Her green eyes bulged out of her head, but her smile was off the charts.
Once we were in the perfect position, I flattened my tongue on her clit.
She moaned around my cock as she swirled her tongue on the tip, sending jolts of pleasure to my balls.
I threw my head back and growled even louder when she took me deep, the head hitting the back of her throat. I became a madman as I worked until she was panting out breath after breath while she dragged her nails along my balls.
“I’m close, angel. So fucking close.” I didn’t want any of this to end.
When she sucked hard like she was sucking a lollipop, I was a second away from crashing and diving and feeling that euphoria that came with the best orgasm.
I rolled us around. “I want to be inside you.” I wanted to see her go over the edge. I wanted that connection of love and lust as we locked eyes.
We were all arms and legs as we adjusted our bodies until I was buried deep inside her.
“Oh fuck,” I said.
She played with herself while I fucked her like a man possessed.
Her breathing grew labored.
Sweat dripped down my chest as I continued to pound into her. “I’m ready, angel.”
“I’m almost there.” She arched her back, her lips parting in a perfect O. I knew she was sailing into euphoria.
I rocked in then out, watching her moan and tremble. When she squeezed around my cock, that blissful state of orgasm zipped through my body. “Fuuuuck,” I shouted.
She ran her hands up my chest. “Look at me.”
I didn’t know I had my eyes closed. I grinned as I pulsed inside her.
Her hands dove into my hair, and her big green eyes stared up at me. “I love you, Denim Hart.”
I pressed my hands into the mattress on either side of her head. “Ditto, angel.”
“Best Christmas ever,” she said in a breathy tone.
“For sure.” I didn’t want to tell her the best was yet to come. “Let’s take a shower. Then we can make breakfast and lounge around.”
“I have something to do first. You shower. Then I’ll join you.”
I imagined that she had to wrap a gift since I hadn’t seen any for me when I tucked her box under the tree. Not that I needed a gift. I had the best gift God could give me—Jade in my arms.
Thirty minutes later after we’d both showered and dressed, we were in the kitchen.
Jade was getting ready to make bacon.
I poured coffee into a cup. “Let’s open presents before we eat.” I took her hand and pulled her over to the tree.
She lowered herself to the carpet and sat on her heels. “I would like you to open yours first.” She snagged the box that she must’ve put under the tree while I was in the shower and handed it to me.
I joined her on the floor, feeling like we were kids eager to tear into our presents. Then I unwrapped the box that I was guessing had a shirt or sweater in it. But when I finally took the cover off, I cocked my head to one side. “What’s this?” I lifted the manila folder out of the box.
“Open the folder,” she said.
The paper inside read, “Denim Hart, your murder charge has officially been dropped and your record expunged. Congratulations! Kelton Maxwell.”
I’d been waiting for this. Kelton had said it would take some time.
I kissed Jade. “Best Christmas ever.”
She smiled from ear to ear. “That was from Kelton. There’s something else inside from me.”
I pulled out tissue paper to find a square box that looked like it contained some type of jewelry, which I didn’t wear. Inside was…
I glanced up at her. “Where did you find this?”
She took the watch out of the box. “I found it in my bedroom a week before you broke up with me. I guess I kept it as something to remember you by.”
I had loved that watch. It wasn’t anything fancy—a designer knockoff with a silver face and band, but Grace had given me the watch for my birthday one year. She’d saved up her money Duke had given her on occasion. It was more sentimental than anything.
I put the watch on my wrist. “I love it. Grace will light up when she sees this.”
Jade tucked her hair behind her ear. “Merry Christmas.”
“I have everything I want now. Well, there is one thing I need.” I dragged the shoe box to her. My heart ramped up, ready to burst out of my chest.
She tore the wrapping paper off it like a kid in a candy store. Then her eyebrows knitted together when she started pulling out tissue paper after tissue paper until she got to a small velvet box. Her hands shook. “You didn’t, Denim Hart.”
I took the box from her. “Jade Kelly.”
She shook her head. “This can’t be happening.”
I scooted closer to her until we were knees to knees. “Please look at me.”
She lifted her watery green gaze.
I opened the box, not taking my eyes off her. “I’ve never been surer of us. I’ve never been happier. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you. I want you to be my partner, lover, best friend, and mother of my baseball team of kids. But most of all, I want you to be my wife as we muddle through this world and spend every moment making memories. I love you, Jade Kelly. Will you marry me?”
She slapped a hand over her mouth as a sob escaped her. “You can’t afford that emerald.”
“Angel, that’s not the answer I was looking for. But I got a job. Dillon hired me. I’m now officially working on his security staff for the shelter, and his friend Hunt is going to get me into his brother’s security firm too.”
She blinked away tears. “That’s fantastic! But I thought you wanted to go into business?”
“I do, and I will still get my degree, but I have to work.” We didn’t have rent or a house payment thanks to Duke, but we were partners, and I needed to do my part. “Back to the important question.”
Jade took the half-carat emerald out of the box. “Yes, yes, yes.” She threw herself at me, peppering kisses on my jaw then lips. “I love you more than you know. My heart has been yours since we met. And I couldn’t have asked for a better man to spend my life with.”
Now I had everything I needed.
Hart of Darkness
They’re both haunted by their past. When they come together for justice, can they also find love?
Dillon Hart atoned for a troubled youth by joining the U.S. Merchant Marine. But when he returned home from service, his little brother was in jail and his sister missing. After four painful years of searching that led only to heartache, everything changes when a blast from the past darkens his door.
Crime reporter Maggie Marx will do anything it takes to get the story. But what she really wants is revenge on the gang who left her for dead. When she brings a battered woman to a shelter, she’s shocked to learn the owner is her handsome former rival.
Discovering she has information that could lead to his sister, Dillon puts aside their differences to hunt the criminals that wronged them both. And as the trail heats up, so does the chemistry between the two sleuths. But when Maggie’s source brings her too close to the truth, their wakening romance may end with their lives.
Will walking the path of vengeance bring Dillon and Maggie together or tear them apart forever?
Hart of Darkness is the dark, standalone first book in The Hart romantic suspense series. If you like nail-biting tension, gritty settings, and complicated affairs, then you’ll love S.B. Alexander’s hard-boiled tale.
Turn the page and read chapter 1 now.
Hart of Darkness Sample
Chapter 1 - DILLON
Tearing my gaze away from my banking program, I rubbed my eyes before I checked the time—almost midnight. I threw my head back, blowing out a long breath.
The couch across from me was calling my name. I’d been sleeping in my office on and off for the last two months since I’d opened a shelter for girls—runaways, girls who needed to get off the st
reets, or girls who needed to get away from abusive partners. Actually, I’d been exhausted since I purchased the three-story home eight months ago. I’d scoured estate auctions, yard sales, and thrift stores like the Salvation Army and Goodwill for beds, linens, and any type of furniture. I’d been lucky to find couches, desks, kitchen appliances, beds, a ping-pong table and other necessities at a low cost.
I considered myself frugal. I didn’t need fancy stuff. I wanted to make sure the girls who landed at the shelter had at least a decent bed with linens and a cozy environment so they would feel protected.
My attention drifted to the small framed photo of my sister, Grace, that sat next to my computer. Her picture was a reminder of why I’d opened the shelter, and I hoped that one day she might walk through the front door.
Her tawny-brown eyes had flecks of gold, much like mine. If any of my siblings resembled me, it was Grace. My brother Denim was the blond in the family, with striking blue eyes. He took after our father’s side. Duke had a lighter shade of brown hair than Grace and me, and his eyes were reddish-brown, or chestnut-colored as I remembered my mother saying
“Where are you, sister?” I mumbled to no one. “I’m sorry I left you with that monster we called Dad.” I traced my finger over her small nose. “I’ll never give up looking for you.”
My stomach knotted as I dipped back in time to that day.
“Dillon, please don’t leave me,” Grace cried. “I can’t handle Dad alone anymore.”
I moved a strand of wavy hair behind her ear. “Duke and Denim will watch over you.”
She threw her arms around me. “They’re not you. You take care of me. You protect me from Dad.”
“I promise, our brothers will make sure Dad doesn’t beat you.” I held back tears, thinking about how I’d caught my old man slapping the shit out of Grace on more than one occasion. “You remember what I taught you? Don’t walk away. Run.”
Pain zipped up my arm, and I blinked, realizing I was trying to crush the frame with my tight grip. Grace had taken my advice and ran. I hadn’t meant for her to run away or disappear off the face of the earth. I’d only wanted her to get the fuck out of the same room as our alcoholic father.
Regardless, the shelter was dedicated to her and every girl who needed a place of refuge. Sadly, though, I could only take in ten girls max. It was a start. Shelter or not, I wasn’t giving up hope that Grace was alive, although after four years of scouring the Boston streets, it was hard to stay positive. I hadn’t found one damn sign of Grace, not even a dead body.
If I hadn’t gone into the merchant marines, she would have been here. But I had trusted my brothers to watch over her. I’d trusted that they wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Instead, when I’d returned home, my family was a mess. Grace had left home. My younger brother, Denim, was in jail for murder. My older brother, Duke, was into some bad shit as a loan shark and probably other illegal crap I didn’t care to know about. And my old man was still a drunk, oblivious to his sons and daughter.
I didn’t talk to Duke much. I couldn’t. Every time I saw him, I wanted to beat the crap out of him. I blamed him more than I blamed Denim for not taking care of Grace. He was the older brother. The one who was supposed to watch over all of us. The one who I’d looked up to. The one who’d broken my old man’s nose the night he wouldn’t stop kicking me in the gut, all because I’d smarted off to him over something as stupid as dinner. I didn’t like waxy green beans, so I’d thrown them in the trash. My old man had caught me, removed every one of them from the trash, and shoved them down my throat until I was gagging and throwing up. Then he’d proceeded to use me as his punching bag, only he’d used his steel-toed boots, ramming them into my gut over and over again.
“I work hard to put food on the table for you,” he’d yelled then kicked. “How dare you throw my money away!”
The door to my office groaned before my best bud and right-hand man, Rafe, waltzed in, sporting his usual buzz cut. Since we’d met in the merchant marines, he’d never wavered from his hairstyle. I, on the other hand, grew out my hair the moment I’d stepped foot onto dry land.
He flicked his chin at me. “It looks like a hurricane hit your desk.”
I arched a brow, more at Rafe than at the pile of receipts and bills littering the desktop. It looked like a game of Go Fish that Grace and I had played many times as kids. “What are you doing up?”
Rafe removed his gun from his lower back and set it down on the coffee table as he dropped his large body onto the couch across from me. “I let Josh have the night off. I was patrolling outside and saw your light on.”
I tapped a key. My screen flashed into camera view. “It seems quiet out there. Unlike last night.”
“If that fucker returns tonight, I’ll tear off his head.” Rafe’s deep voice could scare a brown bear.
Leaning back in my chair, I locked my hands behind my head. “Norton is going to be a problem. I need to talk to the Guardian. They have some badass motherfuckers on the security staff. We could use more help.” The Guardian was owned by Jeremy Pitt, Russian mob boss. He stacked his team with mostly ex-military dudes who knew how to defend and protect anyone and anything. But I was going to request Hunter Thompson, who was non-military. I knew him. I trusted him, and he was as much of a badass as his colleagues.
Rafe propped his big-booted feet up on the coffee table. “Are you good on the budget for this place? If not, I could float you some. I have a ton saved from our days at sea.”
I tapped another button on the keyboard. “I’m good. Just making sure the checkbook balances, that’s all.” I had a lot of money invested in stocks and bonds. During my time at sea, I’d learned everything about the stock market, thanks to the captain of the ship. He’d been into investing, and on many nights, he and I would talk stocks. I’d made a nice nest egg. I also had a kick-ass financial advisor, who’d helped my nest egg grow.
My cell phone vibrated and bounced across my metal desk. A call at this time of night was never good. I suspected it was the cops, calling to tell me that my old man was in jail again for drunken and disorderly conduct. I wasn’t sure why they called me. I’d always told my father he could rot in jail. Maybe he was hoping that his persistence would pay off. Not in this lifetime.
Eddie’s name brightened the screen on my phone. My heart skipped a beat. “It’s Eddie at the morgue,” I told Rafe. Then I pressed the phone to my ear. “What’s up?”
Clang. Clang.
“Shit,” Eddie said. “Hold on.”
I heard another clang, followed by what sounded like an explosion.
“Eddie?” I asked.
“Sorry. My tray fell. Look, we had a young girl come in tonight. We haven’t been able to identify her.”
The blood drained from me. I hadn’t heard from Eddie in several months. His last call had brought me down to the morgue to identify a Jane Doe who he’d thought matched Grace’s description. The girl hadn’t been Grace.
“So you think she could be Grace?”
“Maybe,” he said.
“On my way.” I disconnected before he could say anything else. It was best to see the body.
Rafe rested his elbows on his knees. “Still trolling the morgues? Man, you need to stop. I’m not saying give up hope, but it’s got to be gut-wrenching to see dead people, let alone a young dead girl who could be your sister.”
He was spot-on, although I could count on one hand how many times Eddie had called me down to the morgue. Still, the five times Eddie had lifted the sheet or opened the body bag, I’d lost my dinner. Each girl had either died from a drug overdose or had been murdered.
I was still wrestling with my feelings on how my own brother could murder someone. As teenagers, my brothers and I had been in a gang. We weren’t innocent in the least. We’d drawn blood on many occasions during our gang fights, especially when our rivals had hurt Grace to get back at Duke for slashing the tires on one of their cars. That had been a bad night for Mike Santos,
the boy who had taken his fists to my sister. I would’ve liked to say that I’d gotten satisfaction out of beating him until he couldn’t see, but it had only served to give me a wake-up call, especially after both of us had ended up in the emergency room.
Rafe snapped his fingers. “You’ve been spacing out a lot lately.” He loomed over my desk. “You look like shit too. Seriously, man, you need to let your quest to find Grace go.” Casually, he backed away, maybe because of the scowl I was sporting. “I’m only saying consider your health and yourself.”
I ground my back teeth together as I snagged my phone, wallet, and keys off my desk. “I know you’re looking out for me, but I’ll decide when I’m ready to give up on looking for my baby sister.”
He scrubbed a hand over his head. “I’ve always been straight with you. I’m not going to change now. So put yourself first. Find an outlet, or better yet, find a woman. When was the last time you were with anyone?”
I chuckled. Rafe was worried about my love life, which was nonexistent. I didn’t have time for a steady relationship. I didn’t want one either. I had sexual needs, of course, but I took care of those with an occasional hookup now and again.
I skirted around my desk. “The talk of my sex life is off-limits.” I didn’t fear much in life, but I cringed at the idea of settling down or even meeting someone who would steal my heart. I’d never been in love, so I couldn’t say what the feeling was all about. With my luck, the woman would learn of my fucked-up family and run like a gazelle. “Grace is my life.” I waved a hand around. “The Hart of Hope shelter is now my life.” At least I was doing something good.
Maybe that would negate all the bad shit I’d done as a rebellious kid. Maybe that would erase all those memories of driving a knife into someone or getting kicked and punched by my drunken old man from the age of six until I reached puberty. Then I’d gotten up the balls to punch my father right back, and he’d let me until he unleashed his strength, sending me to the hospital with a broken nose.
Hart of Vengeance: The Hart Series Page 25
