by Jani Kay
* * *
The next morning, I say goodbye to Jett at my front door and then head back inside. He stayed over last night and gave me another reason why I should date him. The man has mad skills in the bedroom, and I’m looking forward to seeing him again.
I shower and get ready for the day. I’ve got a full day ahead of me, editing more photos from the Crave concert shoot. As I sit down to get started, there’s a knock at my front door. A minute later, my happy bubble bursts when I find my husband standing on the other side of the door.
"Presley," he says while taking a step inside.
I put my arm up to block him, and he comes to a halt, clearly stunned I would deny him access.
"No, Lennon, you don’t get to come inside. What do you want?"
"I told you I was coming home," he says as if that answers my question.
"This isn’t your home. Not anymore."
"My name is still on the deed."
"Oh my god! That means jack shit, asshole. You walked out, so it’s not your home."
"I made a mistake, Presley."
"Yeah, you did, but it corrected the mistake I made when I married you, so let’s call it even."
"I want to come home, baby." His voice has that soft tone he uses when he wants something from me, but it won’t work anymore. A year ago, I would have given him anything he wanted when he spoke to me this way. I’ve since learnt my lesson.
"No. And don’t call me that anymore."
His face tells me he wasn’t expecting this. He must have expected me to roll over and give him whatever he wanted, just like everyone else in his life does. "I’ll give you the baby you always wanted." He promises me the one thing that came between us the most when we were together.
Anger mixes with pain, and I’m done. "Fuck you, Lennon. You can’t worm your way back into my life with shit like that. Yeah, I wanted a baby with you, but you never wanted that, so don’t come here now and make bullshit promises to get what you want in return. I don’t want a baby with you anymore." I spit my words at him and then move to close the door in his face.
He puts a foot inside to stop the door from closing. "I’m not giving up on us, Presley," he promises, and I see the determination on his face. Shit, he means this, and when Lennon wants something, he does everything to get it. I do not need this in my life. Not when I’ve finally decided to start something with Jett.
"Goodbye," I say and shove his foot out of the way so I can slam the door shut. Once I have the door closed, I sag against it.
Shit.
I hope he gives up, but I know he won’t. Not until he’s exhausted all avenues.
Fuck.
* * *
I look at the room I’ve just stepped into. It’s a fundraising event for breast cancer research, and it’s decorated in pink and white. They’ve pulled out all the stops with balloons, flowers, candles, and pretty party lights everywhere. It’s like a magical wonderland, and I stare in awe. I wish I had my camera with me; I could get some amazing photos of all this.
Jett pulls me close and murmurs against my ear, "Thank you for coming tonight."
He called me four hours ago and asked me to come. I didn’t hesitate to say yes. Smiling at him, I say, "Any excuse to wear a party dress."
"I’ll remember that," he promises while scanning the room. His gaze settles on the bar. "I’m gonna go get some drinks. What would you like?"
"Surprise me with a cocktail."
He nods. "Will do. You’ll be right at the table with the boys?"
"Absolutely. I’m looking forward to hanging out with them tonight."
"Good. They’re looking forward to it, too."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. They like you. Told me not to fuck it up."
I turn to face him and loop my hands around his neck. He bends to give me a quick kiss, and when we pull apart, I say, "I’m so happy I decided to go on a date with you, Jett Vaughn."
"Me too, sweetheart. You’ve no idea just how happy."
I like his honesty, and the fact he doesn’t hesitate to make himself vulnerable to me.
"Okay, go. If you get enough cocktails in me tonight, you might get your way with me later."
"Really? I think your sex addiction would guarantee me that without cocktails."
"Yeah, yeah," I mutter. He’s totally right. I shove him gently. "Go."
He gives me one last sexy grin and then leaves. I admire him as he walks away. Jett’s wearing a suit tonight and looks so hot I’m sure we’ll have to leave early so I can satisfy my addiction.
"Presley!"
I turn to find West motioning for me to join the rest of the band at the table. I’m surprised none of them brought a date tonight. I’m the only woman in the group. I make my way over to them and take a seat.
"Looking good, babe," West says, his eyes gazing appreciatively at my body for a moment. I’m wearing a fitted, floor-length black evening dress, that has gorgeous beading over the thin straps and a long slit that ends mid thigh. Jett’s eyes almost bulged out of his head when he picked me up.
"Fuck, West, don’t. The last thing we need is Jett losing his shit tonight," Hunter warns him.
I eye West. "Thank you for the compliment but I think Hunter’s right. Let’s not rile Jett up tonight."
"I know I’ve said it before, but I fucking like you, Presley. You say it like it is," West says.
Van’s been lounging in his chair, an angry glare fixed on his face. But he looks at me now and asks, "Has Jett convinced you to photograph our next tour yet?"
"We haven’t really discussed it."
"You should consider it. Your photography is fucking amazing. We’d be lucky to have you." It’s the nicest he’s been to me so far, and I’m floored by his kind words.
"Thank you," I say to him, and he nods and then goes back to his angry glaring. I’m thinking Van’s a man of little words.
I chat with West and Hunter for another couple of minutes before excusing myself to go to the ladies’ room. When I arrive there, the line is five deep, and I kill time by texting Erin.
Me: At charity event with Jett. You should see him in a suit…
Erin: Shut it. Don’t tell me any more bitch.
Me: LOL
Erin: You heard from your asshole husband again?
Me: Not since he showed at my door two days ago.
Erin: Good. Sorry, gotta go chick. Talk to you later xx
Me: Night xx
I finally reach the end of the line, and five minutes later, I’m heading back out to the table. The sight I’m greeted with when I get there takes me aback. Lennon’s here and he and Van are going head to head over something. Both men are furious about whatever it is.
"You wouldn’t know the meaning of fucking loyalty," Van spits at Lennon.
"She told me you two were over. How the fuck was I to know she was lying?"
"It’s called friendship, motherfucker. We were friends, and you don’t do that to a friend. You don’t fuck his fiancée behind his fucking back."
"Do you fucking listen, Van? I didn’t know you were still together."
"Yeah, well, it’s not good enough. You should have asked me, not her. She wasn’t your fucking friend, I was."
Jett steps in to try and break them apart because they look like they’re at the point where fists could start flying any minute. "Van, leave it. He’s not fucking worth it."
Van’s eyes are wild when he looks at Jett. "I told you coming tonight was a bad fucking idea."
Jett directs his attention to Lennon. "You need to leave. Now."
Lennon shifts his gaze and stops when he sees me. "Presley? What the hell are you doing here?"
Jett swings around to look between Lennon and me. "You know this asshole?" he demands.
"Yes."
Before I can explain myself further, Lennon says, "She’s my wife, asshole. Get your fucking eyes off her."
Jett looks like he’s about to explode with anger. "What the fuck?" he r
oars at no one in particular, and I’m not sure if he’s directing that at Lennon or me.
Shit, this is a clusterfuck.
"I was your wife," I correct Lennon.
"You still are," Lennon says.
"On paper only. Give me six months, and I’ll rectify that."
Jett interrupts us. Looking at Lennon, he says, "Like I said, you need to fucking leave."
I nod in agreement and Lennon assesses the situation for a moment before finally doing what Jett suggested.
Van glares at him until he can’t see him anymore and then he says, "Fuck it, Jett, I’m out. Sorry man, but I can’t be in the same room as him or I will fucking punch him, and that’s the last thing we need." His face is a mask of anger and apology.
Jett nods. "Yeah, you’re right. You should go."
Van doesn’t wait around and a moment later he’s gone, and I’m left with Jett staring at me. He’s still angry but there’s a calmness to it now. "You’re married to Lennon?" He’s incredulous and I don’t blame him. I haven’t mentioned my marriage at all.
"Yes."
"Why didn’t you tell me?"
"We split up six months ago, and I’m done with him. I’m just waiting for the year to be up so I can file for divorce. I don’t consider myself married anymore."
His chest heaves and he seems relieved with that answer. "Thank fuck."
I move to where he is and lay a hand on his chest. "I promise there’s nothing left there," I say softly.
He grabs my waist and pulls me into his space. "I believe you, sweetheart. I’m more surprised by the fact I’ve known Lennon for years but I’ve not once met you. I knew he was married but never knew who to. How the fuck did you guys work it that way? If you were my wife, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight."
"He didn’t want me on tour with him and because I was busy with my work, he had no trouble selling that to me. It hurt, though." My voice cracks on my last few words, and Jett wraps me in his arms.
"Fuck," he mutters. "He’s an asshole, baby. You’re better off without him."
"I know," I mumble into his body. "But he’s told me he’ll do anything to get me back, and when Lennon wants something, he’ll do anything to get it."
Jett lets me go enough to look down into my eyes. There’s a fierce determination in his. "So will I, Presley, and I want you. If Lennon thinks he can come back and pick up where he left off, he can fucking think again. You’re mine now, not his."
Keep An Eye Out For All Your Reasons #2 Coming Soon
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ABOUT NINA LEVINE
Nina Levine is an Aussie writer who writes stories about hot, alpha men and the tough, independent women they love.
When she isn’t creating with words, she loves to create with paint and paper. Often though, she can be found curled up with a good book and some chocolate.
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Storm MC Series
In Order:
Storm (Storm MC #1)
Fierce (Storm MC #2)
Blaze (Storm MC #2.5)
Revive (Storm MC #3)
Havoc Series
Destined Havoc (Havoc #1)
Coming Soon
Slay (Storm MC #4) – 21st November 2014
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to thank the authors I worked with on the Owned Anthology that All Your Reasons was written for. It’s been an amazing journey so far and I can’t wait for the anthology to release. Jani Kay, thanks for being you and suggesting this idea in the first place. Without you, this wouldn’t even be happening. I’ve loved working with all the authors on this anthology but I do need to give a shout out to Lyra for doing the formatting – you rock!! And Lilliana for all your time designing the website and graphics….sometimes more than once! Nothing was ever a trouble for either of you ladies and I am so very thankful for the time you put in.
To my beta readers – Melanie, Christina, Paula, Amanda & Becca – thank you so much ladies! Your feedback was invaluable and I truly appreciate the time you gave me to do it.
To Jenny at Editing 4 Indies. Wow, this is the first time we’ve worked together and I need to say a HUGE thank you for doing it at the last minute for me. You made the process so easy and I am very thankful.
To my friends and family… thank you for being patient with me while I have ignored you to get this book done. I love you.
To my PA and friend, Melanie Sassymum, thank you for everything you do for me. You help keep me sane in the madness of it all, babe. I love you for it all.
To my Stormchasers. I hope you love Jett as much as you love our bikers! He doesn’t have the asshole in him that they do but I kinda love that about him. Thank you for all your support, encouragement and most importantly, your friendship. I would be lost without you, ladies!
To Louisa, my gorgeous cover designer, you always make the process so easy and come up with the perfect cover pretty much first go every time. I love working with you and am so thankful to have you as my designer.
To bloggers, thank you so very much for everything you do to help me. You ladies have hearts of gold!
To my readers! Thank you for reading my books and I hope you loved Jett as much as I do.
LOVE ON WALL STREET SERIES
DEBONAIR: Part 1
Jani Kay
Copyright 2014 JANI KAY
All Rights Reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Artist: Louisa Maggio
Edited by: Lauren McKellar
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes, copied, or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except for brief quotations embodied for reviews.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.
If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
WARNING:
Adult content: Sexual Situations & Language
Recommended 18 +
DEDICATION
To Andrea — my own Little Miss Sunshine.
Thank you for inspiring me, for believing in me and for always trusting in me.
You never fail to make me smile and feel good about life. When I count my blessings, I count you twice if not more. You are the best daughter any mother could wish for.
Follow your dreams, believe in yourself and never settle for less.
I love you to the moon and back.
Always.
DEBONAIR: PART 1 BY JANI KAY
1 - Tyler
Chase Spencer sauntered into my impressive new office to give his nod of approval. He whistled as he ran a hand over the back of the new furniture that had only arrived that morning. "Fuck, you’ve gone all out this time, Sinclair. Red leather?"
"Only the best will do, old chap." I mocked, pleased that my eclectic taste impressed him.
Spencer, my supposed best friend—in reality my prime rival—five years my senior at the firm and the occupant of the other corner office, knew me better than anyone else. It wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
He opened the drawer of the side table closest to the sofa and inspected
the contents.
"Even new toys." Spencer marveled as he ran the soft leather strings of the flogger through his fingers then smacked it against the leather armrest. He quirked an eyebrow. "Anyone in mind?" He examined the rest of the items in the drawer, then shifted his gaze to mine waiting for an answer.
I chuckled softly. I was a man who liked new things—old bored me. I worked hard and I played even harder. I took my rewards without apology.
"Yeah. The redhead. Ms. Oaks has a banging body." I grinned, imagining her bent over the couch.
Spencer grinned. "Mind if I join you? I’ve wanted to smack that ass since I first laid eyes on her."
"You mean you haven’t yet?" I narrowed my eyes as I studied him, then nodded. "Sure. I’ll give you a call when I have her set up."
He crossed his arms over his chest. "Good. I’ll be waiting. It’s been a while."
"It’ll be soon." I smiled as visions of the possibilities ran through my mind.
Chase and I had done a few threesomes before. It added to the smorgasbord of delights to be had. Even though I’d only met her two days ago, the redhead seemed capable of handling the pair of us. The luxurious office was designed for work and fun, and I looked forward to begin this new chapter of my life as an executive.
"Congrats on making it to the top floor." He sounded sincere although he didn’t extend his arm to shake my hand.
I nodded, a wry smile twisting the corners of my lips. "Thanks. Wasn’t always easy." That’s a fucking understatement.
For eleven years I’d slogged my ass off at McAdams & Williams Investments, the best brokerage firm on Wall Street, working ridiculous hours so I could climb the ladder rapidly.
This was it. Spencer and I were in the final leg of the race—both of us gunning to make partner now that McAdams had died. I frowned. Chase’s Ivy League education and tenure placed him in the lead, but that wasn’t going to stop me. Hell no. If anything it spurred me on to work harder to reach my dream.
