by Nana Malone
He reached over to the bedside table, and pulled out the small velvet box. And then maneuvered himself so that he was on one knee on the bed. “Sophie, I don’t even know my life began really when I met you. The year after that, you haunted my dreams. I couldn’t quite get you out of them. And then when I realized you were my neighbor, you dug in and took hold. I’ve never loved anyone more than I love you in this moment and every moment. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
Sophie clasped her hands over her mouth. And then her eyes welled with tears. When she dropped her hands, she stared at him. “Nathan! Oh my God! Oh my God!”
His lips tipped into a smirk. “You still haven’t said the right word, sweetheart. You’re making me rather nervous.” And then he realized he hadn’t actually opened the box to show her the ring.
Would she like it? When he started to open it, he said, “Well maybe I should show you this first.”
She grabbed the box from him and slammed it shut. “I don’t want to see it. It could be a piece of cardboard for all I care, I just want you. The best moments I’ve had in the last year and a half had been just like this, in your arms. Talking, and watching movies, and eating popcorn, and hanging out. I don’t want anything else. Just you.”
Nathan wrapped an arm around her and pulled her up against him. “Is that so? So, you’re telling me you don’t want this ring that I painstakingly picked just for you?”
She laughed. “Well, I don’t need it. But since you went through all that effort, maybe I should just see it.”
Nathan laughed. “Happy to oblige.” When he lifted the velvet box she gasped. “Oh Nathan, it’s perfect.”
He could have gone gaudy and ostentatious. After all, that was sort of his style. But for Sophie, he wanted a very simple statement. And so, the band was ultra-thin with very tiny diamonds circling it, with a brilliant cut solitaire sat on top. He showed remarkable restraint giving her a ring that was only two karats. Because there had been this five karat one that he wanted but he figured Sophie would be ticked off with him if he got her that one. At least this one she could wear in public. It didn’t matter though. She was right. As long as they were together everything was perfect. “So, will you marry me then?”
She nodded. “You better believe I will.”
Nathan pulled the ring from the confines of the box and then delicately placed it on her finger. It was a perfect fit. Just like the two of them.
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Blurb:
Just call him a rule breaker…
Zephyr Donovan knew the sacred rule. Never date a student. With the demons in his past, all he wanted was a fresh start. He wasn’t looking for trouble. But trouble tasted so damn good.
There are reasons for the rules…
Malia Adams had a complicated life. Well, actually it was pretty simple. Survive. Stay off the streets by any means necessary. And that was a nightly struggle. She didn’t have time to get involved with anyone.
Especially not the one person she can’t have.
All he needs to do is stay away. All she needs to do is forget him. Too bad that was all easier said than done.
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Read London Calling…
Pussy came easy…
But then, for photographer, Xander Chase, most things came easy…except love. His portraits are renowned for revealing the heart and soul of his subjects, yet, he keeps his own heart hidden behind a playboy facade. All he cares about is revenge, and for that, he needs a stand-in girlfriend for a weekend fling.
Struggling actress, Imani Brooks, has been offered the coveted role of a lifetime…playing the part of an escort in a renowned play. When Xander proposes a weekend of research in Paris, she jumps at the chance. Their pretend relationship is the perfect way to dig into her role. She just has to remember that what they have is only for show. Everything goes as planned until passion erupts and blurs the line between fiction and reality. Can Imani get past the walls Xander’s built around his heart and find the real man hidden behind the camera lens?
One
Pussy came easy. But then, for Xander Chase, most things came easy.
As he slid a glance over the lithe, naked back of the blonde in front of him and he locked his teeth, he wished some things came easier than others. It didn't matter how much his balls ached or how much sweat dripped off his brow, there’d be no relief for him, no matter how many times he had her.
As she moaned, writhed, and shouted things that were dirty enough to make any porn star blush, he fought to stay focused. She was a means to an end. Unfortunately for him, that end wasn’t pleasure. More like revenge. She had information he needed. And she, like half the women in London, was susceptible to the Chase charm.
She screamed through her orgasm and Xander just wanted it to be over. A means to an end. And also, she was Alistair’s wife. Screwing her was one more domino on his way to taking down the man he hated.
His brain did him the favor of replaying the night over and over and over again. Every decision he’d made. Every step that had led him here. How well she’d sucked his cock on the way to Notting Hill. The slide of her tongue over the length of him as he spun his Huyra over the rain-slick streets of London. The feel of her pussy milking his cock. Her brazen offer for him to have her any way he wanted.
But he had zero desire to come. And no amount of fucking this nearly nameless, faceless blonde would solve that. After today, he’d barely remember her. Hell, he could barely remember her name as it was. Gemma? Jemima? Julia? Something J-sounding. Bugger, he really did have to get better with names. But he would remember whose wife she was.
He pulled away from her and she made a half-hearted, feeble attempt to reach for him. Who was she kidding? That was orgasm number four for her. She’d be out cold in seconds.
He slid the satin sheet over her naked form and sat on the edge of his bed. His dick twitched as if to remind him of how he got into this mess in the first place. He scrubbed a hand down his face. He sat there for several minutes until her deep, even breathing alerted him to her slumber. Right. Time to go to work. He tugged on his boxer briefs and slipped into the living room where she’d dropped her bag.
He made sure he kept an eye on the bedroom door as he booted up her laptop. Thanks to one tequila too many, and his very skilled hands working their magic under her panties, she’d told him everything he needed to know to take a decent stab at her password. He got it on the third try. Cat’s name. He didn't bother to roll his eyes.
When he was done copying all the files to his external hard drive, he shut down her computer and slid it back into her bag before silently stalking back into the bedroom. She was still knocked out, but the sheet had shifted slightly, exposing her bare arse. Fuck. Maybe he should have taken her up on her offer to fuck her however he wanted.
He scowled at his straining erection. His cock begged him to go back to bed. To give it another go in the hopes that this time would be different. That she would be different. But he knew better. What was the definition of insanity again? No point in going back to it, mate, it won’t do any good.
There was only one way to relieve the gnawing, clawing hunger. But knowing the solution didn’t mean he wanted to go through with it. Get in the shower. Release the tension. Then call the cleaning crew to deal with the unwanted guest. Most importantly ignore that niggling thought at the back of his skull. That tiny voice telling him the kind of man he was. Telling him that inside, he was beyond buggered. Truly fucked up and there’d be no respite for him. This was his personal hell.
He didn't bother to tiptoe into his spacious bathroom. Not that she’d wake up anytime soon. He avoided the mirror and stepped into the shower, blasting on the hot water, and letting the piercing pellets from multiple sprays scorch his skin. In a long-practiced move, he reached for the shower gel, us
ing just enough to coat his hands, then he stroked himself.
A harsh groan tore from his throat on contact. So bleeding good. He focused on the memories of the woman in his bed. The gentle, yet suggestive smile as she’d brushed up against him. That was always his favorite part. The possibility of something great.
Of course, it was never great. At this point, he doubted he’d know an epic shag if it came up and bit him on the arse. But he kept repeating the same patterns over and over again. What was the definition of insanity again?
It didn’t help that, thanks to the Chase name, the royal connections, and his face, woman after woman happily climbed into his bed.
But the end result was always the same. He was dead inside. Xander’s balls ached as he stroked himself, his palm smoothing over the flared tip. He hissed in a pleasured pain at the friction. So…on edge…almost… Just needed…
His release hit him with the force of a tank and he shook violently as stream after stream of come shot out of him. He clamped his jaw tight, unwilling to cry out his release.
As soon as it was over, he did what he always did and turned the water as cold as he could stand it. Then let his body slide down to the tiled bench seat as the self-loathing seeped into his pores.
There had to be a better way. He would only survive so much more before he became irrevocably broken. Maybe it was already too late for that.
Xander's heart thundered with each step and he fought to control his labored breathing. The more he pushed, the more everything burned: his lungs, his chest, the muscles in his thighs, his overly taut calf muscles. In contrast, next to him, his brother seemed completely unbothered as they pushed the pace of their run.
With the spirit of competition riding him, but more the need to outrun his demons, Xander pushed harder, forcing his legs into a faster turn over. Next to him, Lex matched his pace, but his breathing hitched and Xander smirked. The way he saw it, they both had some demons to outrun.
Despite his hoodie, the chill of the morning settled into his bones. Or maybe that was still the slithering stench of self-loathing. He’d left the J-blonde in his bed. If she was still there, the cleaning crew would arrive soon enough to help her along her way. And even if she tried to wait for him, she’d soon realize he wasn’t coming back. Not anytime soon anyway. He didn’t live there.
That flat was strictly for sex and for women he had no intention of ever seeing again. There was no way he was bringing anybody to where he actually lived. He didn’t need this feeling permeating into his real life. It’s already here. Separation of fucking and life and never the twain shall meet.
He had far too much riding on his goals. It was time he got serious. He couldn't afford to get distracted. At least that’s what he told himself as he forced his legs to turn over.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a woman bundled against the chill of the morning, pushing a baby pram while she jogged. Her chocolaty complexion reminded him of the one woman he shouldn’t want and couldn’t have. Instinctively he turned to get a better look.
That brief break in concentration tripped him up. Literally. He went arse over teakettle on the grassy trail, forcing Lex to jump out of the way.
Through labored breathing, his brother leaned down and offered a hand. "All right, Xan?"
He glared up at the hand offered and scowled. He wanted to take it, he really did, but he'd punished his body and the prone position was feeling far too comfortable at the moment. He didn’t stand. "Fine."
Lex dropped smoothly to his side in the dewy grass. "Glad to hear it. Now maybe you can tell me why we're in Olympic training."
"What's the matter, my pace too fast for you?" He deflected immediately. Lex was too adept at seeing through him. They'd been through too much together.
"I kept up, didn't I?" With a sigh, Lex tried a different tactic. "Sorry. My mind's just on the purchase of Trident Media stock. I need everything to go right. It’s got me edgy."
Lex nodded and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I understand. Though, if it’s causing this level of stress, maybe we shouldn’t be doing this."
Xander watched his brother from the corner of his eye. There was no mistaking they were brothers from their tall, lean frames to their facial features to their coloring. And their silvery-gray eyes. Only Lex’s hair was inky and dark and Xander still sported the dirty-blond hair he'd had as a child. But some days their personalities were so far on opposite ends of the scale he wondered how they could be brothers. "Didn't we already cover this territory?" For months since Xander had told him the plan, Lex had tried to talk him out of it. "You don't think that fucking twat deserves to pay for what he did?"
“Of course I do. You know what happened on those stairs that night. But this plan of yours, it’s eating at you, Xan. Corroding you from the inside. You’ve been edgy and snappish, even to Abbie, who you normally think walks on water.”
Xander winced at the mention of her name again. Abbie Nartey shouldn’t have meant anything to him, considering she was his brother’s girlfriend. But from the moment she’d become his student, he’d had a soft spot for her. Make that a very hard—never mind. She was the reason his brother smiled again. And she was his student. He’d put aside the feelings he had for her a long time ago. Mostly.
“I’m not exactly the warm, soothing, agony aunt. She knew that about me when she took the job.” And normally, she gave him as good as she got. But Lex was right. Even he knew his mood swings were a special kind of toxic.
"This is what I want, Lex. I need to do this. Then I can walk away. Start fresh. I can't let him walk around like he owes us nothing. He could have stopped the abuse at any time and he didn’t. He could have told someone and he didn’t. And he could have admitted the truth and he didn't." What he didn't say out loud to his brother was the secret shame he carried. He didn't have to hold me down for his father, but he did.
No. They’d continue with the plan. Alistair McMahon’s company, Trident Media Group had been financially backsliding for some time and they’d been selling off chunks of stock to recoup their losses. Stock he and Lex had been purchasing through various companies. For now they were holding on to them, but when all his ducks were lined up in a row, the two of them would have enough shares to dismantle Trident brick by bloody brick. And thanks to the information from J-girl’s laptop, he might have something big enough to destroy him for good. “I have the information we talked about.”
Lex shook his head. “Do I even want to know how you came about it?”
“Nope.”
“Xan, this is a dangerous game.”
“Go on with the stock purchase. I’ve got Garett working on the data. If there’s anything on her computer we can use, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, I’ll work on phase two.”
Phase two was more difficult. Alistair McMahon sat on the board of London’s Artistic Trust. Xander had to get himself on that board to topple all of his dominos for a more effective blow. But getting on the board was easier said than done.
His brother studied him as if he could divine the truth out of him, then eventually sighed. "Okay, you want to continue this grueling pace or you had enough?"
Xander pushed himself to a standing position. "We can take it easy heading back."
Lex smirked and bounced up next to him. Xander wanted to curse his brother's energy. Right now his legs felt like lead weights. That’s what happens when you try to outrun demons. "Who said I needed to take it easy?"
“Of course, you don’t.”
He tried to stand, but he groaned instead. “On second thought, I still have some kinks to work out.”
“I’m proposing to Abbie." It was blurted out in a rush and Lex flushed red as he said it.
For several long moments, Xander couldn't compute the pain that radiated through his chest or the words that caused the piercing headache in his skull. But slowly, the words started to piece together. Propose. Abbie.
That was it. In that moment, he knew what he had to do. He'd
shut the door ages ago on anything ever happening with Abbie, but a piece of him hadn’t let her go. Though it was less about her and more about what she represented. But she was all Lex's now.
The guilt was quickly overshadowed by joy. He might be in excruciating, radiating pain, but Lex looked happy. The kind of happy that people could only experience when they had nothing holding them back.
He let that joy from his brother fill him and drown out the guilt and the remnant pain. Pulling his brother to him, he hugged Lex hard. While he embraced him, he blinked away the stinging in his eyes. He could be happy for Lex. If anyone deserved that kind of happiness, it was his brother.
There was no point in feeling any loss for himself. It wasn’t his moment. "Mate, I'm so happy for you." Lex hugged him back. And they stood there in the middle of the park embracing each other. When they pulled back, they both ignored the other's misty gazes.
Fuck, why couldn’t he rid himself of the impending tears? "Good for you. Now you tell Nick that he may be your best mate and all, but I’m the one standing next to you on the big day."
Lex used his t-shirt to wipe his face. "Well let's get her to say yes first, shall we?"
"Let's face it, she's nutters about you. She’ll say yes." And somehow he'd have to figure out how to deal with that.
His brother licked his lips. “You’re okay, though?”
“I’m bloody brilliant. I’m about to get a sister.”
Two
Imani Brooks hustled along Savoy Way, clutching her bag to her side, desperately trying to fit her whole body under the minuscule umbrella.
This was what she got for forgetting hers at home and having to grab one from the corner shop. Number one rule of living in London, always bring a freaking umbrella.
Tilting her head back, she tried to determine how much farther she had to go to reach the Savoy. Of course, the moment she did, rain pelted her face with sharp, stinging pellets.
