Finding Acceptance in His Arms
Page 1
FINDING ACCEPTANCE
IN HIS ARMS
Thomas Briar
Erotic Romance
Secret Cravings Publishing
www.secretcravingspublishing.com
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A Secret Cravings Publishing Book
Erotic Romance
Finding Acceptance In His Arms
Copyright © 2015 Thomas Briar
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63105-534-8
First E-book Publication: March 2015
Cover design by Dawné Dominique
Edited by Kyle Lewis
Proofread by Laurie White
All cover art and logo copyright © 2015 by Secret Cravings Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Secret Cravings Publishing
www.secretcravingspublishing.com
Dedication
For my wife
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**Blood Kisses (Nightwalkers 1), paranormal erotic romance:
Ashleigh Brown, the author of the popular Nightwalkers series, lives a quiet life free of the limelight. She keeps her real identity secret by writing under the pen name, Victoria Allure. She soon finds herself in a bind when she's kidnapped by a group of handsome vampires seeking Victoria. She then agrees to meet their Master, who's a huge fan of her books. But instead of meeting him, she accidentally crosses paths with her rock star crush. He is the sexy muse behind Nightwalkers and the man she based the hero in the series upon. She would do anything to meet him but little does she know her crush has a secret...
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FINDING ACCEPTANCE
IN HIS ARMS
Thomas Briar
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
Kara moved her hips to the easy rhythm of the dimly lit dance club. From her position in front of the bar she took subtle glances at the other young clubbers along with small sips of strawberry daiquiri. The alcohol did nothing to drown the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach. Chills prickled her skin despite the temperature of the club being only slightly cooler than the hot summer’s evening outside its doors.
For the hundredth time she asked herself if she intended to actually go through with what she’d planned. And the answer, like all the other times before, continued to be yes. She had no choice. This was her last shot at real freedom.
Pertinent points of fact—the red and white striped bustier and red vinyl miniskirt she wore served one purpose and one purpose only. The outfit clung to her body, accentuating her ample breasts, small waist, and voluptuous bubble butt. The white fishnet stockings and five-inch red stilettos weren’t happenstance either. Neither was the fire engine red nail polish, the faux ruby jewelry, the dainty red purse, the perfectly applied makeup, the cloying perfume, the elegant upstyle hairdo, or the absence of any underwear.
“I am beautiful and desirable,” she whispered underneath her breath. “My light mocha skin is smooth and without blemish. My curly ebony hair shimmers with vibrancy. My sparkling gray eyes exemplify electricity in motion. He will not be able to resist what I have to offer. He will smile at me and invite me to sit down.”
To lend actual credence to her words, she reminded herself that she’d already rebuffed several cute guys in the fifteen minutes she’d been here. Even so, it worried her that Evan Lars hadn’t taken notice of her. He should have acknowledged her presence already.
Once again her gaze turned toward the back corner of the club where he shared a table with one of his many attractive female acquaintances. It di
dn’t faze her that he wasn’t alone, because he was a very good-looking man in his sexual prime and she didn’t live in a fairy tale.
The inevitable declared she must walk over and introduce herself.
Still, she delayed, staring at him through the dancing bodies. She believed she could see him for what he was and also for what he was not. The hopelessly romantic part of her personality wanted to swoon at his handsome angular face, close-cropped wavy blond hair, dark blue eyes, and six feet of lean, muscular body. But she couldn’t afford to swoon. Not with him. He would never return her affections.
Judging the timing correct, she left her half-finished strawberry daiquiri on the bar and sauntered through the dancing bodies to stop at his table. She extended her hand. “Excuse me, Mr. Lars. My name is Kara Gibson. I was told that you can help me find employment.”
He ignored the hand, giving her a critical look from head to toe. When he finally spoke his strong, masculine voice dripped with sarcasm. “You’ve been misinformed, little girl. I don’t own a strip club.”
The gorgeous blonde sitting across the small table quickly hid her lips behind her champagne glass, but the smile still reached her eyes.
Kara presented him a confident smile. “I’m twenty-two years old, so that disqualifies me from being a little girl, Mr. Lars. And although I do freely admit to enjoying the attention of men, I’m not an aspiring stripper.”
“Why don’t you go freshen your makeup, Stephanie?” he addressed the blonde. “This won’t take but a minute, then you can come back. I really do want to hear more about your fashion shoot in California.”
Kara waited until the model left before she seated herself. She stared into the thunderstorm raging inside Mr. Lars’s eyes. “If you’ll only give me an interview you won’t regret it. I really do need the work.”
“And what kind of work are you looking for?”
She smiled again to disguise her uneasiness. “Well, I’m open to almost anything as long it allows me to work intimately with you. I’ve heard you’re an amazing performer.”
“Is that a fact?”
“That’s what I keep hearing.”
“Do you even know what will be required of you? Or did you just hear the rumors circulating around this nightclub and think, ‘Oh wow! That sounds so glamorous!’ Well, let me tell you something, it isn’t very glamorous at all. It’s a lot of damned hard work. “ He stared her down in yet another appraisal. “However, I’ll let you state your references since you seem so eager. You have thirty seconds to make me want to work with you.”
“I-I-I have no references.” Kara’s mind spun. She hadn’t expected this. She’d taken the time to dress the part and introduce herself, so he was supposed to want to work with her.
An uncomfortable silence descended. For whatever reason, Mr. Lars showed mercy. “How did you hear about me?”
She breathed a secret sigh of relief. She could answer this. “A woman in my apartment building claims to have worked with you before. Her name is Jennifer Spawson. She offered to introduce me to you next week but I didn’t want to wait.”
Mr. Lars frowned at his shot of whiskey before killing it in a single gulp. “I appreciate your interest in working with me, Ms. Gibson, but please go away. I’m on a date and you’re interrupting it.”
Kara could hardly believe the interview was over. She stared in shock and dismay, her mouth falling opening with no words coming out.
“Go on, now,” he prompted. “And don’t ever bother me again with your juvenile attempt at using me to get into the business. Go get some real experience under hot lights and then maybe I’ll give you an audition. Of course, I’ll first want to see the video so I can judge what you’re good at, and what you need to improve upon. Now don’t make me tell you to leave again. I won’t be so nice next time.”
“I studied drama in college and once starred in a mainstream play,” she blurted out. “I’m a hard worker and will take upon myself any personality required of the character I would be playing. I’ll literally do anything you ask of me. I need the work. Please don’t send me away. I’m desperate.”
“And with that admission you’ll be expecting an advance on future monies earned, right?” he sneered. “The rent can be hard to make for a single girl with no acting talent and a useless drama degree, can’t it?”
“It’s not a money issue,” Kara replied.
“So you’ll work for free?” Mr. Lars raised his eyebrows.
“I didn’t say that.” She strained to keep her voice sweet and calm. “I want to be paid like all the others.”
“Okay.” He placed an elbow on the table and leaned in to minimize the distance separating them. He stared directly into her eyes as intrigue settled onto his face. “If isn’t money, then what is your motivation for wanting to do this? Your real motivation, not what you think I want to hear.”
Kara steadied her nerves to make the forthcoming lies sound believable. She maintained eye contact and made her facial expression and voice convey determination. “I don’t want to start out at the bottom in some obscure, third-rate company where I will have to readily consent to having all my holes violated multiple times by a pack of roughhousing Neanderthals whose only worthy attribute is their large cocks.
“Besides, a lot of those guys don’t treat the girls with respect at all, especially the unknown girls. Jennifer said you would not only treat me with the utmost respect as a person, but you would also not push me past any of my boundaries.”
It was Mr. Lars’ turn to look dismayed. He sighed loudly. “You will have to get dirty—and I’m talking really dirty—if you want to succeed in this business.”
Suddenly, what Kara was asking for became very real to her, like a harsh slap across her face. A rush of adrenaline burst through her veins. She stated most firmly, “I will literally do whatever you want me to do so as long as you don’t ridicule me before, during, or afterward for enjoying myself.”
“I don’t like being ridiculed for enjoying myself either. So there’s no need for you to worry about me doing that to you.” He grimaced. “You’ve got a clean bill of health, and the paperwork to prove it?”
“Yes. I’m clean as a virgin and I’m on birth control.”
“Good. But you’ll still have to go see my doctor for fresh blood work and a very invasive physical examination.”
“Nothing would make me happier.” She offered up another confident smile.
“Is Kara Gibson your real name?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Your address?”
“One second…” Kara opened her purse to retrieve a folded sheet of paper. She unfolded it and handed it over. “This is everything Jennifer said you would require, including all of my contact information.”
Mr. Lars perused the page, giving subtle nods at the information. “How long have you’ve lived here in Atlanta?”
“I was born here.”
“Parents?”
“Deceased.”
“Present employer?”
“Unemployed.”
He furrowed his brow. “If you are unemployed, then how are you paying your bills?”
“I’m dipping into a small inheritance my parents left me.”
Mr. Lars stared deeply into her eyes for a short time before his expression softened. “You are very beautiful, Kara. But I’m hesitant to give you an audition because I still don’t believe you know what you’ll be in for.”
What he was saying sent shivers up Kara’s spine, and not in a good way. Swallowing down the sudden lump in her throat, she said, “I assure you that I can do this.”
“You seem willing enough. I’ve give you that,” Hope crept into his countenance. “In this business one never knows what the next request will be. If one refuses a request, then one doesn’t usually get called back a second time. Remember though, everything will be completely consensual.”
“What about safe and sane?” Kara asked, thinking of the mantra the roleplaying BDSM communit
y preached to no end.
“The people who hire sex performers don’t pay for sane. Please keep in mind, if you go through with this, that my word is the only assurance I can give you of your supposed safety. And you don’t really know me.”
“Okay.” Kara didn’t know what else to say. This situation was getting scarier by the second. It also beckoned to something primitive hidden deep inside her that she didn’t let out into the light very often. Her juices started flowing and she wished she’d given more thought to the ‘no panties’ decision of this evening.
“One final warning, Kara, this business will change you in ways you can’t even begin to imagine. That’s why I’m twenty-six years old and have no illusions about matrimony ever being in my future. “
“I never intend to get married either. So it sounds perfect,” Kara said, thinking Mr. Lars was getting more interesting all the time.
“Well, that’s about enough of me trying to talk you out of doing this. So here’s how it’ll work between us if I decide to take you out on assignment.” The persona of friend disappeared entirely from Mr. Lars’ demeanor. “The monetary split for all monies earned, including the tip, will be fifty-fifty. You have no job so I’m assuming you have no engagements in the forthcoming week to interfere with my plans for you. If you prove you’re not amenable, then I won’t waste a second longer on you. A-M-E-N-A-B-L-E. Look the word up to make sure you know its meaning. My time is very valuable to me. Do you understand me thus far?”
Kara saw an opportunity to impress Mr. Lars. “Amenable means ‘easily persuaded’ or ‘suggestive to persuasion.’ In this specific situation it means I will have to validate your putting your time and energy into me by being susceptible to all of your persuasions.”