That’s when I am convinced that I have gone insane. Because that’s the only explanation for seeing a man who looks a lot like Logan Dean behind the tree across the street.
The paps must be so consumed with staking out my building that they never thought to look behind them. They thought Logan Dean would stroll right up to my door, did they? Pshaw. As if. Until a few minutes ago I was led to believe he didn’t even know where I lived! (Whose ass do I kick? Ashleigh’s?)
My driver pulls up and helps me get into my car. Photographers are to one side, and Logan is to the other, still keeping to the shadows. Against my instincts, I climb to the other side of the back seat and stare at him through the window. The bastard stares back. He motions to the street behind him.
I tell my driver to drop me off two blocks over and to drive elsewhere to keep the paps off my tail. If nothing else, I will get some closure with Logan. It’s time to move on from this haphazard tryst.
I get out of the car and hustle into an empty alleyway. Logan meets me there not two minutes later, appearing out of thin air.
“Fuck, you scared me,” I mutter. Then I clear my throat, because his mere presence is embarrassing me. Like I need a crazy reminder of everything’s that happened in the past two or so weeks. Wait, how long has it been again?
“Sorry about that. I really need to talk to you.”
I’m afraid to look up and meet his gaze. His closeness alone is making me lose my mind. I’m angry. Cheated. Annoyed. Sexually frustrated. Because there’s still that underlying attraction between the two of us. If I look up and face it? I’ll lose any resolve I had when I came out of my building.
At least God blessed humanity with sunglasses!
“Daphne.” He says my name in a breath, and my heart does this wild thing in my chest. Hearing my name on his lips like that… he should say it more often. It sounds damn good.
“Yes?” I remain stern. Or at least my tone is, anyway. Inside I’m wobbling.
He starts to speak several times but halts himself before the words can come spilling out. Finally, he says, “I’ve been a jerk. Sometimes it’s hard to get out of my own skin… I think you drive me a bit crazy.”
I raise my eyebrows, not bothering to say a word. Yet I use my icy gaze to implore him to continue.
“Fuck it. I don’t know.” His frustration would be cute if it weren’t for the circumstances. “I… really like you. I can’t explain it. From the moment we met, I’ve had this compulsion to push you to your limits. I realize now I went about it entirely the wrong way.”
“I’d say.”
“I’m serious. The way I think about you is completely different from any other girl…”
“Woman.”
“…Woman I’ve ever been with before. See? That’s one of the things I like about you… but I digress. I’m afraid that one day you’ll realize what a loser I am and cut me loose. So maybe I’m trying to accelerate that so it’s at least on my own terms. If I see it coming, if I make you hate me, then I never have to worry about losing you.”
For all his blubbering, there is sincerity in his voice. It moves me to remove my sunglasses and look him straight in those deep, dark eyes of his. “I don’t like being messed with.”
“So I’ve noticed.” His boyish grin returns, and holy hell would I love to smack it off him again. All that gushing about how great I am and he tries to sabotage it… again? Even so, I’d be willing to smack him if it meant a long, slow kiss from one of the only guys who can kiss me so well.
No, Daphne, keep your head here on planet Earth. “Please,” I begin, keeping him at bay with my hand. “I need you to be respectful. Or at least when we’re not fooling around.” I smile, letting him know that I’m deathly serious, but not without my humor. “I’m fine with banter…” My fingers stroke his arm. “But I like to keep my image spotless. You haven’t been helping with that. Saying things like you did at the premier…”
A sheepish tone takes over his complexion. I move my hand up his biceps, already enthralled again.
Logan leans toward me, his voice lowering. “Like what you feel? There’s more where that came from.”
I back away, shrugging. “Could do better. There’s no shortage of muscular guys when you’re as popular as I am.”
“Oh, yeah? Bet I could take on any guy who comes sniffing around you. When I decide a girl – I mean woman – is mine, then by the skies above, she is mine.” He winks. Nice try, Logan. I heard that edge in your voice. Damn.
He could give it to you really rough I bet. Lovingly rough. Is that a thing? Excuse me, conscience, but nobody invited you to this conversation.
“We’ll see.” I turn to leave. My driver is due back at any moment, and I want to get on with my day, sans Logan. Give me some time to think about this. He’s got my number, doesn’t he?
The moment I let my guard down, Logan grabs me by the arm and wraps me into his tight embrace. Holy shit. One second I have no idea what it’s like to be this close to him, and the next I’m inhaling his aftershave and spreading my hands across his chest. My thighs quiver from the impact.
“Going somewhere?” he whispers in my ear. “We’re nowhere near done… I have things I desperately need to do to you.”
He kisses me. Oh, God, do I want him to keep kissing me! His breath is so hot, his tongue so strong as it pushes into my mouth, consuming me. I’m not prepared for his teeth grazing my bottom lip when he finishes. My stomach drops; my heart quakes.
He’s found the small of my back. Now I’m being pulled closer, my whimpers muffled against his black shirt.
“More?” Logan teases, moving away a few inches. He’s doing it to torture me, I know. He wants to see the look of missed desire take over my face as I note his absence from my arms. He gets it.
I don’t have the words to respond. All I can do is pull him close to me again and attack his lips as if I haven’t kissed a man in ages. It certainly feels like it. All I want is for Logan Dean to kiss me until I don’t know how to live without him anymore. Grab me. Hold me. Tenderly kiss me and then rough up the back of my throat with this tongue of his. That’s not the only thing I want in my throat. My hand goes to his cock, and although I should feel embarrassed over stroking a man’s erection in an abandoned alley, it gives me a thrill. A part of me fantasizes about getting down on my knees and sucking him dry right here and now. The rest of me knows to save it for later, when we’re alone… in a hotel room…
Our beautiful moment is spoiled by the bright flash of a light.
“Daphne!” calls some voice I’ve never heard before. Masculine. Impatient. Go getter. “Daphne DeMarco! Look this way!” Like an idiot I do that, pushing my body from Logan’s as if I can spare us further humiliation. Nope. I’m a deer in the photographers’ flashing headlights.
The question is coming. It should be no surprise when someone immediately asks me about my father. “What will he think of this, Daphne? Isn’t your family traditional and conservative? How about your mother? Can you comment?” My heart is crashing against my ribcage as the embarrassment consumes me again. I can’t with these paps!
“What’s going on here, Daphne?” asks the first photographer. “What about your engagement? Does your father know you’re cheating on your fiancé?”
Logan pushes away from me, shock overcoming him. More questions hurl in our direction. Everything comes crashing around me. The gig is up. Now the whole world knows everything. Logan will never understand or forgive me. Daddy? Daddy’s going to be pissed.
Fuck. Fuck!
END BOOK TWO
***
Read the next book in the series!
BILLIONAIRE BAD BOY 3: TAKING THE HEIRESS
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Jenna Chase loves billionaire boyfriends as much as Cynthia Dane does. Jenna primarily writes sexy billionaire shorts while Cynthia writes full, epic romances – all set in the same billionaire universe!
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***
Vengeance
(A Kindred Sons Mafia Romance)
By Beth Wynne
Dedication
For R: my constant, my rock and my best friend. I love you. Xx
Acknowledgements
I’d really like to say a huge thank you to the patient and kind people who have helped me to get this book released into the world. I’ve met a few authors (online) who have shared advice with me and I have drawn inspiration from. I feel so lucky that our paths have crossed… perhaps I’ll get a chance to thank you in person sometime.
I really want to say a huge thank you to the people who volunteered to read my book and give me feedback. It is you, who are generous with their time, that give newbie authors like myself a glimmer of hope – that maybe, just maybe someone might enjoy the stories that unfold themselves in my head.
Thank you to you, too, for giving me, a new and unknown author a chance! By choosing this book you are supporting an indie author to take a step closer to her dream of becoming a full time writer.
Contents
Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
Beth’s Final Words
Prologue
Sarah (Bella)
“Thank you once again. I’m really excited to be starting. Yes, I’ll see you on Monday morning.” As I said my goodbyes to my new boss over the phone I made my way through the maze of cardboard boxes in the house we had shared and flicked the switch on the new kettle Toni had bought. Time for a cuppa.
Toni smiled at me as she reached into the cupboard and pulled out two mugs. We had become close in the six months we’d spent together since she had moved in. I only hoped she understood why I needed to leave her in my past when I moved.
“So tell me exactly how you’re going to get all this into my car?” she laughed.
She had a point; even after clearing out everything I could, I’d gathered more things together in the five years I’d lived here than I thought. “It’ll be fine… I think.”
“Yeah, yeah. But where are we going to fit? Are you sure you don’t want me to make two trips – it would be a lot easier? If we only put half in for the journey tomorrow morning, then I can bring the rest down again next weekend? Y’know, just take the essentials this time.” She was trying to be helpful and I honestly appreciated it. Nowhere in Northern Ireland was really further than a three hour drive, but it was bad enough allowing her to make the 200-mile round trip once, never mind twice. Especially as I barely had enough to cover the petrol money once and I still owed her my part of last month’s rent.
I looked around the place I’d called home and felt a pang of sadness to be leaving it behind. I moved here to follow the man I’d loved, and now I was moving back home to lick the wounds that same man had given me as he left.
“Hey, earth to Sarah!” Toni’s manicured hand swept past my face, the red nails catching my eyes and attention. She must have read my thoughts as her face turned serious. “This place was a stepping stone to bigger and better things. Don’t you go for one second thinking about that idiot? He’s not worth one more second of your time, honey.” She knew that this house held more memories for me than I’d like to admit. Some good, but the more recent ones were certainly less so. My hand instinctively reached across my tummy, as if touching it could take away the memories of the bruises he’d put there so many times.
I blinked away tears and was relieved to hear the sharp “click” of the kettle. With my best smile on my face, a single tear managed to betray me as it slipped down my cheek. I didn’t know whether I wiped it away before Toni noticed but as I glanced at her to check she was staring out of our kitchen window intently.
A little while later I made my excuses and went to bed. The room felt so much bigger with everything out of it. Empty and barren. Not that was ironic, I laughed wryly to myself. Seems like this room suited me after all.
I shook myself from my morbid mood and checked the time. It wasn’t too late, she would still be awake. I dialled the number from memory out of habit. I had deleted it when I realised he had started checking my phone and I never really got around to saving it into the phone again.
“Hello?” The old voice wrapped around me, soothing me.
“Hi, Grandma.” I smiled.
“Oh, Sarah. Are you ready for the big move? Do you need anything?” My Grandma was ever the practical woman; I guess it had skipped a generation.
“No, no. Everything’s ready. I just wanted to phone and say hi.”
“Now it’s not too late. Are you sure you want to move back there? You can always get a job wherever you go.”
“I’m sure.”
“Really?” she probed. She was sharper than any seventy-five year old should be.
I shook my head to myself. “Really, Grandma.” I took a deep, steadying breath. “Look, I’ve been thinking. I know I’m going back, but I’m not the same.”
“Sweetheart, you were always beautiful. You’re too skinny now if you ask me.”
“Grandma, listen, please.” I tapped the side of the bed in frustration. “That’s not what I’m getting at… I’ve decided not to call myself Sarah anymore.” I blurted.
Silence loomed over the phone.
“Grandma, the people at my new job and my new flat know my other name, my middle name… Isabelle. I’m calling myself Bella now.”
“But you are called Sarah after your mother…” The hurt in her voice was palpable.
“And I was called Isabelle after you.” And I wanted to channel the strength and grit of my grandmother. I wanted her to see that she was the woman I’d looked up to – ever since she’d taken me and my brother in. Social services would have split us up; hell would have frozen over before she would have allowed that.
“Grandma, I’m going back to be there for Ryan when he gets out… but I need to be strong. I’ve been away for almost ten years. No one is going to recognise me now, especially with my new hair.” I glanced in the mirror, trying to get used to the image that gazed back.
“And what have you done to your hair?” she demanded.
“Well, um…” suddenly I felt very nervous. “It’s not its usual colour.” I squirmed.
“And what have you done to your blonde hair, girl?” I imagined the pictures beside her chair, filled with a chubby girl with blonde hair that flowed down her back and a skinny little boy with freckles.
“It’s not blonde anymore grandma, it’s brown.” I squirmed as I heard the sharp intake of breath over the phone. I couldn’t go back now and tell her I had cut it into a bob too.
“So… my beautiful blonde haired granddaughter, Sarah is gone and Bella, my brunette haired granddaughter has taken her place?” She was thinking. “And would this mean that Bella and Sarah would both be safe and happy?�
��
“Yes, Gran.”
“Bella.” She said it like she was trying out the name. “I think I understand now why you’ve done it, Sar… Bella. He won’t find you, you can still be there for Ryan’s parole, and you hope no one will link you with the frightened and angry girl who left Londonderry at 15?” My grandma was smart.
“That’s pretty much it, Grandma,” I confessed.
“Well, why didn’t you say so dear? I’m honoured you chose to keep my name, dear, but did you really have to do that to your hair?” A weight lifted from my shoulders… until I realised I hadn’t told her exactly how short I’d cut my real hair.
Jake
“You need to get a fucking grip, Nev! That blonde has you whipped.” and for once, I agreed with Mathew’s taunts. They had been wingmen for each other for years and now that Nevan had started getting serious his latest woman, it had cut into their nightly hookups with anything female that had a pulse.
“Don’t you know I need your ugly face to be beside mine when I go out? You make me look irresistible to women. Will you at least ask if you’re allowed to come and play with the boys tonight rather than sit at home playing house?”
“Oh, I don’t think he’ll ask,” I said as I walked into the changing room, smiling inwardly as I noticed they all reacted to my presence. “How can he ask that if he hasn’t been able to ask if he can have his balls back?”
I Need A Bad Boy: A Collection of Bad Boy Romances Page 45
