Tell Me What You Need

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Tell Me What You Need Page 1

by Susan Sheehey




  TELL ME WHAT YOU

  NEED

  BOOK THREE

  BY

  SUSAN SHEEHEY

  Tell Me What You Need

  by Susan Sheehey

  Knights of Texas

  Book Three

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2017, Susan Sheehey

  Cover Design Copyright © 2017, JM Walker – Just Write Creations

  Cover Image Copyright © 2017 from Deposit Photos

  Series Logo Design Copyright © 2017, JM Walker-Just Write Creations

  Title Design Copyright © 2017, MG Book Covers and Designs

  Edited by Chrissy Szarek

  Amepphire Press

  Trophy Club, TX

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including, but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Amepphire Press or the Author.

  eBook ISBN: 978-1947874046

  Print book ISBN: 978-1947874077

  Published in the United States of America

  First eBook Edition: January, 2018

  First Print Edition: January, 2018

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Teaser Excerpt

  Other Novels by Susan Sheehey

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek of Tell Me What You Feel!

  About the Author

  Novels by Susan Sheehey

  TEASER EXCERPT

  Cora’s breaths came in short bursts, and her gaze kept flitting back and forth between his eyes and his mouth.

  Vaughn dipped down slowly, watching her pupils dilate with every inch. Her chest rose once more, and she tilted her face.

  There’s my invitation.

  He fused his mouth to hers, not waiting for permission. To open more and massage her tongue with his own. To taste her, see if she was as spectacular as in his dreams.

  She was. Even better.

  The tart margarita blended with her peppermint mouthwash. He desperately wanted to get drunk off her. He tilted his face more to delve deeper, and her expert tongue tangled with his. Making his dick harden and push against his pants.

  Her nails dug into his shirt, strong, forceful, with so much promise for later.

  He could barely wait.

  With a final nip on her tongue, he pulled away.

  Watched her eyes slowly open to the realization that Vaughn was more than an imagination. Or a possibility. He was a sure thing, if she wanted it. Those swollen lips, red and delectable, were better than he dreamed.

  “Ready to dance?”

  Cora’s flushed face split into the most gorgeous smile. “Just keep up with me.”

  OTHER NOVELS BY SUSAN SHEEHEY

  Audrey’s Promise

  ROYALS OF SOLANA series

  Prince of Solana

  Jewel of Solana

  Crown of Solana

  KNIGHTS OF TEXAS series

  Tell Me What You Want

  Tell Me What You Crave

  Tell Me What You Need

  DEDICATION

  For my father

  My biggest supporter, and original hero

  I miss you so much

  CHAPTER ONE

  Vaughn

  Vaughn Ayers dipped the woman over his arm, gliding his hand down her slinky, sequined shirt until he reached her navel. His heartbeat matched the rhythm and bass from the salsa music, the song ingrained in his soul. At least ingrained in his memory, he’d heard the tune fifty times each cruise.

  After six years working for the cruise line, he had the DJ’s playlist memorized. Dozens of assignments all over the world, countless ports, and even more countless women.

  But the dancing would never get old.

  Courtney lifted her head, and stared, still poised in the dip, both of them lost for breath. That glint in her eyes proved the hours of flirting over the day just paid off.

  With one move.

  That was why Vaughn loved dancing. He literally swept women off their feet.

  Worked every time.

  The ship swayed against a wave, making everyone on the illuminated floor stumble. He wrapped his arm around her tighter, and helped her stand. He barely noticed the swaying now, so used to it after years of working among rough seas.

  The blonde gripped his neck, and pressed her mouth to his. Her tongue forceful against his lips, and sweet. A precursor to the rest of the night.

  Her kiss lingered on his, and her gaze filled with lust. “My cabin or yours?”

  He grinned. Sleeping with guests was strictly off limits. On or off duty. Good thing Courtney wasn’t technically a guest. She worked for the cruise line, one of the camera crew from a photo shoot today. “Yours,” he replied into her ear over the music.

  With an echoing grin, she grabbed his hand and led him off the floor.

  Vaughn glanced over at Dorian, his friend and fellow cruise ship entertainment coordinator, who, last he saw, was dancing with some Spanish beauty. Except now, he stood over the by the bar, guzzling bottle after bottle of water.

  He frowned, and tugged back on the woman’s arm gently. “Give me a second.” He finished the request with a kiss.

  “Don’t say a damn word.” His buddy guzzled another bottle by the time Vaughn joined him.

  He already knew what was wrong. The same thing that’d plagued the muscled, stocky man for the last eight months. Sea-sickness.

  Not easy for a former Marine to admit. Dorian just wasn’t born with sea legs. Not like Vaughn.

  “Did you run out of anti-nausea meds?”

  Dorian’s face turned a little more green, or maybe the disco ball kept catching his skin the wrong way. “They stopped working. As soon as we reached Curacao, just useless.”

  On cue, another wave shifted the ship sideways. People stumbled again, and this time a few glasses slid off the counter. Good thing they were plastic.

  The minute the ship hit the rougher waters off the ABC islands in the Caribbean, all bartenders knew to shift out the glassware.

  His friend’s stomach must’ve lurched into his throat.

  Without skipping a beat, Vaughn grabbed the trash can from behind the bar, and set it in front of Dorian.

  At least he could tell when the guy would lose his dinner just by the look on his face. They had their routine.

  D would escape from guests’ view and finish his involuntary-purging, and Vaughn would cover for him. As soon as he recovered, they’d spend their time bouncing women off each other, full-time wingmen, traveling the world.

  Whenever a fight ensued between women over their ‘boat boyfriend,’ his military budd
y deescalated. That was what he did best. Something he sucked at.

  Courtney sidled up to Vaughn, her fingers caressing his bicep in a strong grip he was counting on later. “You coming?”

  “Sure thing, darlin’.”

  Dorian heaved again from behind the panel, and he cringed.

  “Actually, I’ll meet you there. Need to make sure my friend gets back to his cabin first.”

  She sighed, and gave him a sympathetic glance. “He was pretty green all through the photo shoot, too. He should pick a different profession.”

  Vaughn kissed her again, and promised to follow her soon. After she left, he retrieved a cold cloth from one of the drawers at the bar.

  His buddy finally finished, and Vaughn gave him the compress for his neck. “Ever considered hypnotism?”

  D glared, and drank more water, slower this time.

  “The bird has a point.” A tall man in board shorts and a silk shirt stepped over, carrying a highball glass full of an amber liquid.

  Bourbon, Vaughn guessed. From the British accent and lopsided smirk, he was either there to flirt, or sell something.

  “You look like you need a new profession.”

  Definitely selling something.

  “Occupational hazard,” Vaughn replied. “Comes with the territory.”

  “I’ve found fewer things suck the life out of someone more efficiently than sea-sickness.” The man set his glass on the counter.

  “How about a sniper shot?” Dorian wiped his mouth with the rag, and looked sideways at him. “I’ll take this over an Afghan desert.”

  The guy’s smile widened. “Fair enough. But what if you could have a job with this sort of fun, minus the nausea?”

  “You sound like a recruiter.” Vaughn glanced at his Citizen watch. “This guy’s already been pursued by one of those.”

  The Brit laughed, then stuck out his hand. “Duane Wilkes.”

  He accepted the shake. “Vaughn Ayers. This is Dorian West.”

  “Seems like entertainment is a crucial part of whatever role you fill. I could use a few good men like you. Forgive the pun.”

  “What’s your business?” Dorian asked.

  Duane’s smile turned into another smirk. “Let me ask you one question first.” He downed the rest of his bourbon. “How are you with discretion?”

  Dorian’s brow furrowed.

  Vaughn couldn’t keep from laughing.

  “You sound like 007. What are you, a spy?” Dorian said.

  “Don’t let my accent fool you. My business is based out of the United States. I’m willing to pay your moving expenses and help set you up.”

  “The cruise line isn’t thrilled with the idea of one of their guests trying to recruit away their staff.” His buddy chucked his empty water bottle in the trash. “You should be careful in case one of the Ship Directors overhears you.”

  The man’s smile widened. “Good thing I’m her personal guest aboard this floating marvel.”

  Vaughn bit back a cringe. This could be a set up. The ship director had likely arranged this guy to see if their staff fell for a recruitment ploy, only to be fired for even considering it.

  “Don’t worry, chaps. I owe her no loyalty.” He swiped his hand through his slick hair, the light glinting off a Breitling watch. “If my proposition intrigues you enough to whisk away to new ventures, what does it matter if she revokes your severance? I can guarantee you earn that sum back in less than a week.”

  Vaughn glanced at Dorian, who raised an eyebrow. The man was considering it. “What’s the catch?”

  “Dealing with an unconventional stigma, and putting aside your personal lives for a while. But you’ll never go hungry, and you’ll never be lonely. The rest is the kind of lifestyle you’re currently living.”

  Vaughn hadn’t considered too much about a different role in all his years with the cruise line, he enjoyed the party lifestyle and the constant flow of beautiful woman at his fingertips. He also wasn’t getting any younger.

  Most of the ports of call he’d seen a dozen times. As much as he loved the ocean life, something new couldn’t hurt. Especially if his good friend was coming with him.

  Not to mention the money.

  However, good money never came easy.

  The catch to this man’s offer was hung up in the unconventional stigma.

  “Where is this new venture?” Dorian asked.

  “Texas,” Duane replied. “Dallas area, specifically. Before your mind starts filling in the image with cowboy hats and horses, it’s quite urban. Sleek skyscrapers, eclectic nightlife, and plenty of green.”

  “Enough with the sales pitch. What’s the job?” Vaughn asked.

  “Not a job, a lifestyle.” He handed over a card from his pocket.

  Duane Wilkes

  Owner—Knights of Texas

  CHAPTER TWO

  Vaughn

  The coffee shop bustled with caffeine-addicted people on Thursday night, wearing flip flops and thin shirts in the hot and muggy June air.

  Not Vaughn.

  He wore a full tux, complete with Knights’ signature black stone cufflinks, with a diamond chip off-centered. Waiting at a table in the back, the white rose was the signal for his new client to identify him. For a formal event a few blocks over.

  Stares and smiles from the surrounding patrons didn’t unnerve him. On the contrary, it wasn’t a shocker he looked good. Better than good. That was part of his job requirement.

  This new client would get the VIP treatment.

  The barista had included her phone number on the cup with his water. The brunette had similar red highlights as Vaughn, but his were natural.

  The job request came with no additional information, other than a formal charity event with a single woman. No phone contact, no preference sheet, just a name. Caroline.

  Look for the gray dress.

  The door opened, and a crowd of people walked in. An older couple arm-in-arm, a gaggle of teenagers, and two men in casual sport coats. Which meant the movie theater around the corner just let out.

  Behind them entered a dark-haired woman, but she was blocked by the grouping. Through everyone’s legs, he made out super-high sparkly heels, strapped over her delicate feet and perfectly manicured toes.

  Eventually, the crowd moved, revealing her dazzling gray dress, a one shoulder marvel of satin that skimmed just above her knees. More like shimmery pewter, hugging her body in delectable ways, with a built-in corset frame, lifting up her breasts in a tasteful cleavage leaving just enough to Vaughn’s imagination.

  Her dark hair was pulled back into a braided French twist, with a gemstone covered clasp. Elegance defined.

  That wasn’t what had Vaughn’s jaw on the floor.

  “Cora?”

  Her gaze met his from across the room, and her pleasant blush-colored smile vanished. Even her cheeks pinked over, and she paled in two seconds as she openly gawked with those hazel eyes.

  “Vaughn?” She pulled her clutch to her stomach. The same color as her dress. A dress that deserved a spot among the natural wonders of the world.

  He slowly approached. He could never forget Cora Castillo’s face. The awkward, raven-haired girl from high school had grown up into one drop-dead gorgeous goddess.

  Her pink lips were parted, her gaze following him in an open gawk.

  At least we have that in common.

  Vaughn handed her the rose, and swallowed, just to regain his composure, slipping his other hand in his pocket. “This is one extremely pleasant surprise.”

  “I didn’t know…you’re from the agency?”

  He nodded. There was no force on Earth that could stop his emerging smile.

  She bit her lip, and he was instantly jealous.

  He wanted to bite that for her. Among other parts of her.

  Get a grip. She’s a client.

  “It’s been a very long time…” Her voice turned breathy, and the pink returned to her cheeks. “Weren’t you in Miami, doing some
thing with cruise ships?”

  His heart skipped. She’d kept tabs on him? “I moved here over a year ago. What brings you to Texas?”

  Cora swallowed. “Work.”

  “I can see you’re doing extremely well.” His gaze traveled down her body, and then back up.

  The hair clip at her French twist was ivy leaves entwined around a small dagger. Simple diamond earrings finished off her glamorous look, with no necklace.

  “What do you do?”

  She blinked, and the vein in her neck ticked up in tempo. “Let’s…” She pressed her lips together. “Have a seat, and we’ll get started.”

  Cora

  Holy mother of hell.

  Vaughn Ayers stood in front of Cora in the sexiest tux she’d ever seen, the man dripping with more magnetism than he’d possessed in high school. A feat she’d assumed impossible.

  That wasn’t her biggest problem.

  Her cover was blown.

  So much for Caroline Lake.

  The man had grown into his toned muscles and angular face too well. The hint of red stubble on his cheeks gave him a much older and refined presence than the juvenile she remembered. Those indigo eyes were exactly the same. Piercing, trusting, and completely irresistible.

  So unfair.

  They were glued to her, instead of the dozen other women hanging off his shoulder from junior year.

  “Where’d you end up?” he asked.

  “End up?”

  “You moved senior year. Just up and vanished, not a word since.”

  She took a deep breath. Wake up, woman. Figure out if I continue the con or not. “D.C. My father’s job.”

  “Lawyer, right?”

  “He was a lobbyist.”

  His smile slipped. “Was?”

 

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