Tempt The Playboy

by Natasha Madison

  “Yup, my money is on Lauren.” She looks at me. “You’re lucky she saved you this time.” She smiles at Lauren. “Let’s do lunch tomorrow. Austin’s treat.”

  She leaves the room leaving us all alone. “Fine. I guess I’ll try and work with you, for Barbara.” She walks out to the desk facing my office. She puts her purse on it. Turning the computer on, she grabs a pen and notepad and comes back in. “No time like the present to get this out of the way, so why don’t we start with your expectations of me?”

  I look at her while she sits in the chair in front of me, crossing her legs at her ankles. I sit down, leaning back in my chair, and start rocking. “Okay, fine. I expect you to be on time. Every day. No exceptions.”

  She doesn’t write it down. “That isn’t a problem. I hate when people are late, so you don’t have to worry about that. Unless, of course, irresponsible people hit my car while I’m innocently driving, I’ll be here on time.”

  “There is a list on your desk of routine tasks required of this position that you can read. If it’s not clear enough, then come ask me questions. How’s that?”

  She gets up. “That sounds like a plan.” She turns to walk away, and I watch her. Every fucking step she takes she swings her hips; the best thing is, she has no idea she’s doing it. She has no idea that I’m sitting here negotiating with myself about my own rule. I’m not sure how I’m going to get anything done, because fucking her on my desk is the only thing I can think of that needs to be done right now.

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  Something So Right

  Prologue

  Giddy like a kid in a candy store, I skip up the front steps of the house. I haven’t seen him since he skated off the ice this morning and left me squirming in the locker room. Who knew dirty talk could be downright titillating? This girl right here, that’s who.

  I should just walk in like I normally do, but the door is locked, so I ring the doorbell, glancing around at the other houses. It’s so peaceful this time of day. Families getting ready to either go to the big football game or making dinner. The sound of footsteps draws my attention back to the door, with the goofiest smile I’ve ever had.

  “Hey—” The words die in my throat as I see a blond girl with legs all the way up to her throat wearing the same T-shirt he had on today. This can’t be happening. Heart pounding to an erratic rhythm, all the blood must have rushed to my head because I’m suddenly hot.

  “Can I help you?” Barbie asks, all perky and shit.

  “Ummm,” I stumble, trying to find my words because all I can think about is getting out of there before I embarrass myself or better yet get arrested for attempted murder. I mean, he was just with me almost naked!

  “I was looking for Coop. Is he here?” The words finally dislodge from my throat.

  She twirls her hair in her hand. Of course she does. She’s a fucking Barbie. “Yeah, he just stepped in the shower. Who are you?”

  “Oh, um, I’m Parker, his rehab coach.”

  “Oh, I heard so much about you. I’m Monica, the fiancée,” she says, flashing her five-carat ring.

  How did I not notice that rock while she was twirling her fucking hair?

  “Nice to meet you. I was just dropping by to let him know the hours have changed for practice tomorrow and that Tom will be there to assist him,” I say flatly, proud of myself for not saying what’s really on my mind.

  “Okay, do you want to come in and wait for him? He should be out any second.”

  Is she out of her fucking mind? I’m totally going to be superficial and say she’s a fucking airhead.

  “No.” I smile. “I’m headed out of town, so if you can just let him know.”

  “Oh, I’ll totally tell him.”

  Ugh, is that bile coming up my throat?

  “Thanks.” Without another word, I dash down the steps and whip my cell phone out. How, how in the ever loving fuck is this happening again? How is this possible? How many fucking people did I piss off on that Karma bus?

  Meg answers on the first ring.

  “Road trip.” My voice cracks, and I don’t know how, but she knows. She just knows I need her.

  “I’m packing. I’ll be ready in five.”

  A sob makes it out just as I press end and throw my phone across the car. I hope it smashes into pieces like my heart is right now.

  Something So Perfect

  Prologue

  Walking down the rubber mat to the ice, the smell gets you right away. Dry. It’s a smell you can’t describe. I’ve been skating before I could walk, according to my mom. I live and breathe for this sport. Even at the age of twenty-five, I still crave getting on the ice. When I’m almost near the door leading to the rink, I take off running, my skates sliding over the clean surface.

  Game day is a mix of different things for different players. For me, I get up early, get a workout in, and then relax till I have to make it to the rink, usually five hours before the game, to eat and get in the zone.

  The second I put my skate on the ice, the crowd goes wild.

  Little kids all line the boards, watching us skate around, shooting the puck doing drills. I stop in the corner and look up at the crowd as they take their seats while Ozzy Osborne’s “Crazy Train” fills the arena.

  “Big game,” my line mate, Phil, says right when he stops next to me. “We need this win if we want to qualify for the playoffs.”

  I handle the puck that’s ready on my blade for me to shoot at the person skating from the other side. I look down at the ice, and the Beavers are coming out strong, their goalie stopping every single puck that comes at him.

  “I want to fucking smash those assholes,” is the last thing I say before I take off to the center ice. The puck passed to me by Phil lands directly in the middle of the blade. I snipe it in as soon as it hits. Top corner, right over the goalie’s shoulder. My goalie, Luka, tells me to “fuck off” when I skate by him. I salute him while making my way to the bench where a reporter is standing interviewing our assistant coach.

  The coach walks away from the reporter, putting papers away in his coat pocket. The reporter looks at me. “You want to be interviewed, Grant?” he asks while checking his phone.

  I look him up and down. “Now you want to interview me?” I ask him, grabbing the water bottle on the ledge, squirting some in my mouth. “Weren’t you the one who started this fucking dumb campaign?” I smirk at him while checking the tape on my stick. “I believe the correct words were ‘time to hang up the skates, he’s done.’”

  His head snaps up and he tries to say something, but I ignore him and skate back to center ice.

  Chuck Harris, a Boston Beaver, is there watching me. “His highness is back.” He stands there looking at me. “Word is that your babysitter is a walking sex doll. Is that true?”

  He’s trying to bait me, trying to make me snap. I smirk at him, keeping my cool. That isn’t me anymore. I’m calm. I’m in a good place, and it’s all because of Karrie. I look up at where I know she will be sitting, but her seat is empty.

  I tilt my head to the side, wondering where she could be. The game is about to start. She is usually in her seat when we warm up, so I look around the arena to see if she is anywhere else.

  “Whatcha looking for?” Chuck smiles while he takes a drink from the green Gatorade bottle. I don’t bother answering him because the bell signals that it’s time for the Zamboni, so instead, I skate to the bench and head for the dressing room.

  I sit down, taking off the tape from my stick and throwing it in the garbage, then getting my roll of tape that’s right next to my cell phone. As I reach for the tape, I see my phone light up with my mother’s number. She knows I’m on the ice, so it might be an emergency.

  “Hello,” I answer the phone, looking around.

  “Matthew, thank God. I want you to listen and say nothing. I have you on speaker. Cooper is here, too,” she says, and then Cooper’s voice sounds out. “Listen to us before you talk. Got me, son?” His voic
e is clipped.

  “What the fuck is going on?” My heart starts pounding, and my neck gets hot, while I hear a commotion coming from outside the locker room. Voices rise behind me.

  “There’s a warrant out for your arrest. Someone is accusing you of beating and raping her yesterday,” Cooper hisses out while I look at the door that’s being slammed open. “I have the lawyer already on his way to you. You say nothing, son, nothing.”

  Two suit-wearing detectives come into the room. “Matthew Grant”—they flash their badges—“we have a couple of questions we need to ask,” one of them says while I hear Cooper still on the line. “Don’t say a fucking word, Matthew. We are coming to you.”

  “Now?” I hear Coach behind me yelling. “You do this to him now, two seconds before he’s supposed to go on the ice?” He glares at them. They obviously couldn’t care less.

  “You need to come down to the station with us,” the man continues, but I’m standing here with my mouth open, my ear drums pounding, and the phone to my ear. “We can walk out of here civilized or we can strap the cuffs on you. One way or another, you aren’t getting on that ice.”

  My teammates are standing up to see what’s going on and shaking their heads.

  “This is bullshit.” I hear Coach say while the guys nod.

  Phil comes up to me and whispers, “Don’t say a fucking word.”

  I don’t have time to process things before I’m being ushered out of the locker room. The only thing I take off is my skates.

  I walk out of the building and I’m led into an unmarked car. When I look out the side window, I see the owner of the team is now standing with Karrie by his side. His hands are around her shoulders, her face streaked with tears. “Karrie!” I yell from inside the car. “Karrie!”

  Nothing. She turns around and walks back into the arena, leaving me alone with the silence that now fills the car.

  Hell And Back

  Prologue

  Walking into the bare room, I look around. A small dresser with three drawers sits up against the plain white wall.

  A couple of shorts, shirts, and some socks fill the drawers, but most are empty. The small toddler bed lies in the middle of the room.

  Two nails hold up a dusty sheet in the window to block out the light. It used to be navy, but the years of wear have turned it to baby blue.

  I look down at my three-year-old daughter curled up into a small ball. Almost like she is guarding or protecting herself from whatever evil is lurking around us. She’s seen enough blackness in her three years to last a lifetime.

  She cried enough tears and heard enough sobs to fill twenty years’ worth of scary movies.

  When the doctor placed her on my chest I vowed to love and protect her, but I’ve failed her. I’ve failed myself. But no more. From that fateful day I vowed to right all the wrongs I did to her.

  I’ve escaped the horror we’ve endured. The bruises are starting to fade. The black and blues have now turned into a greenish yellow.

  The scars will fade, too, but the terror, the memories…nothing will erase them.

  I wake my girl up and grab her from her bed. “Momma, we habe to leabe again?”

  “No, baby, I just want to show you the stars outside.” I tuck her into my chest and make my way to the porch.

  No one knows about this one-story house my grandmother left me. Which is why we are safe. For now.

  The yard is overcome with weeds. Something I plan to rectify tomorrow. We’ve been here for the last seven days, staying inside. Trying not to bring attention to us. I’ve done my best not to be too jumpy, but every time I hear a car door slam shut, I hold my breath, hoping no one is coming up the steps that lead to the front door.

  We haven’t even opened the windows. It is almost like we’re shuttering ourselves inside this temporary safe haven as if we don’t even exist.

  Opening up the screen door, the rusty springs make a loud squeaking noise in the dead of the night. Trying not to make it slam shut, I hold the handle till it shuts softly.

  The sounds outside are quiet. Serene. No car sounds, no horns honking, no rushing, just crickets. I settle into the swing I know my grandfather hung to make sure my grandmother had somewhere she could sit and watch the stars.

  For thirty-seven years, they did it all together until death came and took my grandfather in his sleep. Ten years later, he came and rescued her from the pain of ALS. Her knitting, cooking, cleaning, gardening, baking all came to a halt the minute her hands shook so badly she couldn’t hold not even a fork to feed herself.

  Settling myself into the swing, I fold one foot under me, pushing off with the other one.

  “So many stars, Momma.” My brown-eyed girl looks up, pointing to what looks like a million twinkling lights in the sky.

  The darkness of the sky makes them sparkle like diamonds. Some are small, some are blinking. All are beautiful. It’s peaceful. It’s everything I remember it to be.

  It’s hope, hope for change. Hope for the future. Hope for the end of the nightmare I have been living the last four years. “Look, baby, a shooting star. Make a wish.”

  She closes her eyes, and I see her lips move, but no sound comes out of her mouth. I lean down kissing her forehead, making my own wish.

  I do this for the next thirty minutes, maybe more, pushing myself on that swing with one foot. Once I know she is asleep in my arms, I get back up to go inside.

  The whole time I never realized that the neighbor across the street has been sitting in his living room with the lights off just staring out the window at two broken girls sitting across the street.

  Pieces Of Heaven

  Mick

  I’m sitting here on a stool in this old, run-down, dead bar called Molly’s. The smell of stale cigarettes lingers on the walls, having soaked in over the years, way before they were banned.

  I swirl the brown liquid in my glass, thinking about how I got here, how much I could fuck up, even my own life.

  The stool next to me moves, scraping across the floor, but I don’t take my eyes off the glass.

  I don’t have to turn around to see who is sitting next to me. I know Fred, the bartender, called him. It’s what he always does when he thinks I’ve gone over the edge.

  I think this is my worst bender yet, and trust me, I’ve had a lot of fucking benders. How could I not?

  I’ve been here for the past five days, each day coming in at around noon, not leaving till past midnight. A couple of times I even passed out on his dirty, old couch in the office, waking in a puddle of drool with cat hair on my tongue.

  Just another phase, they thought. Just another bad time. If only they fucking knew.

  “So,” I hear Jackson talk. “How long is it going to last this time?” This is not our first rodeo. Jackson is the only one who has been there for me over the years.

  I shrug my shoulders, not even sure of the answer myself.

  “Is it Marissa? Is it Lori?” Just the mention of their names is like a stab to the heart. The pain is so unbearable I grab the glass and drink the amber liquid, hoping the burn will overpower the pain.

  “Gone,” is all I say, all I can muster up.

  “Gone where? Bella just spoke with her,” Jackson says.

  “Sandie’s pregnant.” The thought alone makes the liquid I just swallowed down begin to climb back up.

  The shocked look on Jackson’s face mimics mine when she told me.

  “Had heaven in my hands and I let it go. Fucked it up. Now I’m living in hell.”

  With that, I close my eyes, remembering the day I actually touched heaven.

  Acknowledgments

  Every single time I keep thinking it’s going to be easy. It takes a village to help and I don’t want to leave anyone out.

  My Husband: Thank you for holding my hand and being there with every step that I take. Thank you for understanding how much this means to me and for supporting me/ I love you!

  My Kids: Matteo, Michael, and Erica, Thank
you for letting me do this. . Thank you for going on this journey with me.

  Crystal: My hooker and bestie. What don’t you do for me? Everyone needs someone like you in their corner and I am so blessed than you chose to be in mine. I can’t begin to thank you for the support, love and encouragement along the way.

  Rachel: You are my blurb bitch. Each time you do it without even reading this book and you rocked it. I’m so happy that I ddin’t give up when you ignored my many messages.

  Lori: I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. You take over and I don’t even have to ask or worry because I know everything will be fine, because you’re a rock star!

  Beta girls: Teressa, Natasha M, Lori, Sian, Yolanda, and Carmen, Yamina. You girls made me not give up. You loved each and every single word and wrote and begged and pleaded for more.

  Madison Maniacs: This group is my go to, my safe place. You push me and get excited for me and I can’t wait to watch us grow even bigger!

  Mia: I’m so happy that Nanny threw out Archer’s Voice and I needed to tell you because that snowballed to a friendship that is without a doubt the best ever!

  Neda: You answer my question no matter how stupid they sound. Thank you for being you, thank you for everything!

  Emily: Thank you for holding my hand and not giving up.

  BLOGGERS. THANK YOU FOR TAKING A CHANCE ON ME. You give so much of yourself effortlessly and you are the voice that we can’t do this without.

  My Girls: Sabrina, Melanie, Marie-Eve, Lydia, Shelly, Stephanie, Marisa. Your support during this whole ride has been amazing. I can honestly say without a doubt that I have the best Squad of life!!!!

  And Lastly and most importantly to YOU the reader, Without you none of this would be real. So thank you for reading!

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  Sexaction Heidi McLaughlin

  Chapter One

  Jade

  Paradise.

  That is where I am. The pink sandy beaches of Bermuda have been calling my name for months, ever since a few of my clients raved about visiting. I wanted my best friend to come along, make a girls’ week but she was adamant that I do this alone. This being what she refers to as a life-changing vacation. I’m under strict orders to not be my usual self, to get out there and be free. None of which I can see happening. I’m rather content to sit by the pool or by the ocean, and people watch or read one of the novels I brought with me. That is definitely not life changing, except for the sandy beaches. The only thing different from my day to day is that I’ve shut myself off from the outside world. My phone is off, and my laptop didn’t make the trip.