost: The small circle of family and friends who know I write. You allow me to make my dreams come true.

  To the Wicked Pen Writers and Mr. Blackthorne. Without each and every one of you, I would have lost my mind a long time ago. (Ssssh. Don’t tell them I already have.) The support, the interviews, the press and blog highlights, the advice, the reviews, and all the knowledge you bring, I thank you. We have formed something pretty unique and spectacular.

  To Michael Dalton, my Obi Wan Kenobi. I can’t thank you enough for always being there to help, to provide feedback, and for sharing your wealth of knowledge. (Most importantly, for agreeing to call me Rey instead of Luke—haha!). Truly, you are my guru. I thank my lucky stars every day that I met you.

  To Lilah E. Noir, the woman responsible for my cover. What an artistic genius you are in so many ways! I can’t thank you enough for everything you have done for me, including your feedback, promotion, and support, never mind the countless hours of just listening. You are my rock.

  To Shelby and Jenny: Gal Chat! Need I say more? Where would I be without either of you? I’d be nowhere. Period. Thank you for putting up with me. Never truer friends were there.

  To James Calderaro: I am in awe of you and your writing. You are forever my wordsmith and meltdown mediator. Ha! Thank you for your patience and friendship. Someday I know I will be teaching your poetry inside a classroom.

  To Mandi, my PA, who spends countless hours promoting and creating…just because she is who she is. I wouldn’t have been able to do half of what I accomplished without you. You are amazing.

  To Aiden Darke: Thank you for helping me to authenticate the male voice (though I may not have always agreed with you). Your wisdom, guidance, and friendship have helped me to grow as a person and a writer.

  And to Linzi Bassett. This entire book would not have been possible without you, quite literally! But it goes way, way beyond that, and I know you know that. Thank you just isn’t enough for what you’ve given me. But I give it to you whole-heartedly just the same.

  Also special thanks to Sherri Clark, Stephen Yelick, Lea Winkelman, Patrick Khayler, Sandra Archangel, Awaiting Frost, and Patricia Hinojosa. Your support and generosity cannot be taken for granted, whether giving me advice on covers, supporting my launch party, or making me graphics and promos, you have gone above and beyond.

  Finally, thank you to my Facebook friends and fans who like, share, and comment on my timelines each and every day. Some of you have become quite special to me. You know who you are and without you, none of this would be possible. I cherish you.

  I hope you enjoy Book One of the Thorne series, Rose’s Dark Contract. If you enjoy, please leave a review or visit my website, rbobrien.weebly.com, to give me feedback.

  With love,

  R.B. O’Brien

  OTHER WORKS by R.B. O’BRIEN

  The Natalie’s Edge Series:

  Temptation, Fall, and Redemption.

  Publisher: Extasybooks.com and sold where most ebooks are sold, including Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, and Kobo.

  Chapter One

  I was a monster, a sadistic prick really. I was sure it had something to do with the fact that my mother was a drunk, a liar, a greedy manipulator who had made me tell lies that changed my life forever.

  I’d tried to fix my past. I had in many areas. I had little to no contact with my mother. I’d devoted much of my life to worthy causes, to the underdog. And I’d built a bond with a friend whom I would trust with my life. In fact, I do.

  But at thirty-three years old, I still hadn’t been able to trust women in the romantic sense. I didn’t even want to try. I certainly didn’t want to fall in love; and I had pretty much worked out my life so that I was fulfilled both sexually and professionally without any attachment. It had been working out pretty fucking well my entire adult life. But I should have known from t
he beginning that she would be different. I should have listened to my instincts. Just how different, I would have never been able to guess.

  Her name was Victoria. Virtuous, innocent, young, naïve. And I would learn: alone, very alone. Lonely. Sad. Her eyes were boundless with emotion. Brown. Big. In direct contrast to her long, blonde, ridiculously sexy hair.

  I met her at a hole-in-the wall coffee shop one morning when I met with a small group of older, teenaged boys to pick their brains regarding a proposed space for a local community center. I had been fighting the tobacco industry for years, a cause I was deeply connected to, and I was finally getting closer to actually making a difference with this project. These boys knew all too well what growing up here was like. And so did I. The tobacco guys ruled and the younger generations paid the price. It was the land of the haves and the have nots, and it almost always revolved around tobacco royalty.

  When Victoria walked over to our table, I’ll never forget how her cheeks flushed crimson and her breathing hitched with the rise and fall of her huge breasts. She was petite, albeit for her breasts that could barely be contained in her hideous, pink waitressing uniform.

  She took her notepad into her shaky hands and struggled to make eye contact. Every single boy at that table stared at her. She couldn’t have been that much older than them. When our eyes met, I could feel our attraction, I could feel her attraction to me. She quickly turned her gaze back down to the floor, her hands fidgeting with the pen. I loved her shyness.

  “May I take your order?” She barely spoke above a whisper.

  The boys nudged one another and tossed glances in my direction. A few of them snickered. I almost felt bad for her. Almost. But feeling bad for a woman was not my style. Still, she must have gotten this kind of attention all the time. And her almost debilitating shyness mustn’t have helped.

  “Just a round of coffee and varied pastries would be fine.” I looked at the name tag above her right breast and looked back up. “Victoria.”

  “Okay,” she stammered and quickly turned away from us without making any eye contact.

  I turned to the boys. “You boys going to be okay? Need a tissue for the drool?”

  We laughed and the tension dissolved. We resumed our chat, ate and drank without much more fanfare, and I left there knowing I’d be back. In fact, going there to have my coffee would become a morning ritual on my way into downtown Winston-Salem almost every workday. My driver Ralph, who waited for me outside, actually became addicted to the coffee there. I had to admit, a better cup of coffee was hard to find anywhere else.

  At first, I ignored her. I liked watching her unease in my presence. I was sadistic that way. And good looks had never been my weakness. Let’s just say I was blessed in that department. My looks and charm hid my inner wickedness, a duplicitous veil, a cover to my true self.

  I decided to slowly unravel her. Tortuously slow. Watch her blush and squirm, force her to stay in my presence longer than was comfortable for her as I got to know little things about her. I probed her with questions. I watched her become more visibly relaxed the more I asked her but never fully. She had a habit of sucking in her bottom lip and fidgeting with her pen and notebook that captivated me in a way I had never been captivated before. She was gorgeous in that subtle way that made me hard. I knew I’d have her. I knew I’d have her on my terms. If she was looking for a sweet, romantic guy to sweep her off her feet, she would be sorely mistaken.

  “You have family around here, Victoria?” I sipped my coffee slowly, forcing her to make eye contact with me. I watched her eyes follow my fingertips across the rim of my mug, her mouth opening slightly to try to suck in more air. I could see my effect on her each and every time we spoke.

  “No. I have been alone a long time. My parents died when I was very young.” She tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear and looked up at me through long lashes. “I rent a studio apartment right over there. Across the street.” She pointed to a small home. I could tell she was embarrassed at her station in life compared to mine. I had made quite a success of my life for my age. I knew I was intimidating, but somehow I just couldn’t soften.

  “And friends?”

  She shifted, looking around the shop to make sure another customer wasn’t in need of her service. I saw the owner smile at her and wave off her worry. “After getting my music degree on scholarship, most of my friends moved back home to be with their families. I’m just doing this job until I can get a real job.”

  “Scholarship? Beauty and brains?”

  She flushed in embarrassment at my compliment.

  “Not smart? Just beautiful?”

  She blushed again and spoke softly, fidgeting as she did. “Well, I was able to go on scholarship because of music but I also got a second scholarship based on test scores in math. I minored in business and luckily, I was able to get my degree debt-free.”

  She fascinated me but I didn’t want to admit that so instead I would say, “Hmmmm,” and nod my head to indicate that I was done with her and she’d leave my table. Often I’d see her steal a glance in my direction to see if I was still paying her any attention, which always made me smile.

  Week after week after week, I would visit. The more I got to know her, the more I liked her, wanted her. I was attracted to her looks, her personality, her little mannerisms, but I was also attracted to her intellect. She was fucking bright. Really bright. Sharp, quick-witted at times. I had never connected intellectually with a woman the way I was with her. Sometimes I paid full attention to her and sometimes I completely ignored her. I kept her off balance on purpose.

  It was about control. I wanted full control. Of her. Of my life. That was how I stayed sane. That was what kept me grounded, in control of my out-of-control life. Order. I lived by it. No attachments. No messy relationships. No emotions.

  And it had been working extremely well, a two-way street. It wasn’t hard to find a woman who wanted to be submissive to my dominant games. It was consensual, easy.

  But deep down, I knew I was rushing things with Victoria. I could not deny my attraction to her. I could not deny I wanted her. I could not deny my need to make her mine, perversely mine.

  I had never pursued a woman like this. I had always done things in the most formalized way, carefully and unemotionally. I lied to myself. I told myself this would be no different than the others, that the arrangement I had in mind for her would be perfect. It would be just the thing to get her on her feet. She would benefit as much as I would from it.

  When I went in one morning and sat in my usual corner table, I found her co-workers grouped around her in a tight circle, a candle in the center of a jelly donut. They were singing happy birthday. I could see the read hue of her face from all the way across the room. It make my cock twitch, and I smiled, adjusting myself discreetly. They cheered and clapped for her and our eyes met. God. She was so beautiful, so natural. My decision was made there and then to tell her what I had in mind for her, an arrangement that would be beneficial to the both of us. Perfect really.

  “Hi,” she breathed heavily, finally coming over to my table. “Sorry.”

  “I see it’s your birthday?”

  She giggled and nodded.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  She looked much younger, not that twenty-five was old, and somehow this relieved me.

  “Do you have something other than this waitressing outfit I might be able to see you in?” I tugged the hem of her skirt, drawing the front of her thighs against the table. “Look at me, Victoria.”

  I saw the swell of her breasts again. I could almost hear the pounding of her heartbeat. If I could have fucked her right then and there, I would have.

  “Well? Do you?”

  “Um…yes. Of course I do, William.” I loved the way she spoke my name, the way her lips curled as she made the “W” sound. I stared at them and couldn’t wait until she was mine, to use those lips in any way I wished.

 
; “Good. I have something I’d like to talk to you about. I’ll pick you up for dinner at about 7:00 pm. Be ready.”

  “What? Dinner? You really…”

  “Sssssh,” I pressed a finger to her lips and stood. I ran my thumb across the bottom lip of her opened mouth and watched her eyes close. “See you at seven.” And I walked away.

  I took her to a cozy little Italian restaurant with the checkered tablecloths and the kerosene-lit candles in the center.

  When we were finally seated and she had removed her coat, I got down to business. “Victoria, I have a proposition for you.”

  “Oh?” she asked, timidly.

  “I know you have struggled and that you don’t have much, if any, family. And I started thinking. I’d like to help you. I am in need of a personal assistant and getting to know you over these last few months, I know you would be perfect for the job. You can work out of my home office most of time, and you can live in one of my guest suites, free of charge. I will pay you well.”

  “Oh,” she said again, her face crestfallen. I think she was hoping for more.

  “I take that as a no?” I watched her shift uncomfortably in her chair.

  “Well, no, I mean…”

  I flagged down the waiter. I wasn’t about to play games. I could easily find another personal assistant. And I was not a very patient man. “Check, please.”

  “Wait, William, I would love to work for you. I just don’t know what it would entail. I don’t even know what you do. Do I really have the experience you’re looking for?”

  I smirked. “Oh, Victoria, you’re exactly what I’m looking for. What I do is of no concern to you. What should matter to you is that I am rich, I am in need of an assistant, and I will take care of your needs.”

  She shifted. She didn’t understand me. I’m sure she was confused with my signals, my mixed messages, but I wasn’t ready to reveal my true intentions just yet. I wanted her to come to the agreement of her own accord.

 

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