Dirty Dark Desire: A Dark Erotic Standalone

by Lacey Alpha

  “Ethan!” Clarissa screams over the fire.

  With a sickening feeling, I realise we're trapped, the flames stretching across the space before us, the heat so powerful, I can hardly breathe.

  Annalise grabs hold of me, dropping from the frame. She coughs, ducking her head into my arm. I tug her against me, feeling so out of control that I'm bordering on losing it.

  I spy the chest of Clarissa's wicked devices, wedged against the wall, the flames only just starting to take hold of it.

  In a flash of decision, I move.

  “Keep behind me,” I bark at Annalise and she steps into place. I lift Nick higher in my arms, his weight nearly breaking me. But I manage to continue, keeping him up high, darting to the chest and kicking it sharply into the fire. It skids forward a foot, giving us a brief moment to slip past it.

  I feel Annalise's hands tighten on my shirt and keep moving, heading through the thick smoke, barely able to see. Clarissa's not on the other side as I expect. But I don't wait to see where she's gone, hurrying upstairs to the door. Annalise moves past me, coughing heavily as she tries the handle.

  “It's locked!” she shouts, her voice trembling.

  Nick is passed out in my arms. I frown down at him, my heart racing, my mind spinning. Placing him down, I prop him up on the step below me.

  The flames heat my back, already licking the bottom stair.

  “Stand back,” I order Annalise.

  She moves aside and I slam my shoulder against the door. It takes two more tries before it buckles and I stumble into the hall.

  I turn back, dragging Annalise after me before returning for Nick.

  He groans as I tug his arm over my neck, grunting with effort as I lift him into my arms and head through the door.

  I hurry to the front door, twisting the lock awkwardly and opening it. My heart is frantic as I lay Nick on the steps.

  Turning around, I find Annalise missing.

  “Lise?!” I shout, marching back into the house in a panic.

  My chest cleaves in two as I search for her, desperate. Smoke funnels along the ceiling above me and I know it's only a matter of time before the whole place goes up in flames.

  A scream sounds from the kitchen and I sprint toward it. Entering the room at a sprint, I'm halted in my tracks at the sight of Annalise animal-like on the floor, straddling Clarissa, pounding and beating her.

  “Annalise!” I shout, grabbing her waist.

  Clarissa's face is bloody and bruised. She glares up at Annalise, her eyes sliding to me.

  Sighing, she drops her head back, her crimson hair pooling around her, her expression defeated. “You could have been mine.”

  I grimace at her, taking Annalise into my arms. “You know who I belong to. And that's never going to change.”

  Annalise's hands slide around me and she guides me away. “We have to get out of the house,”she mutters.

  As I step outside, I find people gathered on the street, holding phones to their ears, calling the police, ambulances.

  Annalise sinks onto the step next to Nick's unconscious form and I take my shirt off, pulling it over her near-naked body.

  She mumbles her thanks and I sit beside her, tugging her into my arms.

  “You saved me,” she breathes, looking me in the eye.

  And for some reason it doesn't hurt, there's nothing but relief, and I get lost in the beauty of those amber eyes, my chest expanding in disbelief.

  “No, Lise. I think you saved me.”

  ANNALISE

  Ethan escorts me to the hospital in the ambulance and when we arrive, I'm taken away to be tended to. I didn't even feel the pain until now, but the fire caught me after all. There's patches on my legs, red and inflamed. They burn like hell and it's not until a nurse gives me some pain relief that I'm finally able to focus my thoughts.

  Ethan saved my life. Nick's too.

  Nick was wheeled away on a stretcher outside Clarissa's house and I haven't seen him since. I don't understand everything that happened, why Nick was there or what Clarissa held against him. All I know is that Ethan came for me when I needed him most. He pulled through for me. And I'm struggling to feel anything toward him but love.

  Perhaps it's the adrenaline, perhaps once things have calmed down, once I've got my head around all this, my anger at Ethan will return. But secretly, I don't want it to. Crazy as it is, part of me wants to forget what he did.

  When my wounds have been dressed, my mother appears, her hair in place, lipstick on too. I almost roll my eyes as she rushes into the room. She throws her arms around me, choking and I know for once this isn't for show.

  I slide my arms around her. “Mum, it's okay,” I breathe.

  “It's not, it's not okay. You could have died. I could have lost you, too.” She sobs into my shoulder and I run a palm over her shoulders, feeling the weight of my father's loss, stinging my heart.

  I hiccough as a sob catches in my throat and Mum holds me tighter, in the way only parents can, holding me like I'm a little girl again.

  “Love you, Mum,” I mumble into her shoulder, her sweet perfume filling my senses.

  She sniffs, leaning away, pulling herself together and sitting in the lone chair beside me.

  I'm on a ward with rows of other beds. Most of them are occupied but no one but me has a visitor.

  Mum pushes my fringe back, frowning at it.

  I shake my head at her, a small laugh escaping my throat. “You've never liked my hair.”

  She inhales, shaking her head. “No darling, it's not that. Your fringe hides your beautiful face. Look at those cheekbones.” She runs her thumb down my face, pinching my cheek.

  I raise my brows and she breaks a sad smile.

  “And there's a very handsome man out in the hall waiting to have a chance to look at this face,” she says, giving me a mischievous grin.

  It's so unlike her. Something's changed in her since dad's passing but it's hard to pinpoint exactly what.

  She takes out her compact mirror, dabbing lipstick onto her lips.

  “Why do you always keep your make-up so perfect?” I frown at her and she lowers the mirror, clapping it shut.

  “It's silly really.” She shakes her head, but a distant look enters her eyes. And suddenly I think I understand, not fully- but in part. That this has to do with my dad. “The day I met your father, I was wearing plum lipstick...” She smiles, her eyes watering. “I vowed to myself that I'd try to be the woman he met that day, always. I know I'm not. I know I've changed. But I kept this one thing the same, so maybe he'd remember the girl he fell in love with.”

  My heart is pricked with a needle and I lay a hand on my mother's wrist, hating that I've rebuked her for this in the past.

  “Anyway, your man. Shall I fetch him?” Her composure returns in a wave, her spine straightening.

  I frown at her. “I thought you weren't keen on Ethan.”

  “That was before he saved my baby girl. And a little birdy told me he's an ex-soldier.”

  I roll my eyes but a giggle escapes me.

  I'm hit with a jolt as I realise she wouldn't be singing his praises if she knew that he'd been stalking me for the past six months.

  I feel conflicted so do what I always do, and trust my gut. “Send him in.”

  When he arrives, Mum leaves us to it. His arms are smothered in ash, his face smudged with it too. But miraculously, there's not a burn mark on him.

  His eyes are dark as he approaches, his expression bleak and lost.

  Oh, my poor lost man.

  My heart swells and swells as he draws closer, occupying the seat Mum vacated.

  “How are you?” His voice is scratchy from the smoke.

  I reach out, touching his hand, winding my fingers into his. He gazes down at our entwined hands, looking surprised.

  “I'm fine.” I give him a smile, my eyes filling with tears. They pool in my vision, obscuring him from view.

  “Lise...” he says softly, his voice rea
ching into my heart and wrapping around it.

  “Ethan,” I sob, sitting up, opening my arms.

  He slips into them and the smell of smoke surrounds me from his hair, his clothes. His arms encircle my waist, hugging me tight.

  “I'm so sorry this happened,” he whispers and I clutch onto him, the tears flowing freely down my cheeks.

  It's finally sinking in and I feel completely overwhelmed.

  “You're okay,” he reassures me and I believe him.

  Leaning back an inch, I blink away the tears and, as they clear, find his eyes boring into mine. I inhale a small gasp, captivated by his stormy grey irises, swimming with so much love, it makes my heart hurt.

  “I love you,” the words slip from my lips and he leans in, kissing me softly.

  “Why?” he says against my mouth, his voice strained.

  “For a hundred reasons,” I murmur, kissing him again, the saltiness of my own tears sliding onto my tongue.

  “Clarissa said I can't love.”

  I jerk away at his words, hurt by them. “She's wrong.”

  He continues, taking my hand and brushing my knuckles over his lips. “I think she was right...at first anyway. When I used to watch you, I don't think that was love, it was infatuation. But now I know you...truly know you.” He looks deep into my eyes, making my heart soar. “I don't know what else to call it.”

  ⊱✿ ✿⊰

  “Dominant?” I spit, reading the newspaper article about the events that transpired the other night. “She's a sadist not a fucking dominant.”

  Ethan takes the paper from my hand, dropping down onto the bed beside me, tending to the burns on my legs. I refused to stay in hospital longer than a day. I couldn't bear the place, not since I lost my father. It's all I was reminded of. And with everything that's happened, I couldn't handle that too.

  “Don't read that. We know the truth. That's all that matters.”

  “I just wish they'd get their facts right.”

  Ethan places his finger on my lips.“Don't think about it. Who cares what they say about her?”

  I move backwards out of his touch. “They're glorifying her, making her out to be some manipulative genius. But she was pathetic, taking out her pain on other people.” I shake my head, rage coursing through me.

  I'm distracted as Ethan changes a dressing on my calf, the salve stinging as he rubs it in.

  “That poor guy she had in her basement...Christ.” I run a hand into my hair and Ethan touches my cheek.

  “He'll be fine. He's getting the help he needs. Please stop internalising all of this.”

  I break a small smile. “Coming from you,” I tease.

  He grins, his eyes locking with mine. It's the most beautiful smile I've ever seen, tugging at my heart strings. Somehow since the fire, Ethan's been...better. Not without trouble or pain, but like some of the weight on his shoulders has lifted. And he actually looks me in the eye. It's unbelievable really, what it took to help him. But the inner workings of peoples' minds is a mysterious thing.

  “Nick gave his story, look.” I point out, snatching up the paper again and frowning. I glance through it, shaking my head. “He said she's had him down there for a whole year. How is that even possible?”

  Ethan looks grave, shrugging as he finishes putting the last dressing on my thigh. His fingers tingle where they touch and I place the newspaper firmly down.

  “At least she'll be locked up in prison before long. Then she'll learn how he felt,” Ethan mutters.

  I nod, but I'm not really listening, leaning in and stealing a precious kiss. It lasts forever, his tongue slow on mine, his hands travelling up my waist.

  “What do we do now, huh?” he says in a low voice, his eyes trailing over my throat.

  “Look for jobs?” I tease and he squeezes my sides, making me squeal.

  “Yeah, maybe I should take Paul up on that offer...”

  I shrug, smiling at him, feeling gloriously dizzy. “I think we deserve at least a week off to decide.” I bury my nose in his shoulder, breathing him in.

  “At least,” he agrees, laying a soft kiss in my hair.

  ETHAN

  A year to the day that Clarissa tried to destroy us, and I'm sitting in a hospital again, holding Annalise's hand just like I was that day.

  “Do you want to know the sex?” the doctor turns to us but I can't draw my eyes from the screen opposite, watching the black and white image of my child. Our child.

  I gaze, transfixed, lost to one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. And I know my obsessive tendencies aren't gone forever. But now I'm fixated on this little life. And I'll never let anything bad happen to them.

  “Yes, we'd like to know,” Annalise says, squeezing my fingers.

  She's glowing with the pregnancy, like she was made for this her whole life. Made for me.

  Libby and Paul have been a godsend throughout this whole thing. Neither of us knew what we were doing. All I knew is that I wanted to start a new life with Annalise, my beautiful wife. I didn't realise there was so much to learn, so much to prepare for. But I know we can do it, especially now I'm looking at our child, it suddenly seems so easy.

  Kat's been helpful too, and since Eric broke up with her I've seen a side to her I'm growing to like. I think she needed to be knocked down a peg or two. There's even a guy I work with, one of the guards, Annalise is pushing me to set her up with. He's as outgoing as she is so maybe it'd be a good match, I don't know.

  I think of my father and the dull ache of his voice whispers in my ear. It's not strong now, not like it used to be. Annalise has taught me how to deal with it. For every nasty word in my head, I have to counter it with something good. She even made a whole list of words for me to use, telling me in absolute earnest that each one of them was true. It was the most overwhelming thing I'd ever read and it took me a long time to start believing it.

  But a year on and his voice hardly effects me. Creeping into my mind only when I'm feeling particularity exhausted or anxious.

  “It's a boy,” the doctor reveals, beaming, her eyes sparkling.

  My chest swells with pride and I lean in, kissing Annalise on the cheek. She grips my hand so tight, speaking of her happiness, her pride, her fear of the unknown. I feel it in my bones, too. But I know together we'll work it out.

  Good for nothing.

  I shut my eyes to block out the voice, using the technique and countering it with positive thoughts of my own. And there's one beautiful, defining characteristic I know I possess. I know from the depths of my soul, that I will never treat a child like he treated me.

  Loving father.

  Adoring husband.

  Good for something.

  CONTINUE READING FOR A SNEAK PEEK AT THE FIRST BOOK IN THE DARKER SIDE OF CANE SERIES – AN AMAZON BESTSELLER!

  ***

  DIRTY DARK DECEIT

  (A Dirty Dark Standalone)

  OUT SOON!

  ***

  WANT TO BE THE FIRST TO KNOW WHEN THE NEXT BOOK IS OUT?

  Why not join my VIP mailing list and I'll personally send you an email reminder as soon as it's released (I promise never to send you spam)

  Join here:

  http://bit.ly/2fIvc2A

  For giveaways, sneak peeks, ARCs, freebies like me on FACEBOOK:

  https://www.facebook.com/laceyalpha/

  Follow me on GOODREADS:

  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16046055.Lacey_Alpha

  Visit my WEBSITE:

  http://www.laceyalpha.wordpress.com

  DO YOU WANT TO BE PART OF MY 'DREAM TEAM'?

  WANT TO BE THE FIRST TO RECIEVE ARCs AND BE PART OF A COMMUNITY WORKING TOGETHER TO SPREAD THE WORD ABOUT MY BOOKS?

  As a member of the Dream Team you'll get:

  A free advance copy of all future Lacey Alpha books

  Access to a private Facebook group where you'll connect with other super fans and be involved in discussions about the books and their promotion

  The
opportunity to give feedback on covers, prices and more

  A special "thank you" in the 'acknowledgements' within the books themselves

  The opportunity to shout and rave about the books you love and say you were the first to read them if I ever get famous (ha.ha)

  In return, I'll ask for:

  An honest review on Amazon for each new book

  Any promotional ideas you might have to help build hype around the books

  Your help spreading the word about the books on various social media sites

  Interested in joining? Just email me at: laceyalphabooks@gmail.com

  Thanks for being a loyal fan of the series!

  Love Lacey xo

  The Darker Side of Cane

  By

  LACEY ALPHA

  1

  I'm in way over my head. I should not have accepted this assignment. But what's an intern with zero income to do? I'll never get ahead in journalism if I refuse the first real work I've been given.

  My boss, Jody Briggs (the woman takes the title of boss way too literally), asked me to do an article on online dating. I've been given the task of finding out whether it's worth it or not. Oh, and not to mention the 'no sex until the third date' rule. But that was the problem. The big, blazing billboard screaming at me in my head for why I could not possibly take on this assignment: I'm a virgin.

  Yes, a twenty one year old virgin who somehow managed to make it through university without losing it.

  I mean, this is London for Christ's sake. Nearly nine million people live here and I can't find one special guy amongst them to...well...scratch that particular itch.

  So I smiled at Jody Briggs, lying through my teeth that this assignment was 'right up my street!'.

  Well done, Evelyn Ash. They'll never print this article if I don't produce something heartfelt and edgy. That's what Missy Magazine is all about; women wanting real advice on finding love, gritty details included. I'm just about the worst person they could have chosen: the twenty one year old virgin who's never been in love.