by Unknown
Addiction
Magnetic Desires
Misti Murphy
Copyright © 2015 by Misti Murphy
Edited by Tami Lund
Cover Design by Double J Graphics
Copyrights
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real events, people, or places is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any format without the permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review. If you have not purchased this book from Amazon or received a copy from the author, you are reading a pirated book.
This book may contain mature content, sensitive subject matter, filthy language, and nuts. If you find yourself suffering adverse reactions such as; inability to sleep, cravings, sensitivity to heat, or carpal tunnel syndrome please feel free to contact the advice line at [email protected]
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Please do not continue reading if you are under the age of 18 or if this type of content is disturbing to you.
Table of Contents
About This Book
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
Mailing List
Other Books
Excerpt
Acknowledgments
About the Author
About this book
Birdie Lance isn’t a victim. She’s an idiot who let a boy get too close. At least that’s how she sees it. It's easy to not make the same mistake again — she doesn’t let anyone in anymore.
After the accident, Dr Drake Barclay threw himself into his obstetrics practice, and uses boxing to keep the demons at bay. A recovering addict, he is barely existing, until he meets the bombshell who pushes all his buttons.
Two people coping with the traumatic scars of their past find an irresistible bond that may just heal them both.
Dedication
To the star who burned too bright,
may you find your peace in the darkness.
You are missed.
Chapter One
Drake
I tossed the small yellow tube up in the air and dialed Will’s number. Staring at the little round pills, I shook the bottle once or twice while I waited for him to pick up. How long had it been since the last time I’d made this call? Was it nine, or maybe ten months?
"Hey, man." Will’s voice echoed into the apartment from where my phone sat on the counter. "What’s going on?"
I leaned against the counter, the tension uncoiling in my shoulders at his level tone. "I lost a patient today."
"Shit," Will said, and I could hear him moving about his sardine-sized apartment. "So, I’m guessing you’re not calling because you miss me."
I glanced at the bottle in my hand and walked around the counter to dump the pills in the trash. "I’m doing okay... better now."
"Good," Will said in that slow smooth way he had. "Do you need to talk about what happened?"
I picked up my phone and took it with me into the bedroom. "She’d had complications with a previous birth, but we were prepared. I told her and her husband…" I shoved my hand through my hair, "…not to worry. That everything would go smoothly. She started bleeding out. A blood condition we hadn’t found in our tests. There was nothing we could do. It happened so fast."
"You didn’t give up though, knowing you."
"No, but how do you tell a man he’s lost his wife? How do you tell him he has to go home without her?"
"I don’t know, man. I don’t know how you do it."
"Sometimes I don’t either but Hailey…"
"Hailey would have been proud of you."
I wasn’t so sure.
"So what are you going to do?"
I pondered the question while I crouched to look under the bed. My gym bag sat unused. Pulling it out, I wiped away the thin layer of dust that had settled on it. "I’m going back to boxing."
His smile came through clear in his next words. "You’ve come a long way, Drake. Just remember these moments will pass. Maybe, go to a meeting."
I shouldered my bag and headed for the door. Sober for almost five years, the days of struggling to get through twenty-four hours at a time were further and further apart. Need no longer crawled through my veins the way it used to, but one slip up would be enough to destroy the life I’d rebuilt and take me back into hell. "Thanks Will. I’m doing all right. Next time I call it’ll be to say hello."
Will chuckled. "That’s cool, man. I get you’re busy saving the future generation."
"I’ll talk to you soon," I said, locking the door of my apartment.
"Until next time."
I smirked, knowing that Will had tipped an invisible hat at me as he hung up. Ending the call, I shoved the phone in my back pocket and stepped into the elevator.
The muscles in the back of my neck were tight and I rubbed them to loosen the knots. I hadn’t been able to save the patient this morning, and I hadn’t been able to save Hailey all those years ago. In two months, it would be ten years since I lost her. The memory of her floated to the surface.
***
She pulled the thin white sheet up under her arms and rolled onto her side, resting her head on her hand. The sun filtered through the blinds, adding to the lustrous shine of her dark locks. Tugging the loose wave that hung over her shoulder, I wound it around and around my finger. "You’re so goddamn beautiful."
She was radiant; her hazel eyes shining as she climbed over me. "You make me so happy, Drake."
She lowered her head to mine and the smell of her coconut shampoo danced in my nose. I breathed her in, intoxicated by her. Tightening my hold on that tendril of hair, I pulled her closer, and she giggled a peal of pure joy as she nibbled at my lips. My hand on the back of her neck, I brought her closer. "I can’t wait to have our own place, just you and me, baby. I can’t wait to make you scream."
"Actually, I have something to tell you." She beamed.
***
Squeezing my eyes shut, I locked away one of the few precious memories I could still remember. I hadn’t been in a relationship since Hailey. She couldn’t be replaced, and I didn’t want to try. The elevator doors parted and I stepped into the parking garage.
Since I’d moved to Reverence, I’d let go of the routines that had kept me sane. It had taken a while to settle in, and then I’d spent so much time at work I hadn’t had time for much else. The few lonely hours in between, I’d occupied with women who were interested in what I could give them in bed. Tonight though, I was swapping women for boxing.
I stalked over to my motorcycle and stowed my bag. I couldn’t let it go any longer. I needed to get back into routine. Pulling my helmet on, I started up the bike. The motor growled as I scooted out of the car park and down the exit ramp.
I sped the few short blocks from my apartment to the gym I’d looked up. From outside, I could hear the rhythmic thump of fists meeting bags, and I slid off the bike. Will had introduced m
e to the ring way back at the beginning of our friendship, and I’d gotten hooked. The same rush of adrenaline that came with my fist connecting with another man’s flesh coursed through me now.
I clenched and released my hands. Taking a beating of my own had been like a drug in its own way. The sting and ache in my flesh numbed my brain and helped to push the memories away. In those first few weeks of soberness when withdrawal had been an insatiable itch in my veins, boxing had made it that little bit easier to deal with. That feeling was what I needed tonight.
The girl behind the desk sported a red and black singlet with Tom’s Gym printed across the back in white lettering. I rapped my knuckles on the desk once to get her attention, and she slipped a file back into the cabinet before coming over to the counter.
"I want to sign up."
Her gaze traveled over me, and her lips parted a little in a gape. I winked and gave her a wry grin. Running her hands down the side of her shirt, she darted her tongue out over her top lip in open invitation. I hadn’t planned on doubling up my workout, but it would be easy to get a session in and then convince her to let me take her home for the night.
Leaning over, she retrieved a new file and opened it up. "You need to fill this in."
"Thanks." I scooped up a pen and started filling in the paperwork, while covertly running my gaze over her. She had a classic face, with wide brown eyes and plump lips. Her raven hair pulled up in a bun sat high on her head, and she showed off firm muscular legs in black shorts. How flexible would she be? I pushed the file back toward her. "Do you mind if I have a look around?"
She glanced at the file, and waved her hand in the direction of the door that led into the main room. "Go for it. I’ll enter your information into the system, Drake."
The way she drew my name out on a breath had me imagining how it would sound when she screamed it out later.
Sauntering over to the door, I stepped inside the main gym area. The smell of sweat hung in the air, and I propped myself against the wall as I drank it in. Why had it taken me so long to get back to boxing? Two boxers danced around the ring as they each tried to score hits against their opponent, and I found myself tapping my fingers against my leg in impatience.
A movement on my left caught my attention, and I let out a low whistle as I took in the girl working over her bag. Her light brown hair swung low in a ponytail against her back, but hadn’t escaped the sweat that ran down her face and neck and caused her skin to glisten. My gaze glued to her, I watched her throw jab after jab at the bag. She grunted and used her glove to wipe the sweat from her face before she continued. The girl at the desk was no longer appealing. I wanted to have at the pint sized bombshell in front of me. Her control barely hid the volatility that shimmered beneath the surface, and I wanted her to work me over with the same intensity she used on the bag.
Birdie
I jabbed the bag again, and the chain holding it from the ceiling creaked. The bag swayed gently while I wiped a glove across my forehead. Sweat ran in a rivulet down the straps of my top, and I flicked my tongue along my lips to swipe the moisture away. The taste of salt invaded my mouth as I bounced on the balls of my feet and punched the bag a couple more times.
Despite the exhaustion that stole through my muscles, leaving me an aching mess of jelly, I found the process of physical control exhilarating. It was the only time I could truly be myself. The only decision I had to make was how to hit the bag. Over the past six months I’d built strength, but more importantly I’d learned how to deal with the men at the gym. Something I never thought I would be able to do.
When I had first walked into the gym, I’d stared at the floor while Tom showed me around. My heart had pattered an off kilter beat when the gym went silent and all the men stopped what they were doing. Their gazes on me had almost been too much, and I’d thought about leaving and forgetting the whole idea. But, I’d come to feel stronger and to deal with my demons. Boxing had given me so much more.
Now, the others barely noticed me, and if they did, they treated me as one of their own, as one of the guys. The room echoed with the thumps of fists hitting bags, and in the center ring, of fists hitting flesh.
Peeling off my gloves, I dumped them on the mat before reaching for my water bottle. I drank half the contents and tossed it back in my bag, along with the gloves. Arms over my head, fingertips to shoulder blade, I cupped my elbow with my other hand and concentrated on the burn in my muscles.
When my brother Orion had first found out about what happened he’d been angry, and I didn’t blame him. I’d been foolish and put myself in a position for trouble. It didn’t matter to me that I’d been fourteen. I’d learned my lesson. People couldn’t be trusted and neither could I.
Now, I questioned every decision I made and refused to do anything that would put me in a situation I couldn’t control. Looking at my brother and his wife and how much he'd gone through to get her to trust him, I wished I was brave enough to take the risk. My control was a prison, except when I was boxing. Once I walked out of the gym, I’d walk the same damn tight rope I’d been walking for the past ten years.
Switching arms, I repeated the stretch. Tom waved at me from behind the ring, and I wiggled my fingers at him. Not much older than I was, he’d lived life in a way I’d avoided. As the owner of the gym, he'd gone out of his way from my first visit, to make sure I was comfortable in the testosterone filled environment. He’d watched out for me when I started, making sure the men left me alone and teaching me how to box.
He’d taught me how to stand and how to pivot. Then he’d shown me how to throw a hook and to jab, and patiently worked with me, until I’d gotten the moves down. In six months, I’d learned how to throw a mean uppercut, and my roundhouse kick was so graceful, I looked like a damn ballerina. I’d learned how to hold my own against the men who I trained with, yet I’d never stepped into the center ring despite Tom’s constant cajoling. The idea of being the main attraction, of the guys stopping their sparring and bag work to watch me, made my stomach curdle. I shook out my arms and picked up my bag, hoisting it onto my shoulder. With a parting nod at Tom, I headed toward the exit.
A man leaned on the door frame, and his gaze tracked me as I made my way toward him. His lips twitched as he dropped his gaze to my feet and ran it up over me. A shiver went up my spine at his blatant perusal of my body, but it wasn’t entirely from disgust. My heart skipped a beat, knowing I would have to brush past him to leave, if he didn’t move. Dipping my gaze, I took halting steps, and then, I lifted my chin. He was another boxer at the gym. That was all. Someone new, who I'd get used to given time.
Keeping my gaze steady, I strode toward him. The man rivaled Tom for tattoos. His V-neck shirt hung loosely on him and showed the ink that ran from his chest to his elbows. How much of the skin under his shirt did they cover? I scowled as the odd thought drew my gaze over him. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, which only added to his appeal and kind of made me wish it was my own. Piercing blue eyes crinkled in the corners as I took a step to the left so I wouldn’t run into him on my way out the door. Crossing his arms over his chest, he cocked his head in acknowledgment of my move and his mouth tugged up on one side.
I pressed my lips together, ignoring the way my cheeks flamed and my own mouth wanted to mirror his. That intense gaze of his hadn't left me at all as I crossed the room, and I didn’t want to give him any reason to talk to me. Aiming my best scowl at him, I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder, then cast my gaze to the floor. Five more steps and I’d have passed him. Four more steps and he’d made no effort to move. Three more steps and—
"Hello."
How could such a simple word be both sexy and dangerous at the same time? Faltering, I darted a glance at him. Big mistake. I could tell he was chuckling by the gentle rumble that emitted from his throat when my gaze snapped to his, but it was his eyes up close that caught my attention. With his gaze locked on mine, I couldn’t drag myself away from him. Caught in a maelstrom o
f thoughts and sensations that didn’t make sense, the world faded away in the background, and all the while, he stared at me with absolute calm. I told myself to pull away, to drop my gaze and run, but my brain wasn’t in control. He was. Blink, damn it. His gravity pulled me closer, tilting my head back to keep the connection.
Straightening up, he grazed my arm with his fingers as he lowered his head a fraction.
"Hey, Birdie, you okay?" Tom’s voice broke through the haze of attraction, and I glanced in his direction. I took a breath, and my lungs welcomed the oxygen they'd been deprived of while under the stranger's thrall. Shaking my head, I backed away from him.
"Uh, yeah. I have to go." I hurried past him, and he called out behind me, causing me to falter for a split second. His pull on me continued even with my back turned, and I bolted out of the gym to my car.
My fingers trembled as I tried to unlock the door. What the hell had just happened? I felt like I’d been too close to the fire and then drenched in ice water. Once inside the car, I sat for a moment as I fought to stop from shaking. I knew what I’d felt, but I had not been prepared for the force of it. The crippling gut wrenching agony of wanting something so bad I could taste it.
I shook my head, trying to clear him from it, and drove out of the parking lot. It would be okay. I’d make sure I didn’t get that close to him again. After all, I hadn’t seen him before. There was no reason for me to run into him again. Perhaps, he wouldn’t even come back to the gym, but it wouldn’t hurt to talk to Tom and find out if he was a regular. My heart still skittered with the effects of the adrenaline that had shot through me when I’d been so close to him.
There was no other choice, but to find out when he boxed and avoid him. My jaw ached, and I stretched it out, wriggling it to loosen the tension headache that was building. Damn him for making the one place I could loosen up into the most dangerous place I could be. I slapped my hand against the steering wheel. I didn’t want to change for anyone, but he’d sucked me in so easily, I couldn’t risk a repeat. If I ran into him again I might not be so lucky, because I had the feeling he could talk me into anything. And the last thing I needed was anything else to regret.
