by Rowan Shaw
Table of Contents
Interactive Options
Copyright
REWIND
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Epilogue
RETURN
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Epilogue
REVIVE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Epilogue
REBOUND
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Reach Out!
About The Author
REVIVE COVER
Interactive Options
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ENJOY!
Copyright © 2019 by Rowan Shaw
Edited by Krista Venero from Mountains Wanted Publishing
Book cover by Molly Phipps
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any way or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without written permission by the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, or incidents resembling events, locales, or persons, living or dead, are coincidental. They originated from the author's imagination and are used fictitious.
Chapter 1
FLORIAN
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, bracing myself for what was coming. The small apartment I shared with my girlfriend on Rue Gambetta in Nancy, France wasn't located in the quietest area, but it was convenient and close to my office. Marlène owned the place, and she'd made it clear from the start that selling was out of the question. Her decision had left me with no choice but to move out of my apartment and settle down with her. Because I was an enthralled fool head over heels in love with her, I didn't heed my friends' warnings.
Now, there I was reconsidering every poor decision I'd made in my life. The mere thought of confronting Marlène sucked the energy right out of me. Maybe I should have turned around and spent another night at the office, but I was exhausted—in more ways than I could count. Sleeping on the couch at work was uncomfortable and impractical. Every morning, my disheveled looks made my staff question my professionalism and ability to manage the business while their skepticism only added to my lack of self-esteem.
Sadly, there was only ever so much avoiding a guy could do. Marlène had messaged me, angry that I was gone again. Of course! The guilt trips were part of the little games she liked to play. She blamed me for working too much, then she claimed she was lonely, only to ignore me whenever I did mak
e a point of being home.
There was that, and then there was the complete lack of sex between us. In six months, she had barely let me touch her. It was a slippery slope that had declined slowly at first. The drop into celibacy quickly sped up as more months went by. It was like she meant to punish me. Not that she would tell me what the problem was, exactly. Letting me guess was a lot more fun. I had an inkling what I was being penalized for, but who could tell for sure?
I'd grown a serious case of blue balls that never seemed to find release, and there was only so much jerking off a guy could do before getting bored. Not even porn worked for me anymore. I needed the real thing—soon. I wasn't sure how much more I could take before I blew a fuse.
I still loved Marlène. Or at least I thought I did. It was difficult to tell sometimes. It was hard to see the qualities in someone when their actions only shone a light on their flaws. It was impossible for me to feel confident when everything I did was the object of criticism. Every step I took, every word I spoke, my mere breathing seemed to irritate her.
I couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when she'd started slipping away, but I was fairly sure it began that fateful day at the doctor's office. Like a fool, I'd kept hoping the growing distance was all a phase, that we could retrieve what we had lost. I kept telling myself the situation would improve at some point.
Right!
Pondering the best way to tackle her bad mood and avoid yet another fight tonight, I counted to ten, breathed deeply, and turned the knob.
"Ma chérie, I'm home," I called, raising my voice merrily like there was nowhere else in the world I'd rather be.
I was greeted with a silence that gave me hope. Maybe Marlène was out for another night with the girls. How did I get here? From wanting her so badly I couldn't keep my hands to myself to wishing she'd be gone for the night?
I dropped my satchel on the table by the door and pulled at my tie, then took off my black leather shoes. I only paused when a familiar sound caught my attention. It was a sigh, a loud exhalation, followed by a louder one. I knew that sweet hum all too well. What in the living hell?
"Marlène?" I called as the sounds intensified, making my guts twist.
I headed straight to the bedroom and yanked the door open, my breath hitching at the sight before me. Marlène was sprawled on our bed, her legs high in the air, wrapped around some asshole's neck while he thrust in and out of her like he belonged there. The guy didn't even stop when I barged into the room. His growls of pleasure made me want to break his damn neck.
"What the fuck?"
My girlfriend gave me a quick glance coupled with a tiny, sadistic smirk. "Bonsoir, mon amour."
Mon amour, my ass! The guy was buried balls deep inside her, groaning his bliss in echoes of hers. I swallowed my rising bile and my serious need to puke, but the urge to vomit only grew when the man turned his head toward me.
"Guy?"
My voice broke as I watched my best friend still drilling into my girlfriend, only stopping upon seeing me. A lump rose in my throat, nearly choking me when Guy pulled out of Marlène like he was electroshocked by my presence.
"You told me he was at work," he snapped at her.
I inhaled deeply and tried hard not to lose my mind. I wanted to punch his damn stupid face. I shouldn’t have been surprised, though. Guy could never keep his dick in his pants. He only pledged allegiance to his cock.
It took all I had to remain calm and not charge into him when he ran his gray eyes over me, his light dirty-brown hair sticking to his temples that were sweaty from him nailing my girl. How long had they been fucking under my roof?
"Get out!" I snarled.
Guy raised his hands, not even caring to hide his junk that was still standing like a sword pointed at me. He wasn't even wearing a rubber. What the fuck? He'd been screwing Marlène raw. Now I'd have to take a test on top of it all to make sure they hadn't infected me with some shit. Guy was a womanizer. He buried himself in anything that moved. What the hell was Marlène thinking screwing him without protection?
I didn't know how long they'd been fucking behind my back. It may have started before Marlène even stopped sleeping with me.
"Get the fuck out!" I shouted. I wanted to break my knuckles into his fake-tanned face so bad. "Get out!"
When he wouldn't move, I picked each item of his clothes off the floor, stormed out of the room, and threw them all out of the apartment into the hallway.
"What the hell, man?" I heard him complain behind my back before he stumbled past me to retrieve his stuff. I pushed him out into the hall stark naked.
"Leave!" I slammed the door in his face and locked it, not caring if the neighbors heard us or saw his naked ass.
"Let me in!" he shouted pitifully.
I ignored his pounding and pathetic whining and went back to the bedroom, where I found Marlène wrapped in our white sheet like she had any modesty left.
"You're never home, Florian. What did you expect?"
Oh right, so this is my fault now? Of course! She was good at the blame game all right, but I couldn't believe how low she had stooped to stab me in the back this time.
I looked at her, trying to reconcile my present with my past. I wasn't sure what I could possibly have found so attractive about her. Granted, she had green eyes like no one I'd ever met before, and she was gorgeous. So damn beautiful I could spend hours in the sack with her and never get tired of fucking her. Just the thought of seeing her naked made my dick twitch on most days. When we started dating, burying myself inside her was all I could think about—all the time. She was a fucking addiction.
She was smart too. Smarter than anyone I knew.
But all that primal longing was back then—back when she was still playing nice, back when she wanted to get pregnant and carry all my babies, back when we'd fuck all night, then get right back at it the very next day.
There was a coldness to her personality that I'd failed to notice before. I should have known better. A guy should never let his cock control his brains. I couldn't find myself attracted to her anymore. She had finally managed to put out this fire inside me. It had iced over, frozen by the cold winds of our sexual winter. And her screwing Guy was the point of no return. There would be no rekindling the flame after that.
"You haven't touched me in months," she added like that explained anything.
My teeth clenched.
"I haven't touched you in months?" I couldn't tell if I was pissed, heartbroken, truly disgusted, or all of the above.
"Did you really have to fuck my best friend?" I croaked, mad at myself for losing my temper while Marlène managed to sit there, cool as marble. She was always so placid in her fury, it was impossible to compete and not lose my shit.
"You haven't touched me in six months," she hissed.
"You wouldn't let me touch you, Marlène!" I exclaimed. "I tried so hard. After the—"
"Don't you dare talk about that!" she warned, pointing her manicured finger at my face. Her sharp green eyes shone with hatred while her dark brown hair fell in her white-skinned face.
"What happened was not my fault, Marlène. Okay? Why are you still punishing me for it? I would give everything I have to fix it."
She stared at the ground stubbornly before pinning her emerald eyes on me, her mouth twisting into a pout of disdain. "Just so you know, Guy didn't take much convincing. He'd been trying to get in my pants for years. All I had to do was say 'yes.' What a nice friend you have there, really!"
I shook my head, disappointed in them both. "Of course it didn't take much. Guy is a man-whore. He'll fuck anything that breathes as long as it has breasts."
Marlène frowned at that. "Well, you can either accept that I'm having an affair with him, or you can leave. Either way, I don't care."
My heart raced. Marlène owned the apartment. I had nowhere else to go. My family had disowned me a long time ago—back in high school when the incident happened. Though my touristy business was growing, it was in
no shape to support me financially. I had no spare money to waste on an apartment of my own. Like an idiot, I hadn't tried to save up while living with Marlène because I had to put every cent I made back into the company.
"I need time to get back on my feet," was all I could say.
Marlène raised a dark eyebrow. "I'll give you a week to gather your things and get out."
I scanned the room. I owned almost nothing here except for the bookshelves against the walls and the stacks of novels piling up on my nightstand table. Besides those, I had my clothes, a couple of weightlifting bells, and that was it. The rest of the furniture was hers. Like an idiot, I'd let her convince me I should sell mine when I moved here. At the time, I needed money to start my company. I'd felt trapped and tried to do what was best. I was so in love with Marlène, I acted without thinking. Now I felt like a moron whose life was spinning out of control.
"How long?" I swallowed down the bile rising to my throat.
"One week, I said."
"No. How long have you been screwing Guy behind my back?"
Marlène smiled wickedly. "I don't think you want to know."
"How long?" I growled.
"Ten months."
The punch was painful enough to make me choke. "Ten months? We didn't even know about my issues ten months ago. What the hell is wrong with you?"
Damn it! I felt so damn stupid.
Marlène's sour tone turned spiteful. "I needed a real man. Don't you get it?"
I bit the inside of my cheek so hard, I tasted blood. She sure knew how to throw her blows where they hurt the most. I raised both my eyebrows, my heart breaking.
"So it all comes down to that, then?"
She knew my history. She knew her remark would cut me deeper than anything else she could have condemned me for.
"You knew I was bi when I met you, Marlène. I told you on our first date. If you had a problem with that, you should have told me from the start. You shouldn't have dated me in the first place."
I didn't even comment on her insulting my virility. I was used to that after all these years. It wasn't the first time she'd implied my being queer made me less of a man. At this point, I was done trying to prove myself to her.
"How do I know you haven't been meeting men behind my back?" she asked like I was the one who couldn't be trusted. "I've heard stories, you know? About the things you did in college. I know how perverted your mind is."
I narrowed my eyes. "What are you even talking about? Stories about what?"
"Guy told me about that time in college you brought two men back to your apartment. He would know; he shared the place with you. He said the three of you went at it all night. He couldn't even sleep, you were so damn loud."
