HOOKED
By Nicole Howard
Copyright 2020 Nicole Howard
This ebook 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, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, places, characters and content are the product of the authors imagination and are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead is coincidental.
Playing With Hearts Series
HAZED
BURNED
HOOKED
Coming Soon
TRACKED
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1 – Lured
Chapter 2- Bait
Chapter 3 – Head Above Water
Chapter 4 – Spinning
Chapter 5 – Trolling
Chapter 6 – Reeling
Chapter 7 – Wading In
Chapter 8 – Shallows
Chapter 9 – Rough Waters
Chapter 10 – Casting
Chapter 11 – Surfacing
Chapter 12 – Sunk
Chapter 13 – Anchored
Chapter 14 – Bottoms Up
Chapter 15 – Tangled
Chapter 16 – Fishing
Chapter 17 – Release
Chapter 18 – Bailing Out
Chapter 19 – Floating
Chapter 20 – Aboard
Chapter 21 – Catch
Epilogue
Prologue
“Jesus! Why do you have to be such a fat cow?” My mother’s high-pitched voice echoed off the walls of the empty hallway. Her anger was masked by a thick layer of make-up, but after living with her for fourteen years, I didn’t need to see it to know she was red-faced beneath it all.
“I…I ca…I can fix it.” I stuttered, fumbling with the split zipper. Four inches of pale skin was exposed along the side of the skin-tight, mint green bridesmaid dress my mother had insisted on.
“If you didn’t eat everything in sight, there wouldn’t be anything to fix!” She squealed, exasperated.
At the age of fourteen, I was already five feet, four inches tall, well developed, and subsequently wore an adult size six. But according to my over-opinionated mother, anything larger than a size zero was unacceptable. When it came time to order the dress, she extended an olive branch and compromised with a size two and the demand that I cut weight before the wedding. That was three weeks ago and despite my every effort to shed the pounds, the dress was still too tight.
I tugged at the jammed zipper, making little progress. The underwire of my strapless bra was digging into my skin, my ribs ached from the constant constraint of the boning, and my head was pounding from the stress of the day. Four more hours and it would all be over. At least for another couple of years.
“You’re doing it wrong.” Mother-dearest shoved my hands away from the broken zipper, taking hold of the metal slider and yanking with too much force. The zipper dislodged and drug along my skin, leaving a thin line of bright red blood in its wake.
“I…I’m sor…sorry.” I apologized in a panic. The blood was beginning to seep into the green fabric.
“Nothing is ever simple with you, is it?” My mother huffed, staring at the growing red stain. “I don’t know why I even bother to involve you. You’re always such an embarrassment. Next time, you can just stay at home.”
“I…I’ll go… cl…clean this.” My escape to the bathroom was disrupted by heavy footfalls and a deep voice.
“Diana, our guests are waiting. Come back to the reception, before people start to wonder where you are.” Geoff, my mother’s new husband directed. “Magdalen, I’ve called a taxi to take you back to the house. You can wait outside until it arrives. Your mother needs time to calm down. She deserves to enjoy her special day without your drama.” He all but ignored the growing pool of blood along my side.
“Of course.” I shuffled away from the bathroom, using my hand to hide the stain in case one of the guests happened to wander by. The wind was cold against my bare skin, but any distraction from my current reality was welcome. The reality that stepfather number six was already failing to be any better than stepdads one through five.
Chapter 1
Lured
Maggie
One look was all we needed. A single moment of eye contact was enough. He wanted me. I wanted him. For one reason only. Sex. Mind-blowing, intense, physical, emotionless sex. I left. He followed.
“In here.” His words were whispered. Warm lips pressed against the shell of my ear, sending the best kind of chills down my spine. The closet was pitch black, but neither of us cared about finding the light. Instead, his hands found my hips, gripping hard as he spun me around, pressing my body against the door. “A skirt would have been easier.”
“Aren’t up for the challenge, Mister Rockstar?” I teased, tangling my fingers in his long locks, pulling his mouth down to meet mine.
“Oh, I’m up.” To prove his point, he pressed his length against my stomach. “I just like easy access.” With one practiced flick of his finger, my jeans were open, his hands tugging down the denim. “Fuck.”
“Easy enough?” I shimmied my hips, forcing the pants to inch far enough down my thighs, before kicking them off.
“I’m down with commando.” He hooked one arm underneath my leg, leaving me no choice but to balance on one foot.
“Condoms… in my purse.” I groaned, leaning my head against the door, as he ran a finger along my center.
“I’ve got it covered.” His deep voice vibrated against my skin as he placed a quick kiss to my collarbone before producing the foil package. “You wanna do the honors, princess?”
“I’m nobody’s princes.” Grabbing the condom from his fingers, I used my mouth to tear it open. My hand wrapped around his erection, stroking, teasing. He countered, slipping one finger inside of me, pumping it with practiced rhythm. “Oh, God!” An unsolicited moan escaped as he doubled his digits.
“Two can play this game, babe.”
“I’m not your babe either.” My fist tightened around his erection, squeezing him in warning before I removed my hand and sheathed him. “Now, fuck me.”
***
The hospital might not have been the most logical place to hook-up, but God, I needed it. A quick and dirty way to ease the stress and ignore the guilt, if only for a few minutes. My best friend was laying in a hospital bed, beaten and bleeding, and it was my fault. Well, technically, her douchebag of an ex was to blame, but I shouldn’t have left her alone. The fact that he had access to her, well, that was my cross to bear.
Of course, my preferred choice would have been to be with Ally in her room, not screwing a stranger in a random maintenance closet. But no, I was left to pace the waiting room, while the father of her child sat by her side. And my hook-up wasn’t entirely a stranger. Half of the female population was well acquainted with Justin Thompson, drummer for the uber-famous band, Hazed. Hell, he’d even starred in my fantasies a time or two. Really, who could blame me? Six feet, muscular build, long, unruly hair, bad boy attitude, covered with tattoos… um, yum!
The best ten minutes of my life followed by two hours of torture. In my rush to get laid, I failed to consider the awkwardness of sitting across from him, in a small room, while waiting for an opportunity to see Ally. It wasn’t my first rodeo. For me, sex was purely physical. Pleasure without attachment. But every time I so much as looked in the direction of the two bandmates sitting
on the other side of the room, Justin did little to hide his satisfied smirk.
Tim Lawson, the lead singer of Hazed and my best friend’s baby daddy burst through the door of the waiting room, drawing the attention of the three of us waiting for an update.
“Is she okay?” The gruff voice I knew all too well from the few minutes in the closet sounded too loud for the small space.
“I’m going to kill him.” Tim’s focus was on his bandmates, leaving me to watch their conversation unfold as a bystander. Although I had only met Tim a couple of times through Ally, I could tell the man was losing his mind. His clothing was disheveled, his eyes red-rimmed, and his hair pulled in a dozen different directions. A far cry from the guy who regularly graced the covers of magazines. “How could he do that to her?”
“You know this is all your fault. You shouldn’t have tried to play games. You should have told her right away how you felt, instead of keeping everything a secret. This wouldn’t have happened.” Ian, the quietest one in the group, laid the blame squarely on Tim’s shoulders. But that’s not where it belonged and if I were a bigger person, I would own up to it.
“Maggie, can you stay with Ally until I get back? She’s in room 234.” Tim looked as drained as I felt. I was relieved by the excuse to escape. “I’m just going to drive Justin and Ian to Ally’s, so they can stay with Kenzie.” He turned his attention back to the other side of the room. “If you guys are good with that.”
“Of course.” Ian, the one I deemed the responsible one, responded. “Whatever you need.”
“Sure, man.” Justin’s deep voice seconded, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. His heavily tattooed arms drew my attention. Damn, maybe I should have found the light switch and appreciated his sleeves as he pounded into me.
“Do… do you… Can I help with anything?” I stuttered, my childhood habit resurfacing with the stress of the night.
“No.” Tim exhaled and turned to face me. “You’ve had a long night. When I get back, you should go home. Get some sleep.”
“I think Ally’s the one who’s had the rough night. I’m fine.” If fine was a relative term and I ignored his crazy-ass friend over there. “If the boys need help with Kenz, I can lend a hand. Or two.”
“I’m guessing they will take you up on that offer at some point over the next couple of days.” Tim’s laugh was hollow.
“Oh, I’m sure I can use a hand… or two. Maggie is it?” Justin winked, before giving his trademark smirk that was beginning to piss me off. “We should get your number. For later, of course.”
Oh, hell no. “Tim can reach me. He has my number.” Good try, sucker.
“That’s right. I do.” Tim closed Justin’s opening, without knowing.
“I’m going to head up to Ally’s room. I’ll see you in a bit.” I spun on my heels, ready to leave. “It was nice meeting you guys.” I tossed my long, red hair over my shoulder before walking out of the room and away from Justin.
***
For someone who has slept with as many men as I have, one would assume that I started young. That perhaps I’d worked my way through the football team during my junior year, but for me, that couldn’t be further from the truth. I was eighteen before I said good-bye to my virginity, and I had planned every aspect of the event. Right down to my dramatic exit.
When I left for college, I had been naïve, believing that with my newfound freedom would come happiness. I expected my relationship with my mother would improve once I was out of the house. After all, she and husband number nine, stepdad number eight, had the house to themselves. My mother had no reason to be consumed with my weight, my clothing, or my social life. There would no longer be pressure to be the perfect stepdaughter for the next husband she was bound to be scoping out. Bigger and better, or younger and fitter. Her motto to live by.
Boy was I wrong. Mother-dearest was beyond, cursing me over the freshman fifteen, that I can guarantee I did not gain and complaining about my lack of prospective boyfriends. In her eyes, the problem was obvious. Despite sharing her coveted genes, I lacked sexual appeal, my body was unattractive, my clothing frumpy and conservative, and the personality I prided myself on was too bland. In her words, I was the teenage equivalent of my great-grandmother.
I was used to her special brand of parenting behind closed doors, but for the first time her shitstorm of utter disgust for her own flesh and blood was spewed during the middle of a party. One she demanded I throw. My verbal beating was witnessed by a house full of people from my high school, none of whom I would consider a friend. All of whom were there solely for the free beer.
I was mortified. And vengeful. My inner bitch was released and operation “Get Fucked” was born. You see, husband number nine slotted under the younger and fitter category, in his early thirties and decently attractive. I was determined to prove my mother wrong.
Seducing Trent was easy. My mother attended monthly spa weekends with the women in her social circle, so the only thing I needed to do was wait. When the weekend arrived, my mother drove off with her friends and I made an unplanned trip home, giving myself two days to lose my virginity.
On Saturday morning, I arrived bright and early, wearing nothing but the dress I borrowed from my petite roommate. The dress was skin-tight and about six inches too short. The first step in my plan was to flash skin as often as possible and tease the man. If that didn’t work, my outfit for Sunday left even less to the imagination.
“Magdalen!” Trent’s voice cracked in surprise as I strutted through the kitchen and dropped my bag on the counter. “Your mom didn’t mention you were coming home this weekend.” His throat bobbed as he scanned my appearance, thrown off by my arrival. “She’s away for the weekend.”
“It’s Maggie.” I corrected, lifting myself on to one of the stools at the breakfast nook. Strategy in play, I parted my legs a few inches before crossing them, causing Trent’s gaze to follow. “I know. I didn’t tell her I was coming home. Needed some time away from everything.” Uncrossing my legs, I watched him squirm, pleased with his reaction. “Is that okay?”
“Uh, yep. It’s fine.”
I spent two hours in my room, visualizing the next step in my master plan. Seeing me as a woman instead of a teenager was one thing, he cleared that hurdle without issue. Touching what he shouldn’t, that was going to take more convincing.
“Magdalen!” Trent called up the stairs, jerking me away from my thoughts.
“It’s Maggie.” I hollered back down.
“Right. Maggie, do you want something to eat? I’m grilling burgers.”
“Sure,” I shouted, bouncing off my twin bed and readjusting the dress. “I’ll be right down.”
Trent was out on the back deck, flipping the beef patties by the time I reached the bottom of the stairs. I swallowed my nerves before pushing open the sliding glass to join him.
“Wow! Those look delicious. I can’t wait to put that meat in my mouth.” Building on the cheesy innuendo, I set a hand on his forearm and brushed against him.
“Ugh, Magda…”
“Maggie.” My grip tightened around him, as I stroked suggestively.
“How much meat, I mean how many burgers do you want?” Trent choked on his words.
“I’m not sure. I’m really hungry.” I gave one final stroke before releasing his arm. “Two?”
“Okay.”
“Do you want me to make a salad or something to go with them?” Things were moving faster than I had imagined and I was desperate for the distance to regroup.
“That would be great.” I put an extra sway in my step as I walked away, knowing his eyes were locked on my ass. By the time Trent returned with the cooked hamburgers, I had tossed together a salad, strengthened my resolve, and planted myself on the counter.
“All done?” Batting my eyelashes, I pushed aside the salad bowl to make room for the plate of burgers.
“Yep.” Trent set down the plate on the edge of the counter, his attention lost in the space
between my legs. “Mag… no panties.” He sputtered, coughing into a closed fist. His face reddened, torn between embarrassment and uncertainty.
“Oh, right. Sorry.” The man hadn’t averted his eyes, so instead of closing them, I spread them wider. “Would you prefer if I put some on?”
“No.” Losing his internal battle, Trent’s hands dropped to rest on the inside of my thighs. “I know I should say yes, but…” He pressed down, the weight driving my legs further apart. “This is hot.”
“Do you want to eat?” I questioned, unable to contain my excitement that my crazy plan was working. Trent had yet to look away.
“I do.” My stomach bottomed out. I had hoped he’d forgotten all about the burgers balancing on the ledge mere inches away.
“Oh, okay.” But Trent didn’t release my legs. Instead, he pulled me closer to the edge of the counter and widened my legs further, lowering his head between them.
“Just don’t tell your mother.” Electricity shot through me as his tongue touched my skin.
“I won’t.” I moaned. “As long as you don’t stop.”
Revenge be damned. Trent’s mouth was destroying my carefully laid out plans one stroke at a time. My thoughts were replaced with colors, bright purples and blues in waves of euphoria as the man I was supposed to be playing, won the game.
“Good, princess?” He whispered, holding the weight of my limp limbs. It took every ounce of energy to nod my head, causing him to chuckle. “You should probably eat something. I have a feeling you’re going to need the energy.”
After regaining my balance, I chewed down a burger, lost in the aftermath of my first orgasm, while Trent demolished three. I wanted to feel it again, more than I wanted my next breath. Trent wiped his face with the back of his hand before pulling me off the counter. His fingers laced with mine as he led me up the stairs.
Hooked Page 1
