Debauched (Undone Book 3)

by Jennifer Dawson

  By

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author has asserted their rights under the Copyright Designs and Patent Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book.

  Copyright © 2016 Jennifer Dawson

  Edited by Mary Moran

  Cover Design by Alvania Scarborough

  All rights reserved.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Praise for Jennifer Dawson & The Undone Series

  USA TODAY calls Crave a must-read romance

  “Crave gets the balance between lust filled scenes and a meaningful plot just right. Neither takes from the other and together they just add up to a very satisfying and emotional read.” —Between My Lines

  “If you love Foster, Kaye and Dawson’s Something New series you’ll love Crave and the Undone series.” —Caffeinated Book Reviewer.

  “Every character in this book (Sinful) is amazingly written. ” —Bookish Bevil

  “You know why I love this author? She takes something absolutely mundane like a “Best Friend’s Sister” romance and turns it into a masterpiece.” —For the Love of Fictional Worlds

  “Crave by Jennifer Dawson is a darkly erotic and deeply moving romance.”-—Romance Novel News

  “Jennifer Dawson’s Sinful has amazing scenes that get my heart beating and calls for a cold shower, but the love story that is evolving between Leo and Jillian is amazing.”—Courting Fiction

  Step into Debauched

  An Undone Novel

  One night in a moment of sheer madness I confessed my secrets to him. All my life I’ve been pretending. Pretending to be the woman I thought I should be instead of the woman I really am. I’ve been faking it and I am good. No one has ever guessed. Except him. He just looked at me and knew.

  Chad Fellows is not the man I want, but he’s fast becoming the man I need.

  One night in a moment of sheer madness I held her in my arms and let her cry. I did the right thing, letting her walk away, no matter how much she calls to the part of me that wants to rescue her. We are nothing alike, and she’s a mess of complications in a life I’m trying to keep simple. But then I touched her and made her tremble and now I can’t turn away.

  Ruby Stiles is not the woman I want, but she’s fast becoming the woman I need.

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  More books by Jennifer Dawson

  Interested in steamy contemporary romance? Try Something New.

  Take A Chance on Me

  The Winner Takes It All

  The Name of the Game

  As Good as New

  She’s My Kind of Girl (Coming September, 27th, 2016)

  Can’t get enough emotional, erotic romance? Come Undone.

  Crave

  Sinful

  Unraveled

  Debauched

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Praise for Jennifer Dawson

  Step into Debauched

  Books by Jennifer Dawson

  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

  Sneak Peek of Crave

  About the Author

  Ruby

  He’s the first person I look for as I walk into the crowded room.

  I don’t want it to be true, but it is.

  Chad Fellows. The cute, nice guy I’d deemed harmless and not my type when I first met him has turned into my biggest nightmare. And he’s still not my type. At all.

  I just can’t stop thinking about him.

  Chad is a responsible, employed IT manager, a stark contrast to my normal guy. I like my men with an edge. Artistic rocker types, with songs running through their heads, mattresses on their floor, and Peter Pan complexes.

  Walking disasters are an acquired taste.

  Since I was fifteen years old my preference has not deviated, much to my family’s and friends’ disgust, but that all changed eight weeks ago on Valentine’s Day at our friend Brandon Townsend III’s new club The Lair. Instinct had warned me not to go that night, but I hadn’t listened and now my perception of Chad had shifted around me and I’m not happy about it.

  Thankfully, I haven’t seen him since.

  I don’t want to see him tonight.

  Only, I can’t stop searching the crowded room for him.

  While I’ve thought of him plenty, I’ve successfully avoided him since that night, when I’d made such a fool of myself. When I’d somehow ended up crying helplessly on his shoulder, distraught and emotional. When I’d let him see me as I never let anyone see me, vulnerable and lost. I cringe, remembering how I’d turned my face up to his, silently pleading to lose myself in him so I could avoid all that was wrong with me. I hadn’t offered outright, but it had hung there in the air between us.

  He’d sent me home in a cab. Untouched. Except for the imprint of his palm on my back.

  The next morning I’d woken up hung over, humiliated, and thankful.

  If I could avoid the evening’s celebration I would, but I can’t. It’s my best friend Layla’s engagement party. I’m her maid of honor. I’m duty bound, and I love Layla so much I wouldn’t miss it for the world. She’s been through hell and back and I will do anything in my power to help her build a road to happiness. I’m also compelled to make up for the petty jealousy I experienced, and kept hidden from her, on Valentine’s night that started this whole mess.

  My hope is Chad won’t be here, but deep down I know that’s a long shot. He’ll be here. And my avoidance will be over.

  After that disastrous night, the next day, he’d contacted me to make sure I was okay. Because that’s the kind of man he is. There’d been something in the air, crackling over the line that hadn’t been there in all the times I’d talked to him before. Something I didn’t want to acknowledge. So I’d been polite, appreciative, but made it clear I didn’t want him to contact me again.

  He hadn’t.

  Supposedly he’s a dominant. A trait that’s become familiar to me watching Layla and her husband-to-be over the last year, and was on full display at the club that night. A trait I don’t like but somehow can’t stop being fascinated by. But there’s not one thing bossy about Chad. In fact, he’s exceedingly respectful of my wishes.

  I can’t figure out if I’m happy or disappointed about that.

  All I want is for him to stop occupying my thoughts.

  So I’d done the only thing I could think of and brought a date to the party. I’m hoping it ends my strange connection to Chad. Which is probably one-sided anyway. Since guys like him are supposed to go after what they want, and he’s been radio silent.


  I glance at my date standing next to me. Two months ago Tommy was my dream guy—wait—scratch that. He is my dream guy. A dark, scraggly haired man-child with moody chocolate eyes, a pouty mouth, and slim hips that move like the devil when he plays guitar. I was pining for him something fierce before but couldn’t snag his attention.

  In true bad-boy fashion, he’d asked me out once my infatuation moved elsewhere. We’d gone out a couple of times, usually after one of his shows where I’ve had a few drinks to convince myself I want him. After all, he’s exactly my type. But I find I’m not able to get lost in the rocker boy angst of him like I normally would. I haven’t slept with him—in fact, I’ve kind of avoided physical contact with him—and I have excuses for why that is.

  Trying to believe it has nothing to do with my last conversation with Chad where I’d confessed the dirty little secrets I’d never planned on sharing with anyone.

  Which is why I had to bring Tommy with me.

  I need the illusion that I’ve forgotten all about what happened between Chad and me. That I’ve moved on. That I never told him anything important and private.

  I’m good at illusion. It’s my specialty. I’m convinced if I can make it through this night, my smile in place, my date by my side, it will be like Valentine’s never happened.

  Once he’s out of my head, I can get back to the life where I belong. Singing in my bluesy club, hanging out with unemployed musicians, and making art for my favorite bands. Going to my day job to grind out a living before I can go slip into the night and get lost in lyrics and melodies.

  Eventually I’ll forget Chad knows things about me that nobody else does.

  Tommy puts his hand on my hip, encased in a black pencil skirt that matches my black fitted top, with tiny white skulls where polka dots should be. I look very retro-glam. My dark hair is shiny and sleek, curling over my shoulders like Lauren Bacall. My eye makeup is a smoky cat eye that plays up the bright blue of my eyes. I’ve also slicked my lips with a crimson gloss that highlights my already naturally red lips.

  I look good. Evidenced by the hungry appreciation in Tommy’s gaze, but all I care about is it provides me with much needed armor against the man I don’t want to see.

  My best friend, and bride-to-be, Layla comes running over to me, a huge smile on her beautiful face. “You’re finally here.”

  I hug her and lean back, giving her a long once over, before I whistle. “You look stunning.”

  She does. She’s beaming with happiness, her dark chestnut hair a tumble around her shoulders, her blue eyes brilliant. She’s wearing a white V-neck dress that ends demurely at her knees but hugs every one of her curves. She looks beautiful, sophisticated, and sexy.

  “Thank you,” she says, kissing me on the cheek. “So do you.”

  After a terrible tragedy that almost killed her, she’s made her way back to life and has never been happier. I can’t begrudge her that. Even if I experience unwelcome stabs of envy over the love she shares with her fiancé. Those are my problems, not hers. It’s not her fault that, unlike me, she has excellent taste in men.

  Her future husband, homicide detective Michael Banks slides up next to her, putting his big hand on her hip. Like Layla he’s dark haired, but with unusual hazel eyes that stare right into you and make you want to fidget. He’s also six-five and stunningly masculine. The kind of guy you can’t help but look at on the street.

  Together they make quite the pair.

  Michael kisses me on the cheek and says, “Glad you could make it.”

  I beam at him, so wide my cheeks ache. “I wouldn’t miss it. I’m the maid of honor.”

  “That you are,” he says before holding out his hand to my date.

  I quickly make introductions. “This is Tommy.”

  Tommy shakes Michael’s hand. “Thanks for having me.”

  At least he’s polite.

  Michael nods. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Congrats.” Tommy shakes Layla’s hand too and nods at her appreciatively. “Nice job, man.”

  Never mind. I cringe and immediately hate him.

  Layla gives me a little grimace. She’s not a fan of my choice in men.

  Michael’s palm slides possessively over Layla’s hip and he smiles. “I’m not sure I can take credit for her genetics.”

  Tommy laughs. “Killer place you’ve got here.”

  “It’s my parents.” Michael juts his head toward where the crowd is already growing. “Can we get you something to drink?”

  “You got any Jack?” Tommy asks, rubbing his ridiculously flat stomach.

  Why did I think this was a good idea? Tommy seems like a child in this crowd. Which, in fairness, he kind of is. Something that wouldn’t have bothered me before, but now grates across my nerves like sandpaper. Before I would have liked that about him. It would have made him special in some twisted way.

  At thirty-one, I’ve always been a free spirit and have no desire to settle down. I lived that life growing up and I can’t go back. I’m a minister’s daughter, raised in a loving but traditional family, that has never walked the wild side a day in their lives. Unlike my brother and sister who seemed to thrive in that environment, I was stifled by all that propriety. Every time I was required to go to another church event, shaking hands and smiling in my perfect preacher’s daughter dress, I would swear this would never become me.

  I left the second I had a chance and have never looked back. I want to be free. Free of mortgages and responsibilities and five-year plans. I don’t want to change. But it seems like I am, despite my best intentions.

  Layla grabs my wrist. “You guys go on, we’ll be there soon.”

  Michael squeezes her hip, kisses her lips and murmurs something in Layla’s ear that has her sucking in a little breath.

  Michael is also of the dominant persuasion, as is his best friend and future brother-in-law, Leo Santoro, and their other friend, Brandon Townsend III. A persuasion I knew very little about before Layla started dating Michael and now can’t seem to get away from.

  I’ve been watching them for months. The way they all prowl around their women, possessive and commanding. I know that’s what Layla and Jillian, Leo’s fiancée, want, but I can’t see the appeal. Which is yet another reason to stay away from Chad.

  The two men walk away. Tommy looks like a stiff wind will blow him over he’s so slight. Like a boy next to Michael’s man.

  Layla grins at me. “So that’s the guy, right? The one you’ve been after?”

  Had it only been two months since I was desperate for Tommy’s attention?

  A waiter passed with a tray of Champagne, and Layla stops him and grabs us two glasses.

  I take a sip. “That’s the one.”

  “He’s cute.” She lies.

  While he’s not her type, he is cute and girls go crazy for him. If you like musicians, Tommy’s a catch. But I can't quite get excited about him anymore.

  Unable to help myself I glance around the room but don’t spot him.

  I shrug. “He plays a mean bass.”

  “As long as he treats you the way you deserve, I’m happy.” Layla waves at someone and takes a drink. “It’s going to get crazy in a few, and I’m going to have to socialize, but I wanted to see how you were. I feel like we haven’t talked since I got engaged.”

  We hadn’t. I blame myself. She’s been busy with her engagement but she’s still made time to call me. I’ve been avoiding her.

  I’m jealous, of what I’m not sure, because I don’t want to get married and settle down, but it’s been eating away at me. I hate myself for it and don’t want her ever to guess while I’m desperately figuring out how to stop the feeling.

  I bite my lip. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

  Layla’s brow furrows. “You don’t have to be sorry, but you seem like something is bothering you, and I don’t know why you won’t talk to me.”

  I don’t want to bother her with my petty problems and hang-ups. Layla ha
s been through so much and she’s finally happy, I’m not willing to ruin that. I put on a bright smile. “I’m fine. I promise. Don’t worry about me. You just concentrate on being happy, okay?”

  Layla’s blue eyes narrow on me and her suspicion is etched in the corners of her mouth. “Can we do dinner next week? Just the two of us?”

  “Yes, let’s do that.” I hug her, distracting her away from studying my expression. “All we need is some girl time to cut through the crazy.”

  She laughs. “Probably. And it is crazy. So dinner.”

  “Dinner.”

  She steps back and squeezes my hand, before winking at me. “And, girl, you look hot as hell.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “Thanks.”

  “I have no idea how you pull off that look, but it’s envy worthy.”

  I know she means it. I even know it’s true. I’m just having a hard time feeling it right now. Somewhere along the way I have lost my mojo, and I don’t know how to get it back.

  So I fake it, like I fake everything else.

  Layla sighs. “Duty calls. My future mother-in-law is signaling.”

  I give her a quick hug. “Go. We’ll catch up later.”

  She takes off, leaving me alone.

  And that’s when I see him.

  He’s in the back corner of the room talking to Ashley, a friend we sometimes hang out with, who’s been after him since the second she laid eyes on him. Ashley is everything I’m not. Blonde, cute, sexy, and a huge flirt. She adores men. But more important, she adores the chase.

  She’d been chasing a guy named Trevor since college. Desperately in love with him, she’d let him use her for casual hookups whenever he’d been in the mood for easy sex. This summer, a week after Ashley went home with Trevor and convinced herself this was going to be the time she snared him for good, he’d met a “dancer”, fallen instantly in love, and kicked Ashley to the curb forever.