by Lilly Atlas
Contents
Copyright
Title Page
Note
Blurb
Dedication
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
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
Author Note
Striker Preview
About the author
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Copyright © 2018 Lilly Atlas
All rights reserved.
Lilly Atlas Books LLC
ESCAPADES
Trident Ink Book 1
Lilly Atlas
Thank you so much for reading Escapades. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads.
Other books by Lilly Atlas
No Prisoners MC Sereis
Hook: A No Prisoners Novella
Striker
Jester
Acer
Lucky
Snake
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Alyssa Jackson is one of the lucky ones. She has a thriving business, great friends, a devoted husband, an adorable daughter, and a scorching hot sex life that would be the envy of any married couple. Then, one tragic loss flips her world upside down. Floundering and unsure of how to cope with their grief, Alyssa and her husband drift apart until they are living as roommates instead of a deeply connected couple. Alyssa will do anything to get the intense passion back into her life and marriage, no matter how far out of the box she has to step.
If there is one thing tattoo shop owner Derek knows, it’s that once he set his sights on his wife, he never wanted another woman. Years together haven’t begun to put a dent in his desire for her. But everything falls apart when the anguish of loss barges into their lives. Adrift in his own suffering, Derek doesn’t realize how damaged his marriage is until his wife forces him to confront their issues. Now, he’ll do whatever it takes to get their lives back on track, even if the plan seems outrageous.
For Sam.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your love, support, and assistance. But mostly for your spreadsheets.
Chapter One
Beautiful didn’t come close to capturing the woman waiting for him at a cozy two-person table in the most romantic restaurant in town.
Stunning. Alluring. Captivating. Breathtaking. Sexy as fuck. And the adjectives just grew more X-rated from there.
Really, she was just gorgeous, plain and simple, with her hypnotic blue eyes and golden blond hair flowing down her back in stylish waves. Damn, he was a sucker for blondes. Always had been. And the longer the hair, the better.
There wasn’t much that topped wrapping long silky strands of feminine hair around his fist and tipping his woman’s head back, exposing her delicate neck as he plunged in and out of her tight body. Perfect opportunity to feast on the exposed skin of her throat. She would moan and arch into him—
Shit.
Derek’s cock began to fill despite the fact he was standing outside a restaurant in the chilly November evening.
Well, really, what did it matter if he was aroused beyond reason?
This entire date was a prelude to sex. First order of business was to walk in and make nice. Flash charming smiles. Be charismatic and witty during the meal. Then leave together and find a secluded place to fuck each other’s brains out.
So, what did it matter if he was hard now? His date knew the drill. Hell, this entire charade was her idea to begin with.
He blew out a harsh breath, fogging the restaurant’s front window with the warmth of his exhalation. Time to go in. He’d stalled long enough. For some reason, a brick of nervousness had settled in his stomach the moment he spotted the expensive Georgetown restaurant.
The promise of sex wasn’t what made him nervous. In fact, the opposite was true. Sex was something he was pretty damned certain he excelled at. Excelled at and loved.
So, why the unease? Christ, he’d faced down terrorists for years as a SEAL. He’d spent years in life-threatening situations without so much as blinking. And now he was afraid?
Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that for the past two years—shit, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around that insane span of time—the only thing to come into contact with his dick was the palm and five fingers of his right hand. And maybe the left a time or two.
To think of all he’d taken for granted. The months he’d lost due to…what? How he’d allowed this to happen was still a giant mystery. One he needed to spend some serious time and brain power solving. It was the only way to fix it. To ensure it never happened again. No matter what life threw at him. No matter how deep the pain cut, how suffocating the grief became, he could not neglect this part of his life again. Could not neglect her again.
Next to him, a loud throat cleared, causing him to flinch. “Excuse me, sir?” The maître d’ stood just three feet away, bouncing on the balls of his feet, no doubt to keep warm blood pulsing through his veins.
“Yes?”
“That lovely young woman in there you seem to be staring at through the window claims you may be here to join her.” A cloud of steam drifted from his mouth as he spoke. His smile was questioning, like he was dying to ask why the hell Derek was standing outside freezing his ass off while a smoking hot woman waited for him inside.
How long had he been staring at the breath-fogged pane without actually seeing anything? He wiped a gloved hand through the cloudy condensation. Sure enough, clear blue eyes with a hint of mischief met his. She offered a half smile as one light eyebrow rose in question as if to ask, “You coming any time soon?”
Sooner than she knew if she kept looking at him like she was starving, and he was the only thing that could satisfy her hunger. It had been a long time since she’d looked at him like that.
“Yes. I’m here for her.” The words were gruffer than he’d meant them to be but the idea of another man, any man, admiring his date was unacceptable. He’d always been a bit of a possessive beast. Not in a controlling and creepy way, but he sure as hell didn’t share.
“Excellent, sir.” The maître d’ held the door and permitted Derek to pass into the restaurant. “Allow me to escort you to your table.”
“Thank you,” Derek said, his gaze riveted on his date. He was so captivated by her he nearly missed the ambiance of the restaurant. Low lighting and flickering candles gave the upscale steakhouse a romantic vibe. The place wasn’t exactly his style. He’d always been more of a beer and wings kind of guy, but he could play the part of a classy gentleman for a few hours. Especially if the gig bought him a non-self-induced orgasm.
Garlic, peppered beef, and the aroma of expensive wine blended together, making his mouth water for more than just a taste of the woman waiting for him.
“Here
we are, sir.” The maître d’ pulled out a sturdy wooden chair with one hand and extended a menu with the other.
“Thank you,” Derek said. It was as much a dismissal as an expression of gratitude. He wanted, needed, a few minutes alone with his date before being interrupted by restaurant staff.
“Hi,” she said. Her eyes glowed with genuine pleasure and a radiant smile spread across her face. He missed that smile. Missed it like he’d miss oxygen. “Glad you finally decided to join me.”
“Hello, Kristin,” he said, not missing the twitch of her lips when he said the name.
“Jake,” she replied with a sassy smile.
He answered her mirth with a chuckle of his own. But he’d agreed to play the game from the get-go. No real names. Pure fantasy for one night. A chance for them to lose themselves in a sexual escapade devoid of past pain, baggage, and heartache.
“Not joining you was never an option, gorgeous. I just saw you through the window and couldn’t tear myself away from the view.”
“You’re sweet.” She flushed as though unaccustomed to compliments. Damn shame. A woman like her deserved to hear it daily. The man in her life must be such a fool—guilt churned in his stomach at the thought that he was that fool.
He shook it off. “What are you drinking?”
She lifted the wineglass to her glossy coral lips and took a delicate sip. “It’s a Spanish Rioja. Delicious.” A tiny purple drop remained on her plump lower lip.
Derek couldn’t help it. As though on autopilot, he reached across the small table and captured the bead with his thumb. With his eyes on hers, he brought his finger to his mouth and licked. “You’re right. Delicious.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed, and a pink flush that had nothing to do with the warmth radiating from a nearby fireplace coated her skin. It was desire, hot, passionate, and more intoxicating than the wine.
There was no way in hell his body wasn’t going to respond in kind. Blood rushed to his cock so fast the immediate stiffening was almost painful.
The air between them and surrounding their table popped and crackled with electricity. If it was up to him, they’d skip the meal entirely and find a quiet place where he could peel her out of that slinky black dress hugging her body in the most sinful way. But, this was her show, so he’d stick it out through the first act, but not much more than that.
“So,” he said, settling into his seat, resigned to the fact that the meal would be spent with an iron rod between his legs. “Tell me about your week.” As he spoke, he rolled the sleeves of his royal blue dress shirt to just below his elbows. Their proximity to the fireplace had him a bit overheated.
Or maybe it was just the proximity to his date.
Her gaze was fixed on his forearms and her eyes flared as each colorful inch of inked skin was revealed. “Well,” she said her voice husky, “I’ve been out of work for a while due to…difficult circumstances and I just recently went back.”
The breath seized in his lungs and he stalled his movement. How did he not know she’d just gone back to work? Was his head really that far up his own ass?
Difficult circumstances.
He almost snorted out loud. That was quite a benign way to describe what she’d been through over the past couple years. What they’d both been through. But tonight wasn’t about wallowing in the agony of the past. It was about forging forward, connecting, pleasing one another.
“How did it go? Your first day?” His voice was hardly above a whisper. Deep emotions pummeled him from all directions as he looked straight into her slightly sad eyes. Emotions seeking to destroy the thick wall he’d erected over the past two years. Emotions he hadn’t allowed himself to feel and still didn’t want to deal with because they were guaranteed to bring an off-the-charts level of pain.
Her entire face lit up. “It was wonderful. Scary, exciting, fulfilling…really, really good.”
Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Derek found himself shedding the dark mood from seconds before. Later that night, when he was alone, he’d allow himself to finally feel. To face the demons chasing him. For the moment, and for the rest of his date, he’d focus solely on the amazing woman dining with him.
She was what was important. Too bad it had taken him so long to remember that.
Chapter Two
“So…Jake, what looks good to you?” Kristin asked as she opened her menu.
“You look pretty damn good.” It was hard not to laugh at her playful use of the evening’s pseudonym. He wanted to hear his real name fall off her lips, particularly later when she was crying out in ecstasy from the orgasms he’d give her. But the more he contemplated, he realized the plan had been smart all along.
The sense of anonymity that accompanied the use of an alias was freeing. It allowed him to fully sink into the role of a man without a history. He could pretend the past few years never existed, if only for a few hours, and that’s exactly what was necessary to pull himself out of the sucking vortex of quicksand his life had a become.
She laughed, the sound full-bodied and vibrant, doing nothing to kill his arousal. “I meant from the menu. Not that you don’t look edible yourself. I like that color blue on you. Her smile was radiant. The smile of a woman who was truly content in the moment.
He’d worn black slacks and a gray tie with his royal blue button up shirt. It took a lot to get him out of his uniform of T-shirts and jeans and into anything resembling formal wear. But he’d do damn near anything for more of those smiles.
Conversation flowed easily after that. Derek ordered a medium rare NY strip steak and a potato with all the fixings while Kristin requested a petite filet with a side of steamed spinach. They laughed, flirted, and drank another glass of wine before polishing off the meal. Once the plates had been cleared, there wasn’t anything holding them back from what they both really wanted from the evening.
Her hot gaze connected with his. She was a small woman, though not a twig, and it was obvious two generous glasses of wine had relaxed her. She didn’t appear drunk, just…happy, with relaxed shoulders, a constant smile, and twinkling eyes.
“Well, that was delicious. Thank you, Jake,” she said as the waiter returned his credit card and receipt.
“My pleasure.” Not yet, but it damn sure would be soon enough. Both of their pleasures, actually. Hers a few more times than his if all went according to plan.
“How’d you get here?” she asked, rimming the lip of her empty wineglass with a fingertip.
He kept his eyes glued to the motion, imagining that one finger trailing across his naked skin in a fiery path. “What? Oh, I drove.” The ability to concentrate was flying out the window. If they didn’t leave soon he just might lunge across the table and ravish her on the restaurant floor.
“Do you have a large car?” Her smile grew impish.
What was she up to? She knew damn well he drove an Escalade. “I do.”
She rose from the table and he got his first view of her entire outfit. The black dress was simple, yet clung to her curves and highlighted everything he liked best about this woman’s body. The deep V-neck showed off a moderate amount of cleavage, just enough to have him imagining how her breasts would quiver when he ran his tongue across the top of the mounds. The hemline stopped shy of midway down her thighs and damn if his hands didn’t twitch with the desire to smooth their way up the silky skin that disappeared under the tight skirt.
With slow, sultry steps, she came around to his side of the table and leaned down until she was level with his ear. “Then maybe we should test out just how roomy the back seat is.”
As she returned to her full height of only five-foot-four plus a few bonus inches due to heels, Derek gave in to the overwhelming temptation and slid his large hand around the back of her knee. His fingers weren’t soft, but despite the calluses, he felt just how velvety her skin was. He coasted his hand up the back of her thigh until it disappeared under her skirt. But he didn’t stop there. Higher and higher he went. Indecen
tly high, maintaining eye contact the entire time.
His thumb brushed the underside of her rounded ass as his fingers encountered a tiny swatch of fabric covering her opening. Her very hot, very wet opening.
“Jesus,” he whispered at the same time she let out a small gasp.
“Please, Jake.” A light shade of pink stole across her face. A mixture of desire and bashfulness due to the public display. A contradiction that drew him to her right off the bat. Intense sensuality combined with a private, almost shy nature.
“What is it you want, Al—um, Kristin?” Shit. He’d stumbled over her fake name. Would she notice? Would it bring reality back to the encounter and end the game?
“I want you to fuck me.” Her voice was low in deference to other customers. He almost laughed out loud. Like it mattered at this point. Sure, their table was in the back corner of the restaurant, but she was standing with his hand buried under her dress, coating his fingers with her arousal. Modesty had died a quick death.
He was so hard, he wasn’t entirely certain he’d be able to get up and walk out of the restaurant without hobbling. A knowing glint shone in her eyes, as though she was well aware of his predicament and found it amusing. “Well?” she asked, teasing in her voice.
Two could play this game. He withdrew his hand from its warm prison between her thighs, brought a finger to his mouth, and licked the tip. Her eyes flared, and her breath hitched. “Damnit, D—Jake. No more playing. Please take me out of here. I need your hands on me, all over me.”
That was about all of the teasing Derek could handle as well. He stood, shoving his chair back so hard it teetered on its hind legs, and grabbed Kristin’s hand. Halfway to the exit, his brain cleared enough to realize he was all but dragging her through the restaurant. “Sorry,” he mumbled as he slowed and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
