Lavish Love: A Second Chance Romance (Blazin' Love Book 9)

by Ja'Nese Dixon

  I should have blocked him a long time ago. But I got comfortable. We travel in the same social circle. We shared some of the same interests. We had something once, but apparently that was a lie too. I mean, how special can I be if he’s sending dick pics to women?

  “So, you and Lewis don’t have a hot date tonight?” Harper asks pulling me out of my unhealthy thoughts.

  “Nah, he’s doing him, and I’m doing me. Tonight’s about us helping you find a man.” I see the tears glistening in her eyes. “Harper, one day you’ll find a man who appreciates you for the amazing woman you are. Then you’ll be glad you kicked he who shall remain nameless’ no good ass to the curb.”

  “Under the curb,” Charlee snapped. Harper’s tight smile isn’t fooling me, as she brushes away a tear the moment it leaves her eye.

  “No more tears Harper. Tonight, we’re going to Brew & Boujee. Get ready to have some fun and have too many drinks!” I joke trying to cheer her up. I’m determined to sit through a million blind dates to see her smile.

  Harper is a good one, she increases our average. She’s the swan waiting to show her full potential, and that bastard will roast in hell. Guaranteed.

  So, tonight is not about me or Lewis, tonight is for Harper. Lewis is a liar. I know it. He knows it. His deception came as no surprise. And now, I’m a walking, talking billboard used by old school R&B songs as evidence of how hard it is for a good woman to find a good man. Because that dog bit me in my ass again, so now the joke’s on me for forgiving him again. Thanks to Lewis, love is not on my agenda.

  “I want the drinks and the men.” Charlee tipped a glass in our direction.

  Sounds like I’m not the only one nursing a cracked heart or a bruised ego. I think it’s more of the latter. I didn’t love Lewis, maybe it was the prospect of love I loved. Harper raises an eyebrow in my direction but neither of us asks questions about Charlee’s tipsy state, I guess we’ve learned to coexist in our own worlds. And I’m thankful. Most people would consider us shallow, or self-centered. I like that we support each other without being all up in each other’s business, besides I’m not ready to share my blues either. Not until I can explain how I keep finding myself back here, with another no good, gorgeous, rich, shallow, douche of a man.

  Charlee is entertaining us with another one of her hookups gone wrong. I climb the stairs in my closet and place my phone on the island. The first floor holds my everyday clothes, shoes, and accessories. The second floor is where I store my glam.

  The far wall holds my evening gowns, cocktail dresses, and formal attire. The island is full of jewelry and all the knick-knacks that make dressing up elegant and fun. I scan the area in front of me, trying to decide where to start my search. I need an outfit to make a statement.

  My girls are baddies, always dressed to impress. Plus there’s a chance I’ll see Lewis tonight. I push the clothes around searching for my best f’him outfit.

  “I’m down for this trip. Anything to get away from my nagging parents,” Charlee adds finally taking a breath. “That’s the one Hunt.”

  I stop sliding the last hanger back. “Red on Valentine’s Day is cliché and you know that’s not my style.”

  “Yeah, maybe on someone else but not on you,” Harper says.

  I pull the dress down, turning the phone towards the ceiling to floor mirror. I inspect the tag. The crimson bodycon dress fit me like a glove in the swank Austin boutique. I shrug holding it against me. The spaghetti straps compliment my brown skin. The deep v-neck neckline means I have to go braless to pull it off. The knee length is the only tame feature. It’s definitely a statement dress, leaving little to the imagination.

  “Hunter.”

  “I’m in here Daddy," I call over my shoulder. “We’ll talk at S&J," I tell Charlee and Harper.

  “What time is the reservation?”

  “Now for your late tail,” Harper teases Charlee.

  “Whatever! Perfection takes time ladies.”

  “The speed dating starts at seven. We need to get there early to get the best seats,” I tell them. This argument is the center of their existence, Harper is always early, Charlee is always late.

  “Which means, Charlee, sweetheart, if you want a man, you need to get there on time.” I laugh glad to see Harper’s spunk coming back.

  “You know what Harper Anne,” Charlee adds a country twang to her voice, “you can shove it where the sun don’t—”

  “Hunter, what is this?” I jump startled by my father at the top of the stairs. He is waving a sheet of paper in the air. I roll my eyes glancing back at my phone.

  “All right later dudes. I’ll see y’all in a few. Save me a seat.”

  We say our goodbyes and hang up. I drop to the couch beside the island facing him. The frown on my Daddy’s face tells me he’s gearing up for a lecture.

  “Hey Daddy, how was your day?” My heart rate spikes at seeing his handsome face twisted in disappointment. I paste a smile on my face aiming for my best sweet-as-pie grin to cancel out the scowl on his.

  My parents joke that I’m their perfect creation. I have my mother’s alluring eyes and pouty lips. But I’m my father’s twin, from my brown skin to my taller than average height. I have his slightly wide nose and his smile. A smile I use like a Black AmEx to gain access to anywhere and anything. However, proves defective tonight.

  “Hunter we need to talk, now. Meet me in my office.”

  This is bad. I don’t mind pissing people off, but not Daddy. He holds the keys to this mansion, and quite honestly I care what he thinks even though he has a tendency to overreact.

  “Can we talk later? The girls and I have reservations,” I offer hoping to give him time to cool off, to rethink whatever is scattering around that head of his.

  He lets out a heavy sigh. “Five minutes Hunt.” Then he stalks off.

  I grab my phone. What have I done to bring this on? I search my mind coming up empty-handed. Let me lay my clothes out and then go see what he wants.

  I grab a pair of stilettos and toss them on the floor. I open a drawer finding earrings, a necklace, and I push around my rings looking for my favorite chunky ring for my middle finger. I lay them out on top of the island. That should cut down the time I need to get ready. I can’t be late.

  I leave my room walking through the house towards Daddy’s office. Our house is quiet, as the staff moves around invisible. The only sound I hear is my shuffling slides. I lightly tap on his door.

  “Have a seat.” Daddy rubs the back of his neck, turning in his chair. He’s in his high back leather chair behind a desk large enough to seat at least six people. He leans forward resting his hands on top. The pose would seem harmless if I didn’t see steam rising from his ears.

  “What is it, Daddy? You’re scaring me.”

  “Hunter, I’m at my wits end with you.” He runs a hand over his face, letting out a deep sigh. My father is the soft one of my parents. He doesn’t raise his voice. He’s reasonable. He’s level headed. All I have to do is smile and apologize, and he’ll hide my dead bodies from the world, even my mother.

  “Whatever it is, I’m sorry Daddy.” Blink. Blink. I add a good batting of my lashes for good measure.

  “Baby, I don’t believe you.”

  “What?” I hold my breath until my lungs burn, screaming for relief.

  “Things have got to change around here.” His hands steeple in front of him, and my heart drops. He lifts a sheet of paper tossing it in my direction. I pick it up from the desk, and immediately I hear the sounds of crashing metal against metal in my head, like a thousand car pileup.

  “You approved the trip.” Sort of. I can’t whisper the truth that I had to top my last trip. The pressure of every event being compared to the last is real.

  “Hunter Josephine Preston, where do you get off spending six figures on a vacation?”

  Oh shit, this is serious. When Black parents use your first, middle, and last name, shit is about to hit the fan.

  �
�Where are you going, to the moon first class?”

  “No, I thought I’d take a little celebratory vacation with my friends.” I scan the sheet of paper. The private jet, the yacht, the private resort, and the red ink circled around the grand total. I feel sweat gathering under my armpits. “I got a good deal.”

  I say the words as I put the receipt back on his desk. But they’re a lie too. I didn’t ask for the numbers. I said what I wanted and gave Daddy’s credit card number.

  “Hunter I bust my ass to give you this life. And you don’t get it.” His finger thrusts in my direction.

  “I’ll cancel it, Daddy. I just—”

  “You just what Hunt? You have no respect for money. How do I know? Because you spend it like you earn it. Like it grows on trees. Like I don’t get up every morning, get dressed, and carry my ass to the office and work.”

  I see that little vein in the middle of his forehead, and I pray the floor opens and takes me whole. But there is no love for me today. It’s like the men in my life had a secret meeting, and I’m getting a two-for-one deal.

  All jokes aside, I can’t deny the power behind his words as they vibrate off the walls. This wasn’t my intent yet I hear the pain in his tone, and it’s shooting daggers through my heart better than cupid ever has. I glance down at my hands feeling two inches tall. I can’t stand to see the disappointment in his eyes.

  “Do you know that it takes most people years to earn this kind of money?” I glance up, and he’s shaking the receipt around again. I canvas my mind for a logical reason. And I don’t have one, except I did it because I could. Daddy always says yes. Except today.

  I can’t watch.

  “Junior…”

  I look up, maybe it’s not so bad. I’m an only child. I was their last attempt at in vitro. I am their miracle baby.

  My mother had such a hard time getting pregnant that she named me after my father because she knew they’d have no more kids. I’m it. And that’s how a woman ends up with a man’s name.

  “Daddy, I’m truly sorry. I won’t do it again.”

  “I know you won’t.” The finality in his voice makes the hairs on my neck stand at attention. “Go get my card and your cellphone.”

  For the next thirty minutes, my father scrubs my phone and payment systems of his credit card information. I wish he’d yell and scream. Instead, his silence is killing me.

  “But Daddy…” is all I can say.

  “One day you’ll thank me for this.”

  I can’t see it. “Are you cutting me off?”

  “No, Hunter I’m teaching you how to grow up.”

  Hunter and Ben are about to set your Kindle on fire. (Don’t say I didn’t warn you.) You can read PLATINUM LOVE now and start at the beginning with the guys of Platinum Prestige.

  Author’s Note

  I said YES to a holiday romance writing project in 2019.

  Ten authors. Ten holidays. Ten steamy romances. And we’ve all said yes to taking this journey together.

  My ten stories are novella length. I think they’re great for an evening of reading with your favorite glass of wine or tea. :) And I had the group of guys to make this series happen.

  Then struts in Hunter and her squad, her guys. They came to me years ago. I love a good millionaire or billionaire romance like the next woman. But a few of my readers emailed me asking about a female millionaire. I thought why settle for one if I can write ten. **insert evil laugh**

  I hope you enjoyed book one with Payton and Cade. Will you join me for the rest of the year as they build Platinum Prestige—one fly millionaire woman and hot guy at a time?

  Don’t miss a single release. Join my newsletter at http://www.janesedixon.com/subscribe to get updates and reader specials FIRST.

  In closing, please leave a review. It helps others find my work and it keeps the lights on, if you know what I mean. ;)

  I’ll “see” you all soon.

  Happy Reading,

  Ja’Nese Dixon

  www.janesedixon.com

  P.S. Again, there are more Steamy Sensations Holiday Love stories available now. See them all on my website: http://www.janesedixon.com/steamy-sensations.

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  BOOK 1

  It’s Valentine’s Day.

  I run to my favorite bar determined to figure out how I managed to lose my man and my inheritance in one night. The man is replaceable, but my monthly stipend is not.

  I’m Hunter Preston. My friends call me Jo and I’m the only child to a media mogul. I was traveling the world, living my best life, until Daddy dropped a million-dollar bomb, annihilating my boujee world.

  Double or nothing.

  He gave me thirty days to pitch a million dollar business concept, or I can say goodbye to my trust fund.

  So, here I am with my girls, trying to get more than selfie advice, when Ben, the sexy bartender—who either abhors me or he’s immune to my flirting—offers to help write the business plan under one condition. He wants $50,000.

  $50k to get $1 mil sounds reasonable until I remember how hot he is and how off-limits he is and how he wants nothing to do with a woman like me.

  I’m screwed, pass me another drink.

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  or Read in Kindle Unlimited!

  Read an excerpt on www.janesedixon.com.

  BOOK 2

  It’s St. Patrick’s Day.

  The day is really not important, at least that’s what I thought. I dress to impress, ready to secure my first contract as a partner with Platinum Prestige.

  Simple, right? No, I wish.

  I’m Harper Price. I’ve joined my best friends in starting an elite concierge service and I’m up. My sole task is to lease an airplane from Liam.

  I walk in, he proposes, I walk out.

  Apparently, his billionaire have gone to his head and now the sexy, arrogant menace won’t leave me alone. His head is hard as a brick. (Take that any way you want.) And he refuses to accept “no” in any language. But I’m done with love.

  No more.

  Nada.

  No mas.

  Yet secretly, I’m scribbling my first name with his last name. Then he whispers, “Live a little Harper.” And his money green eyes shine like dollars signs as he throws an unexpected curve ball. He’ll grant three wishes, when…not if…I say yes.

  Does having the most eligible rich bachelor begging to put a ring on it make me lucky? Hell no!

  Not when my heart is screaming leap, my head is screaming caution, and my panties are.…

  Oh hell, this is a f’in plane crash waiting to happen.

  What is a woman to do?

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  or Read in Kindle Unlimited!

  Read an excerpt on www.janesedixon.com.

  BOOK 10

  He lied to get laid… I lie to hide our truth…

  It's New Year's Eve.

  Business is insane, and my life is unrecognizable, thanks to the bundle of joy I carried home from my last trip to Las Vegas. But exceeding a billion dollars is worth celebrating until I see my son's father.

  I'm Chase Elliott. The GIB boarded a private flight to the City of Second Chances to celebrate our 10th Anniversary. A weekend is all I need to pop in and out of his city until Jameson enters the club.

  The man who devoured my body and changed my life. The man who haunts my dreams, craving him, is etched in the fibers of my soul.

  And I fold to my last mistake of the old year, and in the heat of passion, I reveal our son has his eyes. I slip into the New Year running home under a cloud of Jameson's threat—my h
and or his son.

  I'm prepared to fight the man who confiscated my heart. And as the truth comes to the light, I only hope lies don't tear down the house that love built.

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  or Read in Kindle Unlimited!

  Read an excerpt on www.janesedixon.com.

  Millions of adoring fans dream of having one night with him, but only she has access to his heart.

  Born with three commas in his bank account and melodies in his veins, Marques Carter is the rising prince of R&B. But not even his family name can guarantees success.

  Brione Allen is a smart woman that made a dumb decision: trusting the wrong man. He blackmailed her family and now she’s bound by a debt they knew she couldn’t pay.

  A chance meeting at his concert leads to an encrypted proposal: One week, one hundred thousand dollars, one incriminating secret. But when extortion and family ties expose them to the worst of the limelight, which secrets will they keep…and which will threaten their small light of hope?

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  or Read in Kindle Unlimited!

  Chapter 1

  The same time every week for three years and the call got no easier. Brione Allen sat on the couch and blew out a deep breath. Dial the number. Ask for Kayla. But the knot in her stomach told the utter truth. Nothing about this was easy for her.

  She tapped the numbers by memory, adding it to her favorites was something she couldn’t stomach, not after all they’d done to her.