Reign: A Romance Anthology

by Nina Levine

  “You.”

  “Why?”

  “You keep surprising me.”

  “Don’t tell me you had me pegged as a drug dealer and peddler of pussy only. I have many layers.”

  I played with the hair at the base of his skull. “I’m starting to see that.”

  The playfulness bled from his eyes, scorching lust filling its space. “Fuck, Wren, this is fucking torture.”

  “I know,” I whispered.

  He groaned as he repositioned himself. “I can’t handle not knowing. It’s fucking driving me crazy. You’re driving me to distraction, to the point where I can’t even think straight anymore.” He caressed my cheek, the side of my neck, the swoop of my collarbones. My heart rate increased two-fold at his reverent touch, at his desperate words.

  “Please tell me you’ll have an answer by the end of the night.”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  Frowning, he dropped his hand to my waist. “Yes, you’ll have an answer or yes, you’ll be mine?”

  Be his.

  Fuck, that sounded amazing…

  … except he hadn’t mentioned the deal.

  It seemed like it was as far from his mind as it was from mine.

  “I don’t know if I could walk away after two weeks, though,” I whispered, touching his stubbled jaw. “What if you’re done with me after two weeks? What if you don’t want me anymore?”

  The muscles under my fingers bulged as he worked his jaw. “You’re what I want, Wren. Yes, it started out as just a way to fuck you, but now that I’ve had you, now that I know more about you, I don’t care about the deal. Hawk’s debt is wiped as far as I’m concerned as long as I can have you in my bed for however long you’ll stay.”

  I wanted to give him exactly what he needed because I wanted it to. Leaning in, I fused my mouth with his, showing how much I liked that idea. With a groan, he skimmed his hand down over my breasts, my stomach, my thighs until he inched his hand under the hem of my dress. I moaned into his mouth when his expert fingers whispered against my panties, stroking my clit through them. Bane rubbed the seam against my sensitive flesh, making me wetter, making me hotter.

  The sound of a door opening and closing gained my attention, though, and I pulled away. He didn’t let me get too far, curling his hand around the top of my spine. He held me close to him, his mouth curled into a satisfied smile.

  “Someone’s coming,” I whispered hoarsely.

  “It’s my brother-in-law.” He kissed me again.

  “What if he catches us?”

  He shrugged. “What if he does. Public sex is a fucking turn-on.”

  “Bane, Bianca said you were coming over for dinner,” a man said behind us. I glanced up and caught sight of a fair-haired man in a blue button-down shirt and tan khaki pants. He smiled at me. “She also told me you were bringing a friend, although it’s clear you’re more than friends.”

  I wriggled free of Bane’s lap, shooting him a withering glare when he got one last feel of my soaked panties. “Hello, I’m Wren Montana,” I said, walking around the couches to hold out my hand to him.

  “James Ward,” he replied with an easy smile. His gaze ran over my face. “I can see why Bane would want to keep you to himself.”

  “James,” Bane warned, but his brother-in-law only smiled.

  “I was just yanking his chain. Bane never brings women here. You’re the first, Wren. Congratulations.”

  I swallowed that information a little roughly. “Well, I’m glad I am.”

  “Where are my girls?”

  Bane replied, “Upstairs. Feeding time.”

  “Ah.” Shooting another smile at me, he said, “I’d best go see my queen, then. See you guys in a few. Oh, and Bane, grab a beer for me, will you?” Then, with a wink, he was gone.

  Bane grumbled as he stood and moved to the fridge. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “A beer would be fine.” I followed him into the blonde wood kitchen, marveling at the scale-shaped pearly tiles on the backsplash.

  “Nice, huh?”

  “It’s gorgeous.” What I really wanted to know was what his sister did in order to afford a house like this. Unless they came from old money?

  He handed me my drink, and I took a sip.

  “Thanks. She fell in love with it, too. So I bought it for her.”

  I barely covered my mouth in time to stop beer from spraying everywhere. My eyes bulged as I asked, “You bought it for her?”

  He watched me as he took a sip from his bottle. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Wren. This is why I wanted to show you another side of my life. You’ve only seen the seedy side… the dirty fucking shit I do. I wanted to show you that there is light to my dark.”

  I liked Bane’s flavor of dark, but I was starting to get an appreciation of his light too. “I’m not in the habit of taking people at face value,” I replied, taking another sip. “I would’ve found out about this eventually.”

  Slowly, he walked toward me. When he was standing in front of me, he put his beer on the counter and his hands on either side of my body, locking me into place between his hard body and the equally hard granite digging into my lower back. When he leaned in and placed a sweet kiss on my shoulder, I sighed.

  “I want you to find it all out, but not now. Not tonight. I promise I will tell you every dark secret inside me eventually, if you decide to stick around.”

  Fisting his shirt in my hands, I didn’t let him move away. I loved the feeling of him being so close, but that love was tempered by reality. That what we had could fizzle out in a matter of weeks or months. Bane gave me a bruising kiss before stepping away, taking his beer with him.

  I turned in time to see James and Bianca returning to the kitchen, Valentine in her daddy’s arms. James went and sat down, and Bane joined him while I stayed in the kitchen with Bianca.

  She smiled at me as I leaned against the counter. “You have a beautiful home.”

  “Thank you. I love it, too.” She glanced over at her brother. “Bane is really too much.”

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “It’ll be five years in the spring.” She began prepping what looked like chicken parmigiana. “But enough about me, tell me all about you, Wren.”

  Hours later, Bane opened the rear door of his town car for me. I slid into the leather seat and rested my head back. I’d eaten and drunk way too much but Bianca sure as shit knew how to cook. I’d found out she’d worked as a chef before having Valentine, which explained how she knew her way around a kitchen. Bane closed the door after he slid in beside me, then hauled me into his lap.

  His hand was under my skirt a moment later, his lips fused to mine. His kiss was demanding, his tongue sliding into my mouth and claiming me. He stroked my thighs, then my pussy before shoving the scrap of fabric out of the way and sliding his finger into my heat. I cried out at the sweet invasion, then began to moan as he pumped it in and out of me.

  All through dinner, he’d kept his hand on my thigh, always inching higher, sweeping my dress out of the way. He’d stroked me through my panties until I was practically panting, and he only stopped when I crossed my legs. He gave me a meaningful look, which I’d ignored.

  Bane curled his finger inside me, hitting the sensitive spot and dragging an orgasm from me. I groaned into his mouth as he made me come, his relentless ownership over my body not stopping until I grew still.

  He kissed me again. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come. You know that?” he asked roughly into my ear, biting down on my lobe. I sucked in a gasp, the sting shooting straight to my still-throbbing pussy.

  Keeping me on his lap the whole way back into town, I wondered where this night would lead us. Was he taking me home? Was he returning to his club? No, not the club. It was closed on Mondays. At least I remembered that.

  “Stay with me tonight?”

  Yes. God, I wanted to. “At your apartment?” He nodded. “I can’t. I have to work in the mornin
g.”

  He stared at me, his jaw working. I braced myself for his refusal, but he stunned me when he said, “Tomorrow night, then. Can I have you?”

  A small smile tugged at my lips before I kissed him. “Yes,” I breathed against him.

  “Will you close the shop on Wednesday? I want you in my bed all night.”

  “I’ll have to check my bookings.”

  He nodded. “Do it, but fucking make it happen, Wren.”

  “You know, this bossing me around thing won’t work.”

  “You love it when I take control.”

  I did. I fucking loved giving it over, knowing that Bane would take care of my needs for me. But work was something else. This was my livelihood and also the only thing I would have left after Bane was finished with me.

  “I’ll let you know if I can reschedule my clients for Wednesday,” I told him.

  We pulled up outside my apartment, and Bane got out of the car, shutting the door behind him. I blinked, slightly confused.

  “Good night, Ms. Montana,” Andy said, looking at me in the rearview mirror.

  “Good night, Andy,” I replied hesitantly before Bane opened my door and helped me from the car. He escorted me into the building, where I thought he’d stop and let me go, but he went all the way to my apartment. After I unlocked the door, he strode in after me, slamming the thing shut behind him.

  “What are you—”

  Bane was on me, his kiss more fevered than before. “If you won’t come to me, I’ll fucking come to you,” he hissed, sliding his hand up under my dress and setting my pussy on fire with his touch. “I’ll always come to you.”

  Thank you so much for reading the beginning of Bane and Wren’s story.

  If you loved Little Bird, you can pre-order the full-length book releasing June, 29 2021

  Pre-order now!

  Little Bird

  Copyright © 2021 by Kally Ash

  The right of Kally Ash to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-922353-37-5

  All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organisations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical or mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the author.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Edited by Kaylene Osborn (Swish Design & Editing)

  Proofread by Nicki Kuzn (Swish Design & Editing)

  About the Author

  Kally Ash is a USA Today Best Selling Author whose passions include curling up with a good book, devouring chocolate and getting kitty cuddles.

  Some of her unicorn authors include Sawyer Bennett, Elizabeth Hayley and Haley Jenner.

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  Surrendered Hearts

  Nina Levine

  1

  Emilia

  I sip my wine and settle back into the plush sofa of the Alchemy hotel lobby, the newest and most sought-after luxurious hotel in New York, as I watch my fiancé enter.

  Everything about him is flawless.

  His ten-thousand-dollar suit.

  His muscles he works hard for.

  His chiseled jaw with just the right amount of stubble.

  Those dark glasses of his that cost him thousands and hide eyes that see everything.

  He doesn’t see me watching him now, though, which is exactly how I planned it. I need this moment to observe him before the whirlwind of the coming weekend engulfs me.

  We are to be married in two days and we haven’t had a chance to discuss it yet. We haven’t seen each other in two years, and I changed my number in that time, so we’ve had no way of discussing anything.

  Except, everyone knows that if Javier Torres wants to talk to someone, it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t have a phone number or an address for them, he’d make that conversation happen. Which means my fiancé hasn’t wanted to see me or talk to me since our engagement was decided by our families eight weeks ago.

  He checks into the hotel, his entourage of four sticking close to guard him. Being the next-in-line to run the Estrada Cartel means Javier goes nowhere without security.

  My phone buzzes with a text and I check it to discover a message from my assistant.

  Carly: Bob’s playing difficult.

  Me: How difficult?

  Carly: The kind of difficult that makes my skull want to explode.

  Me: Can you please just give me the facts?

  Carly: He wants to increase his profit share on the deal.

  Me: Send me the new proposal and I’ll look at it. I want this deal finalized before the wedding.

  Carly: Sending now.

  Carly: Have you spoken with Javier yet?

  I don’t respond to her last message. Instead, I check my emails and read through Bob’s new proposal. We’re working together on a deal to open ten exclusive health and beauty resorts for women across America. The back and forth on this has been a headache. If I wasn’t so intent on working with his company, I’d back out now. But he’s got the knowledge and the positioning in the market that I want a part of, so I’ve worked my way through each headache as it presented. This new one is a pain in my ass.

  I shoot another text back to Carly.

  Me: I’ll get in touch with Bob and handle this.

  Carly: I see you’re avoiding my last question.

  Me: Yes, because you’re my assistant, not my best friend.

  Carly: You don’t have a best friend. I’m all you’ve got.

  Me: I have friends.

  Carly: No, you have women around you who would die to appear in an Insta snap with you or be a bridesmaid for you or feature in a Forbes article with you. What you don’t have are real friends.

  She’s right, and yet, I don’t care. Having friends isn’t my goal in life. I learned at a young age to keep to myself and not trust others. My father’s lessons on this have stuck. I trust my two brothers and Carly, and that’s it.

  Carly: I’m dying here. You know I have no life and live through you. Have you seen him?

  Me: I’m looking at him. He’s checking into the hotel. But I haven’t spoken with him yet.

  Carly: Is he still as good looking as when he was keeping you awake all night every night and ensuring the security of my job by messing all your thoughts up?

  Me: Better looking than then. And this conversation is done now.

  Carly: Is that my boss talking or my friend?

  Me: Since I don’t have friends, it’s your boss.

  Carly: Right. Gotcha. But keep me in the loop! I need to know how this ends.

  We both know how this ends. With me married to a man I’m not sure I can handle or who can handle me. I’m a strong woman, stronger than most, but Javier was built to dominate, to reign over, to conquer. I’ve never been good at being conquered. It’s why I’ve never had a relationship that lasted longer than six months. Men don’t appear to like my style of refusing their bullshit.

  And that includes Javier.

  Hell, he only lasted six months before he walked out. I’m unsure of why he agreed to this marriage our parents desperately want. I know why I did, but I’d have thought Javier would find another way to achieve the goal our families have.

  I eye him again as he juggles checking into the hotel and taking a phone call. Whoever is on the end of that call has pissed him off. I know this solely by the way his shoulders have turned to stone. When he finishes at the front desk and turns to walk to the elevator, I verify his mood by the hard set of his jaw and the angry lines creasing his face.

  I know Javier’s moods well. Nineteen years of knowing a person will ensure that. Especially if you’ve shared the kinds of th
ings Javier and I have.

  I’ll never forget the first day I laid eyes on this man.

  We were both fifteen, but Javier looked older. Acted older. And had the muscles of a man rather than a teenager. I couldn’t look away even if I tried.

  And those eyes of his.

  Slate blue, they’re hypnotic against his tanned skin and dark hair, and have always ensured my complete attention when they’re on me.

  Our families had worked together for decades and it was that day they united in a deeper way. As part of that, both families came together for a weekend at the Torres estate in Medellin where we lived in Colombia. Javier was almost as arrogant and self-assured at fifteen as he is now. And since I’ve always been drawn to men like him, I had no hope of escaping his charms. Not back then, and not throughout my adult life. We may have only dated for six months, but I wanted Javier when I was fifteen, fell in love with him at nineteen, and have never figured out how to stop loving him. Not even when he left me two years ago and cut all ties without a proper explanation.

  A call comes in on my phone.

  Bob.

  I’m about to answer it when a text comes through.

  Unknown number: 52nd floor. Now.

  I grip my phone a little harder as I stare at the message.

  My heart beats faster.

  My thoughts speed up.

  My senses go into overdrive.

  Me: I won’t be bossed around, Javier.

  Javier: You will do as you are told, Emilia. Now.

  Me: This didn’t work so well for you last time. I’m unsure why you think it will this time.

  Javier: I don’t have time to waste on this today.

  Me: Such a lovely way to talk to your fiancé.