The Forsaken Saga Complete Box Set (Books 1-4)

by Sophia Sharp

  I know I’m not alone in that fear. Some girls vow to be celibate. I don’t want that. But, I don’t want to jump in headfirst and start having meaningless, anonymous sex over and over again.

  I’m not like that. Sex is equated to the greatest form of intimacy in my mind. I can’t imagine anything more special to share with someone.

  I shake my head. Nineteen years old, and practically a virgin? Well, maybe not technically, I don’t think the catastrophe in boarding school should count.

  Worse, I’m not even sure my reasons for abstaining since then are my own.

  Maybe Katy’s right. Maybe I do need to loosen up.

  This is college, for crying out loud. I left my old life behind when I came here. It’s not too late to reinvent myself.

  I stand up, feeling a new determination come over me. If I want to reinvent myself, the first thing to do is get over my fear of intimacy.

  That means having sex.

  I hate the way my past still holds sway over me. I want to deny it that power, but I can’t. Pretending a certain portion of your life never happened will only get you so far.

  The only way to move forward is to take concrete steps toward it. Concrete, physical steps.

  And today… today is the perfect opportunity to start Operation New Me. Today, Spencer is picking me up. Who better to help me blast through my fears?

  He can say whatever he wants, but I know, deep down, that he’s only interested in me for one thing.

  Maybe, for once, we’ll both be on the same page.

  I smile to myself as I walk to the bedroom closet. I’ll need the proper outfit if I’m going to get what I want from Spencer tonight.

  ***

  I walk out the doors of my dorm and fill my lungs with the crisp autumn air. The leaves are starting to fall, clearing the branches for winter. It feels like the perfect time for a new beginning. Change isn’t going to be instant, but it has to start now.

  As I walk the short distance to the outdoor parking lot, where I told Spencer to wait, I notice the extra looks I get from the guys I pass. One stops to stare openly before earning a slap on the chest from his date.

  I smile, pleased with my newly-discovered feminine power. And to think, all it took was an extra touch of mascara, a hint of lip gloss, and a little bit of blush on my cheeks.

  Oh, plus a whole new wardrobe.

  I have a black pushup bra beneath a skimpy red crop top, all borrowed from Katy. A denim jacket is thrown on top. My shirt ends right at my belly button, showing just the right amount of skin when the jacket’s open.

  Tight, close-fitting black jeans ride low on my hips. A sexy belt that matches my stylish summer boots completes the rebellious look.

  My hair is loose. I shake my head to let the wind carry it. I know boys love that type of look. I should feel sexy, I tell myself.

  I see Spencer in the parking lot before he sees me. Or rather, I see him before he recognizes me.

  He’s sitting on his bike with the engine running, looking incredibly casual yet sexy with one foot kicked out. His eyes come to me. I can feel the hunger in his gaze as he gives me a quick one-over before turning his attention away, waiting for Paige to arrive.

  All the effort I’ve gone through is rewarded when his gaze snaps back to me. His eyes go wide. For a moment, I think he actually forgets to breathe.

  My, this type of power is exhilarating, I think to myself as I plaster a seductive smile on my lips and strut up to him.

  “Hey sexy,” I purr, coming close to brush my cheek against his in a chaste kiss. I swing my leg over his bike and hold on.

  “Hey to you,” Spencer says. “Damn, Paige. You look stunning. What’s the occasion?”

  “I have a date with you, don’t I?” I croon, cozying up against his muscular back and wrapping my arms around his waist. “I didn’t want to disappoint.”

  “Hell, with you looking like that, I may have to rethink our itinerary for the night,” Spencer mutters. “I should be parading you all over campus on my arm.”

  I get a slight adrenaline kick at the thought. “It’s never too late to change your mind,” I say slyly.

  Spencer turns around and stares at me. “Who are you, and what have you done with the real Paige?”

  I laugh at him. “Silly boy. I’m the same girl I’ve always been.”

  “No. Something’s different about you.” Spencer winks, and the bike roars to life. “But I like it.”

  ***

  We stop in front of a large warehouse only a few minutes from campus. Spencer helps me off the bike.

  “Um, Spencer?” I ask, feeling much less confident about this endeavor than before, “What are we doing here?”

  “I promised I’d show you what I’m all about, remember?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, the tour starts here. This,” he gestures at the building behind him, “is my shop.”

  “What, like you repair bikes or something?” I ask, squinting my eyes at him.

  Spencer chuckles and shoots me a mysterious smile. “No, nothing as crude as that.” He unlocks the entrance and walks in.

  I follow him into the darkness. He flips a switch on the wall, and the shuttering schunk, schunk echoes through the building as rows of overhead lights turn on in succession.

  The warehouse is filled with all sorts of heavy machinery, the likes of which I’ve never seen. There are long sheets of paper-thin metal rolled up against one wall. Some reflect the light brightly, others give off a dull glow. Multiple working stations dot the floor, each one close to a different type of machine.

  “A metal shop,” I say, the pieces clicking in my head. “Is this all yours?”

  Spencer tilts his head to look at me. “No. Of course not.”

  Immediately, I feel like a complete idiot for asking. I don’t know anything about the cost of such things, but I bet each one of the industrial machines costs as much as a sedan. Probably more. “Sorry, I—”

  Spencer shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. The school owns this shop. I’m just on good terms with the supervisor. She lets me have my own key.”

  I look around. “So what do you do here?”

  He grins. “You haven’t figured it out?” He takes my hand and pushes the sleeve up to expose the bracelet he’d given me. I’d put it on tonight just for him. “I make things like this.”

  I blink dully for a moment. The feel of Spencer’s fingers on my skin evokes a strong, guttural reaction in me. I can feel the heat of his gaze as he examines my face. It clashes with the soft, almost careful way he holds my hand. As if he’s afraid I am a butterfly who will fly away at the slightest provocation.

  I swallow and go for confidence. “Then you’ll have to show me where you made it.”

  Spencer smiles and drops my hand. I feel an instant pang of longing for his touch. It seems like all my senses are on overdrive, enhanced by my true purpose for the night.

  “This way,” he gestures. When I step in that direction, his hand easily finds the small of my back.

  I hide a smile and let him lead me. My heart rate is palpably faster when he’s this close, and my stomach insists on doing flips. I try to tell my body that this type of reaction is part of old Paige, but I guess it takes more than just dressing the part to become a different person.

  Spencer brings me to a door in the far corner of the warehouse. He unlocks it with a key, turns on the lights, and ushers me in.

  The room is the size of a small office. But I’ve never seen an office so full of… stuff. One wall is shelved from floor to ceiling. Different pieces of metal, from coins to sheets to ingots to wires, take up every visible space. Across from it is a working desk. There are small, indistinguishable pieces of scrap all over.

  “Turn around,” Spencer suggests. I do—and can’t help the small gasp. This wall, the one with the door, is decorated with all types of beautiful trinkets. I see necklaces and earrings, beads and abstract designs. Some have colorful rocks in them. Others h
ave intricate engravings.

  What stands out most is that no two pieces are alike. Each one looks like it has been painstakingly crafted. And all of them have a certain dark edge that makes it clear they were crafted by the same hand.

  “So?” Spencer asked, leaning against the desk. “What do you think?”

  “You made all of these?” I ask.

  He nods.

  “They’re beautiful,” I enthuse. “I had no idea you were an artist.”

  Spencer chuckles. “That’s generous of you. I’m just a guy who likes working with his hands.”

  I turn back to hide the faint flush that forms on my cheeks at the double-entendre. One of the pieces catches my eye. I reach out tentatively. “May I?”

  “Touch them? Sure.” Spencer comes up behind me and directs my hand with his. “This one,” he says, “is the only one I will never sell.” He hooks an intricate figurine from a rung and places it in my hands.

  I turn it over, fascinated by the deep markings and engravings running over the sides. It feels heavy and raw, like it possesses real value.

  I would never have imagined Spencer capable of creating something like this. The patience and care that was obviously put into it astounds me.

  I’m starting to understand how wrong I’ve been about him this whole time.

  “Why?” I ask, my voice hitching.

  “Because,” Spencer says, his voice almost a whisper, “I made it for someone very special to me.”

  I gasp as his splayed hand goes on my abdomen. He pulls me into him.

  “Because,” he breathes into my ear, “it would break my heart to lose the last piece I have of her.”

  My breath catches. Her?

  Spencer’s hands go to my neck. He brushes my hair aside and gently peels the jacket off my shoulders. He lowers his nose to the valley of my collarbone and inhales.

  I can feel the heat of his skin. My body breaks out in goose bumps at the intimacy of his touch. My natural defenses threaten to kick in—but I shove them down.

  This is what I came here for, isn’t it?

  “Paige…” Spencer says softly. “You don’t know how much I want you right now.”

  A rush of heat floods my cheeks. I’m glad he can’t see my face.

  I make my voice strong. “You do?”

  “Yes. Without question.” His voice carries the utmost conviction. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that morning.” He slips my jacket an inch lower, exposing more of my skin. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  I close my eyes. I thought Spencer was the biggest bullshitter in the world when I met him. But now… now, hearing the sincerity in his words… feeling the desire that pulses through me from his touch… now, I’m not so sure.

  My heart is pounding in my chest. Every thump feels like a solid hammer blow. Spencer’s close enough to hear that. He must hear that.

  With shaking hands, I hang the figurine back in its place. I’m terrified of what will happen next. But I came here to face my fears. This is me doing it.

  I turn around and let the jacket fall to the floor. Spencer looks deep into my eyes. An intense power emanates from his gaze. I’ve never experienced anything like it.

  I take a deep breath and step into him. My breasts press against his hard chest. I lift my chin to maintain eye contact. I cannot let him see my nervousness.

  Spencer runs his hands up and down my arms. He has a firm grip. Unwavering. Just like the rest of him.

  It’s now or never. If I wait any longer, I’ll lose my nerve.

  I catch his hands and link our fingers together. “Tell me what you really want, Spencer.”

  His chest rises and falls as his breathing deepens. His eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. I swallow as they roam over my face and come to rest on my lips. “You,” he breathes.

  I force the words out in a single breath before my resolve falters. “Then take me.”

  My words seem to stun Spencer. But he recovers in a split-second, and his mouth crashes over mine.

  I’m shocked by the searing passion that erupts inside of me. I want him. Without hesitation, without reservation, I want him.

  My tongue clashes with his. Tasting, plundering, devouring. This is the manifestation of his pent-up desire for me. And God, it feels good.

  I don’t think. I only react. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss is frantic, frenetic, and absolutely obliterating. Spencer’s hands run down my body. He hitches one of my legs up, pressing himself into me. He’s powerful.

  Why had I resisted so much before? This feels so very right.

  I stumble back with him and am pressed against the closed door. The taste of his lips isn’t enough. I want more. Greedily, my hands slide under his shirt. I need to get him naked, fast.

  The intensity of that need surprises me. Spencer is my aphrodisiac. He sweeps aside the inhibitions that normally govern my actions. Near him, I feel reckless.

  I don’t need alcohol. I don’t need drugs. I only need him.

  “Paige.” Spencer catches my hands and breaks away from the kiss. I flounder, lost. I have to blink a few times before I can focus on his face.

  His lips are red and swollen from my hunger. His eyes are hazy, half-lidded, and oh-so-sensual.

  “Why did you stop?” I ask. My voice sounds small. It’s almost a plea for him to continue.

  Spencer tilts his head to the side and looks me over. His eyes are so intense that I’m afraid they will burn a hole in my skull. My heart is fluttering and my body shaking as I wait for his answer.

  I can’t take the growing silence. I need him now. I go on my toes and crane my neck forward…

  And am stopped a hairsbreadth away from his face by one firm finger on my lips.

  “Paige…” Spencer breaks eye contact by looking down. When he focuses his attention on me again, his eyes look sympathetic. He trails the back of his knuckles up and down my cheek.

  I shudder and close my eyes, leaning into his touch.

  “I can’t do this,” he whispers.

  My eyes snap open. What? He can’t do this? “What are you talking about?”

  Conflict rages behind his gray irises as he takes a step back. I nearly fall forward, unsteadied by the sudden shift. He shakes his head as he backs away. “I’m sorry,” he says.

  Sorry. Sorry. He’s sorry?

  Irritation explodes within me. I take a bold step forward. My hands lands on his chest. I feel his heart hammering away under his ribcage.

  My breathing is ragged. All my nerves are shot. How dare he stop now, right at the moment I am finally ready?

  Then it hits me: Spencer doesn’t want me.

  All my resolve fails. I stumble back, blinking away hot tears.

  “Paige?” Concern fills Spencer’s voice. “Paige, are you okay?”

  I shake my head and emit a muffled sob. I feel dizzy. Nauseous.

  He knows now. I’m one of those girls: A Slut with a capital S, just like the rest of them.

  I can’t stay here. I need to get away. I spin around—and am stopped when Spencer’s hand catches my elbow.

  “Let me go!” I sputter, jerking myself away.

  Spencer doesn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightens as he steps around me. He picks up my other arm as well.

  I feel tears stinging my cheeks. Why am I so damn weak? Why can’t I, for once in my life, stand up and do what I want?

  I’m ashamed of dressing like this. I’m ashamed of trying to be sexy.

  I can’t face Spencer. I can’t look into the eyes of the man who does not want me and not break down.

  “You’re crying,” Spencer says.

  I bite my lip and swing my head from side to side. It’s a wild, unrestrained motion. As if I hope I can erase all my shame with it.

  Spencer takes hold of my chin. He forces me to stop moving. He does not tilt my head up. Instead, he bends his knees until he’s at my level.

  “I’ve upset y
ou,” he says.

  His voice tugs at me. Against my better judgment, I look up.

  One glance is enough for me to regret my decision. I flinch away.

  There is so much caring in his face that it breaks my heart. I don’t deserve it.

  “Paige,” Spencer repeats. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Can’t you see?” I want to laugh. Instead, the string of words comes out as another pathetic sob. “Do you want verbal confirmation, too, Spencer? Is it not enough to see my reaction after you’ve rejected me?”

  “Rejected?” Spencer sounds flabbergasted. “Paige, I never… oh.” I hear a sharp intake of breath. “That’s what you think happened, isn’t it?”

  Is he really so cruel? Does he just want to rub it into my face even more?

  I can’t stand the humiliation I’m feeling. The only saving grace of this entire situation is that there is no one else around to see. Otherwise, I think I might die of shame.

  “Let me go, Spencer.”

  So much for Operation New Me, I think.

  “You’re not going anywhere, kitten,” Spencer says. Oh God, does he have to use that pet name? It only makes it sting so much more. “Not until you give me a chance to explain myself.”

  “What’s there to explain?” I spit in his face. “I was supposed to be an easy conquest for you. You got mad when things didn’t go your way. And now that I’m just like the other sluts you date, you’re bored.” I tug at the lack of material covering my stomach in anger. “That’s it, challenge over! You’re an ass, Spencer. A boorish, crude, cruel ass!”

  His eyes widen at my outburst. The venomous hate in my words surprises even me. I guess everyone’s capable of an extreme reaction when emotions are running high.

  Spencer doesn’t let go, even as I flail around in his grasp. I can feel his fingers digging into my flesh.

  “Let me go,” I warn. “Or else I’ll scream.”

  Spencer blinks. An odd expression crawls onto his face.

  Then he startles me by starting to laugh.

  It begins as a mere chuckle. Then it builds in his throat, in his lungs, until it turns into full-on, loud, unrestrained laughter.