by Pam Godwin
“Arms above your head. Press your wrists against the lattice as if my ropes are keeping them there.” He watched with his whole body as she obeyed with quivering breaths and an adoring gaze.
His cock twitched with the need to thrust deep inside her. “Describe your pussy.”
Her breath sped up. “It's tight, Master. It hasn't been wrapped around anything but my fingers in six months. It's wet and beautiful and yours.”
He stared at her with wonder, like a witness to the fall of prison walls and the freeing of a courageous heart that had been trapped inside. She stole his breath.
He covered her mouth with boiling, ravenous kisses as he fingered her cunt, finding her wet and tight and undeniably beautiful. Using the strength of her core muscles, she lifted her legs and twined them around his waist, her eyes as hungry and desperate as he was. He replaced his fingers with his cock, pressing against her opening, and hissed through his teeth as he entered her in one long thrust.
Heat rushed through his body, concentrating on where they were joined. To feel this connection after so goddamned long, Christ, it was like a welcoming song, a homecoming. It shook the very foundation of his soul. “Fuck, Amber. I missed you.”
Clutching the diagonal rungs of the lattice, she whimpered against his chest. He ground his hips and flexed his ass to deepen the penetration.
He ran his hands over her full chest and around her curvy hips, pulling her to him with a fury of slamming drives. She didn't lower her legs or let go of the trellis as he gripped her hair, jerked her head back, and bit her below the ear. Despite the threat of outside, her movements were more confident than they'd ever been, her pelvis circling and rocking as she met him thrust for thrust.
His release swelled to the brink of explosion, and he grunted. “Come for me, Amber. I want to hear you.”
She threw her head back and let go, her body shaking and her moans warbling into the night sky. It swept him away, wrenching the orgasm from his body in trembling waves.
As he came down, their lips met in a kiss so simple and tender, so honest and familiar, it left him split open and helplessly, shamelessly, filled with devotion. He pulled her to his chest, and they stood in silence, their arms wrapped around each other.
“Told you he'd find you.” Liv's voice chimed through the darkness.
He yanked up his jeans and glared at her over his shoulder. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” She leaned against the deck railing and watched them pull on their clothes. “Stalkers are hard to get rid of.” Not a hint of emotion on her face, but a smile lifted her voice. Yeah, Liv had been a stalker once, too.
Amber's arms coiled around his waist, her cheek resting on his chest. “This one's not so bad.”
“So you've said.” Liv straightened and walked toward her back door. Then she paused, her eyes locked with his. “When you're done there, swing by. You still owe me a meeting.”
He tightened his arms around Amber's back and closed his eyes as a weightless rush drifted over him. When he looked up, Liv was gone. But her offer lingered. He pressed his lips against the top of Amber's head. “You've been busy.”
She shrugged. “She has something you want.”
His pulse raced. “You think she’ll—?”
“Go find out.”
Ten minutes later, his racing heart neared detonation as he stood outside a spare bedroom in Liv’s house. He squeezed Amber’s hand and strained his eyes to make out the shadowed shapes within the room.
“She’s just staying the night,” Liv whispered. “If you wake her, I’ll kill you.”
He was already moving through the dark room, his mouth dry and adrenaline surging through his blood. Amber lingered in the doorway, her supportive smile holding him upright.
Stunned and hypnotized, he reached the bed and soaked in the shaded blur of Livana’s dark eyelashes and dainty features. Her tiny fingers curled around the pillow, her slender frame cocooned in bedding. Christ, she was even more precious in person.
Reaching down, he ran trembling fingers over a wisp of her hair. The soft texture seeped through his touch, vividly bright and so damned real.
He could stand there all night, and he did for a long time, breathless and overcome. A cleared throat in the hallway jerked him into awareness, and slowly, reluctantly, he stepped away.
Liv waited outside the bedroom with Amber and Joshua, rigid in her statue-like posture as she watched him approach. When he reached her, her eyes flickered, right before he yanked her into an embrace.
Her arms hung at her sides, her body stiff and unyielding. Beside her, Joshua leaned against the wall, his gaze soft and thoughtful and fixed on Liv.
Van lowered his forehead to her shoulder. “I’m sorry. For keeping her from you. For taking you from your mother. It’s too late for apologies. Fuck, I know this, but I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you.”
Tense seconds passed, then her arms rose and folded around his back. She squeezed tighter, her voice thick. “This is a good start.”
He raised his head and shared a look with Amber over Liv’s shoulder, one that promised new memories. Joyful memories. She pressed a knuckle to her mouth and gave him a tearful smile.
He released Liv and moved to her side, where he belonged, surrounded by the radiance of her presence. As he stared into the brown eyes of the woman who embodied impossible dreams, he felt the future in every cell of his body. It felt crazy and beautiful and decisively unbreakable.
Four years later...
Amber was outrunning him, fucking running circles around him. But really, how could he complain? Watching her ass flex in those painted-on athletic pants took his mind off his burning muscles and overworked lungs.
As the sun disappeared behind the skyline of downtown Austin, the city's towers glinted with the lingering rays of yellow and gold. Too bad the humidity didn't vanish with it. He wiped his forehead with the sweatband on his wrist and quickened his pace to catch up with that gorgeous ass.
Maybe fifty paces ahead of him, she pivoted, running backwards and grinning at him like a goon. “What's the hold up, old man?”
Old man? He was still a year younger than she was, even if she hadn’t broken a sweat. Fucking show-off.
Pedestrians and fellow runners scurried out of their way. A dozen teen-aged boys paused their soccer game to watch her run by. He gave the fuckers a threatening glare, and they snapped from their gawking and returned to their scrimmage.
He and Amber could’ve easily jogged in the woods at the cabin, but the social surroundings were good for her. And there was another reason he’d chosen this park.
In an hour, he would be meeting with one of his former slaves, Camila, on the south side of the pond. He’d learned she was attempting to bring down a new slave ring in Austin and was in over her head. Even with her cartel connections, it had been too ambitious and risky as hell. She needed help, and fuck him, but being a husband and a father fueled him with a crazy amount of protective drive, which included a bloodthirsty need to wipe the city of sex trafficking.
Amber was skittish about his involvement, but she would come around. He wouldn’t give her a choice.
Up ahead, an old lady and her Boston Terrier stepped into Amber’s backward running path. If Amber didn't turn back around soon, she was going to collide with them.
“Amber.” He panted for air. “Watch yourself.”
As she spun around, he glimpsed the tightening of her fist and the flinch of her shoulders. No one around her would notice the traces of her anxiety, the way she cracked her knuckles too often, the tiny hiccups in her breathing, and the trickle of sweat between her breasts. They would only see the confident woman she was with a knockout body and face so ethereal it compelled longing glances.
Every day she left the house was a workout for her. The agoraphobia would always be there, but she made it her bitch with an inspiring amount of courage.
He caught up with her on the bend around the pond and ran at her
side. Christ, he loved seeing her at his side. Good thing, too, since they worked together every day out of the garage at the cabin. Her leathercraft business had trickled into the doll market, and they were inundated with orders.
When they reached the next bend, his pocket vibrated. He checked the caller ID and grabbed her elbow, veering them off the track.
Slowing to a stop and hunching over with a hand on his knee, he lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey, sweetheart.”
A melodic voice tinkled through the phone. “Daddy?”
Damn, he would never get tired of hearing her call him that. And it was the only greeting she gave before charging into the reason for her call. “You can’t just go around threat—”
“I’m doing great.” He smiled, feeling the easiness of it inside and out. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” She sniffed then rushed on in her high-pitched voice. “But Katie told Jena, and Jena told—”
“Livana.” He used his warning tone, winking at Amber. “Slow down.”
Amber bent at the waist in a stretch that put her chest on her thighs and her ass in the air. He leaned with her, mesmerized, as blood rushed to his dick. He dropped the phone.
She gave him an upside down grin, her ponytail swishing over the ground.
He returned the phone to his ear and pulled his shirt over the front of his pants.
“—can't do that,” Livana said. “Are you there?”
“Yeah, honey. I dropped the phone. Start over.”
“Did you threaten Danny Taylor?”
Oh, that. “I didn't threaten him. I simply enlightened him.”
Amber straightened, shaking her head and licking the corner of her curved mouth, the vixen.
“Mom already said I could go to the dance.” Livana's voice pierced through the phone, cool and sure and just like Liv's.
By mom, she meant Mr. E's widow, Carolyn Eary, her legal guardian who raised her from birth and still provided the roof over her head.
What had started out as Liv introducing him as a family friend was now a unique, and often delicate, arrangement. He'd spent a lot of time with Carolyn in those first few months, feeling her out. When he finally revealed his identity, she was understandably skeptical of his intentions. But he'd proved himself as he'd done with Liv, and a year after he'd met Livana, Carolyn told her whom her biological parents were.
Livana knew nothing of their criminal history, but she did know how to play all three of them to get what she wanted. Carolyn was a fucking pushover. He was a drill sergeant. But Liv was the wild card.
“What did Liv say?”
“She said to ask you.”
“I didn't hear you ask.”
Even irritated, her sigh was the sweetest damned sound. “Daddy, can I please go to the dance?”
“You're too young.”
“I'm twelve!”
He dug a toothpick from his pocket and slid it into his mouth. He was done jogging for the night. Amber was in the midst of another erotic stretch and his focus was shit. “You can go, and I will chaperone.”
A long pause. “Ugh. Fine.”
Well, that was easy. Maybe she didn't realize he would be at her side the entire evening. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
He pocketed the phone and scanned the park for a spot that would offer the most privacy. When an outcrop of rocks up ahead caught his eye, he gripped Amber's hand and led her to them.
Behind the cover of a huge boulder, he pressed her against the flat surface and kissed her deeply and thoroughly. “Go to the dance with me, Mrs. Quiso.”
She answered by returning his kiss and flicking her tongue wildly and aggressively. They'd been married for two years, but every day felt like a honeymoon. He ran his hands up her spandex-clad thighs, cupped the hard muscles of her ass, and caressed the soft curves with his fingers.
Yeah, sex in a public park wasn’t the best idea for a guy who wanted to remain under the radar. But as she flexed her hips, tangled her tongue with his, and aroused every nerve-ending in his body, his only thought was Yes.
She reached for her shirt and pulled it over her head, her tits tumbling over the cage of her sports bra. Jesus. Whether in shackles and hanging naked from a tree or seconds away from losing her panties in a park, her ability to shock and awe him was infinite.
Curling her arms around his shoulders, she rose up on tiptoes to meet his gaze with bright eyes. “Still want to put a baby inside me? Fifty-percent chance you'll get another girl.”
“I'll take anything you give me.” He ground the aching ridge of his erection against the V of her thighs. “Right now, you’re going to give me something wet and tight. Turn around. Arms above your head.”
CHECK OUT OTHER BOOKS
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PREVIEW OF
TORRENT BY GEMMA JAMES
BLURB
She sent an innocent man to prison. Now, eight years later, he’s returning the favor…
I’ve been obsessed with Rafe Mason since I was thirteen. The twisted part of this story is that I still want him, even now.
Now that he's holding me captive on an island.
Rafe has his reasons for doing what he's doing, and if I'm honest, I can't blame him. I’m the girl who sent him to prison for a heinous crime he didn't commit.
But now he's free and the tables have turned...now he's the one driven by obsession.
TORRENT is a new adult dark romance with disturbing themes and explicit content, including sexual scenes and violence that may offend some. Intended for mature audiences. Part one of the CONDEMNED series. This is not a stand-alone read. Approximately 43,000 words.
1. Escape
When it came to karma, I wished for skepticism. Thing was, I fully believed in karma. Something had to balance the scales, otherwise the world would tip off its axis and crash into total chaos. Thanks to my belief in supernatural balance, I had no doubt I was screwed. That was never more true than when I gripped the single piece of paper on which four words were written.
I’m coming for you.
I’d found the note tacked to my door. I didn’t question who left it, as only one person had reason to leave such a warning, and considering he’d been released from the state penitentiary three weeks ago, I couldn’t deny the evidence. I’d been agonizing over the moment when he would confront me.
When, not if.
My knees gave out, and I sank to the bed. Rain beat against the roof in a sudden onslaught, and the panes of my favorite window seat rattled. I hadn’t been home for more than a few minutes, but apparently I’d escaped inside at the most opportune time. I took the torrential tap-tap-tap and rush of wind as a sign, an omen perhaps.
He was coming for me, and I deserved it.
Someone pounded on the door, and I jumped like a frightened kitten. I stashed the note in the drawer of my nightstand and returned to the foyer, pulled the door open, and almost expected to find Rafe on the other side.
It was Zach, not Rafe, who shoved past the threshold. Immediately, the strong odor of whiskey hit my nose.
“You’re not fuckin’ marrying him,” he said with a slur. I edged away as he stumbled into the accent table in the foyer. “I’m going crazy, Lex. Look what you’ve done to me.” Wiping soggy brown hair from his eyes, he lurched forward and clung to my shoulder to keep from falling.
“Did you drive here?”
“Of course I didn’t drive! I’m not an idiot.”
“I know you’re not an—”
He grabbed my chin, silencing me instantly. “You’re gonna call this engagement off, do you hear me?”
The ever-present weight of dread held me in its clutches. “Dad pushed for it.” I paused, one, two, three thuds of my heart pounding in my ears. “Just like he pushed for me to date Lucas. I
think he knows.”
“Knows what?” His fingers fell from my chin, and I stared at my feet, enclosed in trendy black heels that matched the black cocktail dress I’d worn to dinner, where Lucas Perrone had proposed.
“About us.”
He faltered, mouth gaping, and it was the most unusual sight. Zach didn’t normally struggle for words, threats, insults.
He blinked and the moment was gone. “I don’t give a fuck what Dad knows or doesn’t know. You’re gonna break this engagement, and you’re not seeing him again.” As if the issue were settled, he staggered into the living room where he sprawled onto the sofa, one leg bent and a foot resting on the floor. I averted my gaze from the bulge behind his zipper.
I needed to get him out of my house pronto. “I’ll call you a cab. We’ll talk tomorrow about this, I promise.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “My cab just left, and we’re talkin’ now.” His brows narrowed over angry hazel eyes. “C’mere,” he said, patting his lap.
I backed up, shaking my head.
“No? You want it extra rough? Is that it?”
I didn’t want it at all, but I knew better than to voice it. I scratched my arm, digging in a little deeper than usual.
“You think marrying some mid-forties vanilla hack is gonna ‘fix’ you? Make you normal? We both know you’re nothing but a slut.”
I clenched my teeth. His insult maimed more than his hands did, especially since he was the only man I’d ever slept with. He perceived any guy who glanced in my direction as a threat, as if I welcomed the attention, and he’d become downright vicious since Dad set me up with Lucas.
Dad had always made decisions for me, from what school I attended to which program I chose as a major. I’d earned degrees in accounting and business but harbored no desire to use them. He expected me to hop on board the family legacy in a managerial capacity, but unlike him and Zach, I had no interest in mixed martial arts or running an enterprise of venues and training centers.
I chalked it up to the fact that we didn’t share DNA. Mom married Abott De Luca when I was six, but he was like a dad to me, especially since he’d legally adopted me, and as such, I’d never thought of Zach as a step-brother. Not where it counted. The step part got lost in the sea of right and wrong and perversely unacceptable.
