TAINTED LOVE
Book One
Copyright 2014
Ghiselle St. James
TABLE OF CONTENTS
LICENSE NOTE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
FOREWORD
DEDICATION
PROLOGUE
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
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
TAINTED LOVE – BOOK ONE PLAYLIST
COMING SOON
CONNECT WITH THE AUTHOR
MORE BOOKS FROM THE AUTHOR
FINAL NOTE
LICENSE NOTE
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed, electronic or mechanical form, including photocopying or recording, or by information storage or retrieval system, without the expressed, written consent of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are purely the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental or is used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, music, and/or bands, referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ghiselle St. James is a Jamaican author who has a never-ending love for written thoughts: poetry, song lyrics and non-fiction. She has been writing erotic novels since she was 13 years old which made her popular with the boys (hehe). Writing has been her outlet for most of her life, and will continue to be.
I still hate talking about myself in the third person…
Having graduated in 2010 from Jamaica Theological Seminary, with an honors’ degree in Social Work, the writer in me seemed to reawaken and has yet to go back to sleep.
I completed my first novel in January of 2013 and had never felt so accomplished in my life.
I write what’s in my heart. It’s hard to separate my heart from anything I write, and so characters that are real to me often come out. I pray my passion brings you as much joy as it has brought me.
FOREWORD
Tainted Love is the second novel I have ever written as an adult. I’d completed it in March 2013 and had never felt more proud of something that I’d done. In its infancy, the novel was called Her Impassioned Plea (ridiculous, right?) and I was pleased with the words I’d strung together, the characters and the title. However, so much doubt crept in that it almost didn’t get released.
I let it rest for a while, embarking on book two of the series, and even while I wrote book two, I kept reverting to book one to tweak and add and subtract. Still not confident about all I had written for Impassioned, I shelved it, and soon, South Row came to fruition.
After wrapping up book two, I delved into South Row, completed it and published it. After giving my editor and another friend of mine excerpts of Impassioned to read, their confidence in what I’d written boosted my own and made the decision easy to make it my next release.
With a new name in tow and new ideas, Tainted Love became what it is now. I hope you enjoy every word and that you go through the various emotions that writing it brought me through.
More than anything, though, I pray this novel opens your eyes and your heart to the shit children face in this world. It might not be what is outlined in this novel…it could very well be worse.
Abuse is real ladies and gentlemen and if you suspect or know of any child being abused…get. Them. Help. The child you save today, could be the adult that saves you tomorrow. Pay it forward.
DEDICATION
To everyone who is broken; who think of themselves as beyond love and redemption…this is for you.
“Your past does not define you…you do.”
Ghiselle St. James
PROLOGUE
“Momma, please, I don’t wanna,” I cry as I try to pull my hand away from mommy. She is dragging me into…that room again, and…that man is there, waiting for me.
Her palms are sweaty and they feel icky on my hand. She is high, I know it.
“Shut up, you little bitch!” she snarls at me, spinning around and staring at me with those eyes that have not seen love for years.
I could never understand what I did to her. How much can a nine year old do anyway? All I know is that my mommy doesn’t like me very much.
“All this is your fucking fault!” she continues. “He wants you…they always want you.”
And with that, she pulls me forward and pushes me into the room where he awaits…with his magic potion. I start crying immediately and back up to a closed door. Fiona has locked me in.
“Well, hello, Little Redd,” the man I once knew as Uncle Max says with a smile, shaking the bottle of alcohol in my direction. I hate that name. I hate him and I hate Momma for doing this. Mostly, I hate myself for not running away. I am so stupid.
I fall to the ground and bring my knees up to my chin. Wrapping my arms around them, I begin to rock back and forth. It never protects me, but for a moment or two, I feel safe. I try to think of something else, other than what is about to happen. I think of my father, who I never knew and how he might be crying in Heaven for me. I think about a new family. I think about death. Yes, death would be good. At least then, I wouldn’t have to feel this pain anymore.
“You’ll only ever be good on your back, Delilah,” Momma says with such hate that I feel it in my bones.
My back.
Yes, that will be my future.
CHAPTER 1
15 Years Later…
Here I am, laid out naked next to a stranger I met just last week. His body sexily draped across the bed – limp in more than the obvious way – and totally drained from an afternoon’s worth of mind-blowing sexual misconduct.
When he first met me – not knowing that I was such a powerhouse, a vixen he says, in the bedroom – he was unbelievably afraid of approaching me.
We met at a Christmas party Simone, a friend of mine, had invited me to. I had glanced in his direction as he spoke with the CEO of the company and noticed that he couldn’t take his eyes off me.
I remember the moment fondly.
“This girl is the life of the party,” Simone babbled referring to me. She was on her fifth glass of champagne and was a little chatty.
She still managed to look stunning in her partially inebriated state; her curly brown hair falling effortlessly around her bare shoulders. The pearl charmeuse, tea-length halter dress she wore hugged her torso perfectly, showing off her best assets – her breasts. She fitted comfortably into her cream and gold soft leather open-toed high-heeled sandals, with a leather strap securing each ankle. I could see why
her male co-workers were so stuck on her. She looked beautiful and sexy.
“Oh, honey, no more champagne for you.” I took the glass she was holding and drank the rest of her champagne. That was my sixth glass, and I was holding my seventh, but I had a greater tolerance to alcohol than she did.
“Oh, my God. He’s coming over here,” Simone’s co-worker – what was her name? – whispered in a high-pitched voice.
She seemed very shy and her attire said it all. Her straight blond hair fell to her shoulders with killer bangs almost covering her eyes. She wore a red cap-sleeved linen dress with pleated skirting that fell below her knees and silver pumps. There was no sign of any cleavage, not anywhere. She was an understated beauty and obviously a virgin, but she was cool to hang out with for the night.
“Holy shit. It’s the guy I was telling you about. One of our bosses, the asshole. Shh, here he comes,” Simone muttered, obviously flustered.
I laughed at their obvious lack of experience with handsome men. No man was worth being tripped over. No man was that handsome. I had to know who this tyrant was that Simone always complained about; the man that – and I quote – “would be irresistible if he was nicer” – end quote. So many nights we’d meet for drinks and she’d be so dejected because this guy made some smart-ass comment about her work ethic, making her feel worthless; but then would do that much more to please him. I never understood the lure. If a guy made me feel like shit, he wouldn’t be worth my time.
“Hello.” His deep, richly smooth voice washed over me – and practically made my center quiver.
Simone’s co-worker blushed shamefully as she saw him. Sucker.
I turned around to stare into striking green eyes and a sexy smirk. I can only imagine how many panties were dropped for him on a daily basis from that look alone. My eyes faltered to the glass of champagne in his hand, jealous of the way he caressed the stem. Now I realized why Cadence – that’s her name – was blushing so profusely.
I couldn’t help my eyes from perusing his lean, muscular frame in his black fitted suit. His crisp white shirt with almost invisible silver streaks was open at the top and showed a hint of smooth hair that I just wanted to run my fingers through. He had broad, square shoulders that I wanted to throw my arms around and/or hang from. God, he was truly magnificent!
The man smelled divine, of aftershave, body wash, the sweetness of the champagne he was drinking and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I closed my eyes and inhaled then reopened my eyes, hoping to have gathered my wits about me.
“Hello,” I said and threw him an innocent, but seductive smile. I watched his eyes widen then soften as he gasped quietly for air. Yes, fall to my spell, sweetheart.
“My name is Ben Hayes,” he introduced himself, flashing bright white teeth as he gave me an equally sexy, crooked smile. My breath hitched in my throat. Even his smile had an effect on me.
His wavy, dark brown hair was in a neatly raked and I’m sure every woman in here wanted to be the ones to run their hand through it and mess it all up. I was having that same fantasy.
Facial hair lightly covered his face and he simply looked the right side of gruff. I had never liked facial hair, but on him, stubble looked sizzling and sexily perfect. All I wanted to do was jump his bones.
But I’m a lady.
“I’m Sullivan.” I lied, extending my hand. The truth was too complicated to reveal on a first meeting basis. The truth was too complicated to reveal period.
A familiar pull awakened in me when our hands finally touched. Oh my. I felt his hand tense and as I looked into his eyes, he was gazing sharply at me, almost piercing my skin. It was a dominant look. I gave him an equally challenging look. He was stating his intentions clearly. He wanted me.
I felt a pang of disappointment when he released my hand, yearning for a longer, much deeper contact. Yes…sex. Being around him made me think of hot, hungry, rough, sheet-clawing, sweaty, uncensored sex. I jolted backward as butterflies ambushed my stomach, causing my core to clench. Oh my.
“Simone. Cadence,” he acknowledged the women standing with me. “May I steal a dance?”
Simone and Cadence looked feebly at him. The blood drained from their faces. I almost choked on the champagne I was drinking. Silly women.
He stared at them with deep, dark, intense eyes. He knew what he was doing. I downed the rest of my champagne, ready to be whisked away to the dance floor.
Ben took Cadence’s hand, passing me over completely. I almost sank to the floor. What the hell? Cadence stared back at us with a horrifyingly surprised look.
“Totally out of her depth,” Simone muttered, sniggering at what had just happened.
He passed me over? Me? My mind registered the shock over and over again. I stood devastated. That had never happened to me before. Was my radar off? Were the signals not there? I knew he wanted me; they always want me. What happened?
As he danced with Cadence to a soulful and jazzy version of Tainted Love, his eyes glanced periodically to where Simone and I stood. A little pissed off, I grabbed another glass of champagne from the tray the waiter bore, drinking it quickly.
Locking my vision on the masterpiece that is Ben Hayes dancing with the ultra-shy and mediocre-looking Cadence, I felt knocked down a peg…and jealous. I felt jealous. An emotion I had never cared to harbor, since no man was worth being jealous over when I could have any man I wanted. Somehow, this…Ben was making me experience that in waves. My thoughts had scrambled and I needed to pull myself together.
Excusing myself from Simone, I walked briskly – swaying a bit from the alcohol – to the restroom. Thankfully I was alone, aside from the restroom attendant. I’d have some time to think about what just happened.
I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked good. I looked sexy. Sure, my supple dark tan skin had a sheen of sweat to it, but that added to the sex appeal. My purple dress was clinging to my every curve, not even a glove could fit this well. My hair was in a tight bun, making my eyes pinch in a seductive way. I was wearing lip gloss, accentuating my lips to irresistible proportions. I looked fuckable in every sense of the word and he still…rejected me?
Rejected? The thought weighed heavily on my mind as I locked myself in one of the cubicles. Then it came to me. I figured out his game.
“Silly rabbit,” I laughed to myself. He was trying to get my attention; trying to make me jealous.
I exited the cubicle smoothing down my purple, off-the-shoulder, fitted knee-length dress. Stopped in my tracks, I was greeted by the green-eyed God himself.
“Talking to yourself, are we?” he said with an amused raised eyebrow.
“Just responding to a text I found funny, Mr. Hayes,” I fibbed with derisive amusement at his expense.
Ben stared at me his lips twisting into a half smile. “I’m trying to figure you out.”
“Figure me out? I’m not a jigsaw puzzle, Mr. Hayes,” I snorted, my voice smooth and sultry.
I walked over to the huge mirrors, washed my hands then fixed my hair, ensuring that he enjoyed the show.
“But you are a mystery; a riddle maybe,” he replied, passing me a quizzical glance. “I was afraid of approaching you. That’s never happened to me before.”
I was sure something like that didn’t happen to a man like him who exuded such power, such control. I knew if I kept up my charade, I would have had him hook, line and sinker.
“Oh, really?” I faked surprise, my acting skills on fine display.
“When you looked at me earlier before I came over, I was literally pinned by those seductive eyes of yours,” he confessed. Ben perused my face, his green eyes pulling me into him. I could get lost in them, to be honest.
Get it together, lady, I implored myself inwardly.
“You intrigue me, Sullivan,” he continued, “but you don’t play fair. So that’s why I had to go all “silly rabbit” on you…” He got me. “…and dance with Cadence.” Busted.
He paused and grabbed m
y hand as though in desperation, rubbing small circles along my knuckles. “I need to see you away from here.”
“Why?” I finally breathed, not aware that I’d been holding my breath.
He commanded my attention, unbeknownst to him of course, and it pissed me off. My center clenched, moistening at his touch, those tiny circles creating mayhem to my already intoxicated body. Under normal circumstances, this dalliance would end up being a restroom quickie, but there was nothing normal about this moment. He had me weak in the knees. My plan was crumbling; melting away in the seat of my panties.
“Because I want to explore your body in as many ways pleasurable,” he said simply as he ran his smooth lips over my knuckles. “Have you seen the way you look? Every man in here wants a piece of you, but I’m the only one with enough balls to come get what I want.”
What little resistance I had evaporated as I flicked my big brown eyes up to him. My stomach fluttered and my lips parted as his eyes pierced through me. I could see the desire all over his face. He did want me.
And God, did I want him!
Why did he have this effect on me? I felt like I wanted to throw myself at him. This is that pull Simone was talking about. You couldn’t help but want to please this…God, because – make no mistake – that was what he was. Shaking myself from my lustful haze, I took control of the situation, just to see what he would do with a woman who took control.
No time for long conversations or grand romantic gestures, I tugged my hand from his and moved it deftly inside his jacket pocket, pulling out his wallet. His eyes became wide with a raised eyebrow and a quizzical look, waiting to see what I would do with his wallet.
I quickly pulled out one of his business cards and examined it.
“I can write my personal cell on there,” he offered, reaching for the card. I flashed him a reproachful look, freezing his hand in mid-air which he slowly retracted to his side.
Tainted Love (Book 1) Page 1
