Chapter One
Carly
“Oh, fuck yes,” Sam moans. His loose grip on my hips kills my building orgasm and I reach up, pinching my nipple in an effort to reclaim it but it’s pointless. “Just like that. Ride it, baby.”
I cringe at the pet name he knows better than to use. It’s a word reserved for boyfriends or husbands—something way more committed than we are or ever will be. I don’t do serious and I never will. Something I made clear to him before we ever hooked up.
As I close my eyes, I try to imagine the sexy dark-haired man I saw on the new Calvin Klein ad last week underneath me instead of Sam as he lets out another moan that grates on my nerves. It's like nails on a chalkboard. Mystery man wouldn’t ruin a decent orgasm with a lackluster grip on my hips as the word “baby” spills out of his mouth because he would realize nothing turns me off faster than a lack of passion from my partner.
How the hell have Sam and I even made it this long?
With a sigh, I ride him faster, resigned to the fact I won’t be getting off soon. I was desperate for release and now all I can do is pray he finishes quickly so I can get on with my damn day.
Sam groans louder and I try to focus on the sensation of him moving inside me but all I can hear in my head is that name rolling off his lips and it makes me want to run out of the room screaming. He groans again, smacking my ass with one hand as he presses his thumb to my clit, rubbing circles over the sensitive nub for a minute before he tenses beneath me, spilling into the thin barrier of the condom. Dots dance in my vision as I squeeze my eyes shut tight and I let out a fake moan. I contract my muscles around him before slipping his cock out of me and falling off to the side.
Jesus, this is getting old.
There’s nothing worse than having to fake an orgasm.
Throwing my arm over my eyes, I release a breath and will my body to relax as Sam continues panting beside me. How does the man manage to make breathing annoying? It’s baffling but somehow he does.
Last night, when I got home from work and needed to get laid, I should have just pulled my vibrator out of the nightstand instead of calling him. Or gone out to a club and found a random guy to hook up with in the bathroom. Either would be better than less than mediocre sex with a guy I should have dumped weeks ago. With a sigh, I drag my arm off my eyes and glance at the open bathroom door. Before I can convince myself to roll out of bed, Sam is on top of me with a huge grin on his face.
“That was amazing.”
I force a smile to my face and I can’t even pretend it’s not strained. “Thanks.”
He trails his finger down my cheek and it’s way too intimate. Every cell in my body is desperate to put space between us but I remain still. “I’m serious, Carly. You’re so amazing and I’ve never met another woman like you. I’m falling in love with you.”
Son of a bitch.
I freeze, my body rigid as I stare up at him. Damn him for catching me off guard with this. Most of the time, I’m able to tell when the guy I’m seeing is developing feelings, and I shut it down before it gets too far but I missed the signs with Sam. He surprised the hell out of me with this and it has to end. Not that I had any intention of continuing after today anyway.
I open my mouth to respond to him, but he silences me with a kiss before smiling and stroking my cheek.
“Don’t say anything, okay? I understand I sprang this on you but keeping it inside was killing me. I’ll wait for you however long it takes so no pressure.”
I nod, glancing over at the bathroom as my skin crawls. “I need to get ready for work.”
“Want me to join you in there?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows like that’s supposed to entice me but there’s no way in hell that will happen. You know what’s worse than one ruined orgasm? Two of them.
“I can't. I’m already running late.”
He looks a little disappointed, but he nods, rolling off me. “How about I try to rustle up breakfast for us then?”
I force another smile to my face and nod as I climb out of bed and grab my towel off the hook in the closet. As I retreat into the bathroom, I can sense his eyes on me and I try not to appear too rushed, like I’m trying to escape him even if that is what I’m doing. The bathroom door clicks behind me and I flip the lock before lean back against it and blowing out a breath. As soon as I hear Sam leave the bedroom, I walk over to the shower and turn on the water, running my hand through it to test the temperature before stepping in and letting the hot water run down my back with one thought running through my mind.
How did this happen?
Sam and I met in a bar four months ago and he seemed like the perfect guy for me since he wasn’t looking for anything serious either. His long-term girlfriend had just dumped him and nursing a broken heart, he wanted to lose himself in someone else to forget his pain—something I understood all too well. Before things progressed, I explained my rules to him and made it clear that our arrangement would be nothing more than casual so I’m struggling to understand how he could think there is any kind of future here.
It’s sloppy. The kind of mistake I made in the beginning when I was just learning how to navigate these “relationships”. After too many break-ups that ended up being messy and dramatic when they should have been anything but, I figured out how to spot the signs that someone was becoming invested and end things before it moved too far. It saved us all a whole mess of hurt in the long run.
I’m ready to get this over with and move on with my day. It will suck but it has to happen and it will hurt him less if I do it now. I’m not heartless so I do feel bad, but he holds some blame, too. In the months we’ve been hooking up, I never gave him the impression that this could be more. This is all I’m capable of giving a guy and I thought he understood that. Memories engulf me and I close my eyes, trying to forget all the reasons I’m like this. It doesn’t help that the anniversary of the worst day of my life is speeding toward me like a stray bullet. It’s likely part of the reason I got so careless this time.
Before my thoughts go down a road I have no desire to visit today, I focus back on washing my body, scrubbing meticulously to distract my mind but it’s a constant struggle to avoid those dark thoughts. I’ve been so distracted by that damn date, circled in red on my calendar next week, that I’ve barely even been able to focus on anything else, even my new job, so of course I missed things with Sam. Shaking my head, I rinse out my loofa and hang it back on its hook before slipping under the hot water and watching the little soap bubbles run down my belly. Once I’m clean, I turn off the water and step out of the shower as I grab my towel and wrap it around my chest. Silence greets me and I tiptoe to the bathroom door. I pull it open a fraction and scan the bedroom for Sam with my breath stuck in my lungs. After a moment, I hear him singing along to the radio in the kitchen, so I slip out of the bathroom and into my spacious walk-in closet.
This is the one space in the whole apartment I was allowed to decorate and its mix of rustic and contemporary décor sticks out like a sore thumb but it never fails to bring a smile to my face. It is as large as most apartment bedrooms and somewhat of a sanctuary for me in a condo that doesn’t seem like home most of the time. I walk past my wall of shoes and thumb through the rack of clothes before settling on a deep blue shift dress. Once I’m dressed, I re-wrap my hair in the towel and grab my shoes as I steel myself to go break up with Sam.
Time to get this over with.
“So, you didn’t have much to work with,” Sam says as I walk into the kitchen, his back facing me as he stands over the stove. He transfers two sunny-side-up eggs from the pan to a plate before turning to face me. “But I found eggs.”
Hot cup of coffee in his hand, he saunters over and hands it to me as he leans against the island and cuts one egg in half with a fork before scooping it up and holding it in front of my mouth.
What the hell is he doing?
Never, in the months we’ve been hooking up, have we ever been so… domesticated with each other and I’m once again baffled by the change in him that seems to have occurred overnight as I open my mouth and accept the food. He watches me chew with an expectant expression on his face.
“Good?” he asks and I nod, lifting the steaming cup of coffee to my lips. I take a sip before realizing that he didn’t add any creamer to it and I try not to grimace as I grip it in both hands. “Oh, you were out of creamer but there's this great little coffee shop nearby that you’ll love if you want to stop and grab something there.”
Why does he think he’ll be versed in what I love? Sam and I don’t spend time together unless it’s to fuck and he can’t even do that right, so he has no clue what I’d want or like. I shake my head, setting the coffee down as I gather up my laptop and slip it in its bag.
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” he asks, an edge to his voice that wasn’t there a second ago.
“Does it matter?”
He nods, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah, it sure as hell does.”
Sighing, I face him and lean my hip against the counter as I cross my arms over my chest. “Sam, after what happened this morning, I think it’s best if we end this.”
“I fucking knew you would do this,” he hisses, slamming the plate of eggs down on the counter and I’m surprised that it doesn’t shatter. Damn, that thing is sturdy. I’m kind of impressed, actually. I’ll have to figure out who sells them and pick up more.
Sam grabs the coffee off of the counter and takes a sip, drawing my attention back to him. “Why can’t you let me in, baby? What are you so scared of?”
There’s that word again. I square my shoulders and lift my chin in defiance as I stare him down. “I’m not scared and I’m sure as hell not your damn baby.”
“But you could be if you’d just give this thing a shot. You don’t need to be scared.”
“Did you forget about the rules? This was never going to be more than sex and I already told you, I’m not scared.”
He scoffs and shakes his head. “You’re so full of shit, Carly. You’re terrified of something. I just can’t figure out what it is. I never forgot your damn rules but I’m saying this could be so much more. We’re great together and all I’m asking is for you to give us a chance.”
“No,” I reply, shaking my head and he looks away for a moment before stepping toward me and cradling my cheek as he gives me an imploring look. He’s dead wrong if he thinks it will work on me.
“Please, Car. Just grab dinner with me tonight and we can talk. We can take this as slow as you want. Just give me a shot.”
His hopeful expression fills me with guilt but there’s no way in hell this thing can go on, no matter what he says. It’s annoying because now I will have to find someone new. Though, even the thought of getting back out there has me considering celibacy for the first time since college.
I take a step back and his hand falls between us. “You’re not hearing me. This is over. I’m sorry if that hurts you but I made myself perfectly clear when we met. This was only ever sex for me and now it’s done.”
He lets out a sardonic laugh and nods, thrusting his full cup of coffee at my chest. I catch it but half of the contents spill down the front of my dress as my gaze snaps up to his in shock.
“Have a nice fucking life, Carly.”
Sam takes off, knocking me in the shoulder as he lumbers past me, and stalks toward the door. The door to the apartment slams shut as he leaves and I jump as I turn to look at it before glancing down at my ruined dress. Would it be possible to crawl back into bed and pretend this day never happened?
* * * *
This entire day is going to shit.
After changing into a new outfit - a sleek black dress and my favorite red leather jacket to make me feel like a badass after my terrible morning - I barely made it to work when Ali, my best friend, got a call from her boyfriend that someone had broken into her house. It’s not even noon yet and I’m counting the minutes until I can go home, lock the front door, crawl under the covers, and lose myself in a bottle of wine.
I glance across the car at Alison, who doesn’t even notice my gaze as she stares at the road in front of us. She hasn’t said a word since she hung up the phone with her boyfriend, Storm. Not that I blame her. I’m sure her mind is a million miles away right now. I mean, what do you even say to someone after such an invasion of privacy? As I focus back on the road, I rack my brain for anything that could improve her mood or even take her mind off the situation but come up empty. It kills me.
Alison and I met six years ago when we both worked at The Baton Rouge Times. In hindsight, it wasn’t a great job, but we were both fresh out of college and excited to be starting our journey in journalism. We bonded right away over our love of the written word and coffee. When she introduced me to her roommate, Isabelle Hutton, we became a tight knit little group. I swear, sometimes it's like I’ve known them my entire life and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for either of them.
Pulling up to the curb, I shift the car into park as I peer up at the house and suck in a breath. To anyone else, the house looks the same as it did two nights ago when I brought dinner over for Ali and I but somehow, it's different. A chill blankets my skin and it’s almost if a shadow has been cast over the property, an ominous sensation greeting you like one of those old haunted houses kids dare each other to go near. If it’s affecting me this much, I can’t even imagine what Ali is going through—her sanctuary destroyed. I glance over at her and she meets my eyes.
“Ready to do this, sweetie?” I ask and her gaze flicks up to the house behind me before she nods. We climb out of the car and she meets me on the sidewalk and slips her hand in mine. As we walk up the front walk, she’s almost robotic in her movements, staring up at her home as we inch toward it. Every step closer to the front door, the sense that someone is watching us intensifies, and I resist the urge to kick the bushes just in case the creep who broke in is still lurking around.
“You think it’s got something to do with the pictures?” a gruff voice asks from inside the house as I guide Ali up the steps and I flick a questioning glance in her direction, but she doesn’t even notice me. Her face is blank and her gaze is fixed in front of her. We step through the open front door and stop short.
Six large men in leather vests turn to us and I let out a soft gasp. My eyes roam over them, my pulse spiking and a tingle creeping up my spine as I try to figure out who the hell these guys are. A man steps through the crowd, his dark hair in disarray and his piercing gray eyes trained on Ali as he closes the gap between them and slides a hand into her hair, shoving me out of the way. They collide and he presses his forehead to hers as she melts into his touch. The stress drains out of her body as her eyes drift closed and he takes a deep breath like he can breathe again now with her here. They stand in their own little world, oblivious to the rest of us.
It’s a stunning picture.
When my friend told me about her feelings for her hot neighbor who was the VP of a motorcycle club, I thought she was a little crazy but seeing them together, you can’t deny what they have. The connection they share is so potent that you can sense it filling the room and my chest aches. In the quiet moments of the night, when I’m alone, I remember a young girl who dreamed of a connection like that before the world taught her how naïve she was. And every once in a while, I can admit to myself that a small piece of me still clings to the hope that there is someone out there for me, a man who will gaze at me like I am his sun and moon. Like he can see galaxies dancing in my eyes and he’s content to just get lost in them forever. But when the sun peeks through the trees the next morning, that sliver of the young girl I used to be gets buried underneath the lessons painfully learned in my youth.
“Hey, let’s give them a minute,” someone says, nudging my arm and I nod, without pulling my gaze away from Ali. I hate to leave her, but she seems to have relaxed, and she’s clinging to Storm like he’s her life raft. She seems okay, for now, so I follow the other guys outside as they fan out across the lawn, all of them talking to each other.
“What’s your name, Darlin’?” the same voice asks, and I pull my gaze away from the door, sucking in a breath when my eyes meet his.
Holy shit.
Those two words are the only intelligible thing bouncing around in my head as his jade green eyes bore into me, intense and a little curious, like he’s trying to uncover my most intimate secrets. Just one look from him and it's as if I’m laid bare at his feet, all my baggage printed across my skin for him to read. A smile teases his lips as he takes his time looking me over, almost like there is an inside joke I’m missing but I'm sure he didn’t say anything else since I can’t seem to take my eyes off of his full lips or wonder how they would feel pressed against my neck.
Goose bumps race across my flesh.
His gaze drops down my body, following every curve with precision and I do the same, taking in his tall, lean frame. The sleeves of his dark blue Henley are pushed up, showing off the muscles in his forearms and the bold black and gray tattoos that blanket his skin. I wonder how far up they go and how his inked knuckles would contrast against my creamy skin.
When our eyes meet again, the fire dancing in his is enough to steal my breath and make my heart race with a desire that has been lacking from my life. I fight the urge to take a step toward him. One corner of his mouth tips up in a lopsided grin that has me biting down on my lip to hide one of my own as heat rushes to my cheeks and desire pools between my thighs. My need from this morning returns tenfold and I curse myself for not grabbing my vibrator after Sam stormed out of my apartment. His eyes drop to my mouth and his tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip like he’s hoping to catch a taste of me there.
My heart skips a beat.
Green eyes find mine once again and I'm aware of something vibrating throughout my entire body. How the hell can he do that from just a glance? With an expectant brow, he clears his throat, snapping me out of my daze.
What was I supposed to be saying to him right now?
My name.
Right.
“Carly,” I whisper, my voice barely audible as my pulse pounds under my skin. His eyes sparkle as he flashes me a full smile, a dimple appearing on his cheek and my knees go a little weak.
“I’m Chance. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, you, too,” I mumble like an idiot because I can’t think of one thing to say to this man. I attended four years of college and graduated, right? I’m certain I did but you wouldn’t realize it from looking at me. My brain crawls like it’s moving through sludge and I’m having trouble recalling basic language skills. In all my years of random hook-ups, I’ve experienced nothing like this and as much as I recognize that it should send me running in the other direction, it doesn’t. Instead, I want to lean closer even when I'm aware of the danger. I want to see if he smells as good as I imagine and how he’d react if I placed my palm against his chest.
“So, you work at the blog with Ali, then?” he asks and I nod, unable to make my mouth work.
Good god, Carly.
Just force words, any words at all, out of your lips, for Christ’s sake.
“Yeah,” I say and almost roll my eyes at myself. He smirks and takes a small step toward me like he’s fighting this crazy pull, too, but my mind is still blank. I don’t think I’ve been this awkward in front of a guy since I was a teenager.
Now would be a fantastic time for the heavens to open and shoot me down with a lightning bolt so I don’t humiliate myself further, but they aren’t that kind.
Warmth washes over me again and I take a deep breath, fighting my natural inclination to seek his gaze. He takes another step toward me and I can’t stop myself from glancing up at him. He smiles, a soft smile I’m sure is supposed to put me at ease but it only makes him more attractive. My breath catches when he reaches out and brushes his thumb over my cheek. Tingles, like little zaps of lightning flitter over my skin and the only thing I can hear is my rapid breathing as I stare up at him, unable to pull my gaze away from his eyes.
“Sorry. You had an eyelash on your cheek,” he whispers but still doesn’t pull his hand away and my body aches as I fight every natural inclination to lean into his touch. He is trouble with a capital T. I clear my throat.
“Uh… thanks.”
He takes a step back and nods before glancing up at the house as he runs a hand through his dirty blond hair, almost as if he was in a daze himself. He turns back and just like that, his eyes hold me captive again. “You drove Ali here, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I was thinking about getting her car and bringing it back here. You mind driving me?”
I glance up at the house, chewing on my bottom lip. “I should stay here with her.”
“Trust me, there is no way in hell Storm is leaving her right now. She’s in good hands. Besides, if I bring her car back, it’s one less thing for her to worry about.”
Sighing, I nod. He’s right. The last thing Ali needs to worry about right now is her car. “Okay, let me go grab her keys.”
He nods. I walk up the steps and slip inside. Ali and Storm are nowhere in sight, so I grab her keys out of her bag and go back outside as I pull my phone out to send her a text.
Me:
Hey, taking Chance to bring your car back.
Call if you need anything.
As I slip my phone back into my bag, I glance up and stop halfway down the steps as my eyes lock onto Chance leaning up against my car with his arms crossed over his chest. The rest of the world seems to fall away. His gaze never wavers, like he’s content to just stand there and watch me all damn day and the worst part is, I like it. What the hell is happening right now? It’s almost like my little sister, Ivy, did some of that witchy voodoo stuff that Aunt Dottie tried to teach us when we were younger. Of course, neither one of us took it seriously. But that’s just about the only explanation for the emotion rocking through my body right now.
Blowing out a breath, I shake it off as I start down the sidewalk toward him. The last thing I need right now is this shit. So, sure… Chance might be the sexiest man I’ve ever met, but that’s all this is—lust. As I reach the car, he doesn’t move and his body is dangerously close as I lean in to open my door. He smells like cinnamon gum, the kind that Ivy and I used to sneak when our mother wasn’t around. The scent fills the space between us and I resist the urge to close my eyes and just breathe him in, remembering a time when life wasn’t so complicated. Stilling, we lock eyes and stare at each other, the tension mounting between us.
My entire body tingles in anticipation.
“Are you going to get in?” I whisper and a smile stretches across his face. His eyes roam over me, taking his time to study me like he has every right to before pushing off the car and grazing my body. I gasp. It would be less dramatic if he electrocuted me. I watch him walk around to the passenger side and slip into the seat before taking another breath and sliding behind the wheel. He watches me as I pull away from the curb and start off toward the office, his gaze boring into the side of my head. I’m acutely aware of it—like it’s his hands following the contours of my face instead of his eyes.
I fidget in my seat, each breath I pull into my lungs ringing in my ears as I stare at the road in front of me and fight my body’s desire to glance over at him. He finally looks away and I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The road flies past us but I barely even register it, all my attention focused on the man next to me and the way his eyes periodically flick in my direction. Each time, I struggle to restrain myself from meeting his gaze. When I can’t stand it any longer, I glance over at him.
“What?” I ask and he grins. His eyes sparkle with amusement and curiosity. It’s so hard to turn away from him but I somehow manage.
“Nothing. Just trying to figure you out.”
I scoff. “Good luck with that.”
He can’t ever get to know me. I’m a bag full of crazy, accentuated by secrets and pain so deep I’ll never recover. He’s better off not knowing. He continues watching me and I focus back on the road, once again struggling to not glance in his direction as I search for something to say to him to fill this space between us. Never in my adult life have I had trouble talking to men, but he does something I can’t explain. I thought I understood what desire did to my body, what chemistry was, but now I’m questioning everything.
“How long have you known Ali?” he asks, and I peek over at him before turning back to the road.
“Six years. Have you been friends with Storm long?”
He chuckles, and the sound draws my gaze back to him. “Yeah, since we were kids.”
“Cool,” I whisper, turning back to the road as my heart thumps in my chest.
“Why are you nervous, sweets?” he asks, his voice low as he reaches across the car and trails his thumb down my neck, right over my racing pulse. I draw in a ragged breath and peek over at him. My heart is pounding and my mind is going back and forth as I strain to not melt at this stranger’s touch.
“I’m not.”
Chuckling again, he shakes his head, saying nothing but his expression makes it clear he’s not buying it. I’m not all that convinced right now either because I can’t focus on anything but the heat that’s steadily climbing in the confined space of the car. My body aches, tortured with how much I want him to touch me again. I stare at the road in front of me, torn between wanting to get to the office faster and slowing down so I have a little more time with him.
Wait, what?
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks and I scoff as I glance in his direction.
“How is that any of your business?”
His grin widens. “I’ll take that as a no.”
What could I say to him? It’s not like I can confirm that he’s correct or explain that the farthest guys ever get with me is friends with benefits and I haven’t been in a relationship since I was sixteen. Hell, I haven’t even told Ali or Izzy about that, so I will not tell a virtual stranger.
“Did you grow up here?” he asks, turning to face me in his seat and focusing his full attention on me. It’s unnerving.
“No.”
When I glance over at him again, he smirks. “Where are you from?”
“Why are you so interested in where I grew up?”
I pull up to a red light just a block from the parking garage and look across the car, locking eyes with him. His gaze holds me prisoner and I can’t pull away. There’s just something so intriguing about him. Maybe it’s the way his eyes hold this fierce intensity and seem to shimmer with amusement at the same time—like he would ride into the depths of hell with a grin on his face and laugh as he went head-to-head with the devil. Or the fact that he has no qualms about openly staring at me like a stalker. And yet, it doesn’t come off as threatening.
“Just want to get to know you,” he says, shrugging his shoulders like he sees nothing wrong with that. Perhaps in his world, there’s nothing wrong with it but it’ll be a cold day in that hell he’s riding into before I let someone get close again.
“There isn’t anything to know,” I retort just as horns blare behind me. My head whips forward and I press down on the gas.
“Now that, I very much doubt.”
“Why?”
“Let’s call it a hunch. You’re far too gorgeous and intriguing for that to be true.”
“That shit will not work on me,” I snap, hoping that he can’t see the deception in my eyes. Normally, it wouldn’t work. With any other guy, I would roll my eyes and move on, but something about the way he says it hits me right in the chest.
He laughs out loud, throwing his head back and warmth seeps through my body as I sneak another peek at him. “Damn, you’re refreshing, but who exactly are you trying to convince?”
I say nothing, turning into the parking garage with a huff and focusing on the winding ramp as I drive up to Ali’s car. When I slip into the spot next to her, I let out a breath and put the car in park.
“That’s her car there,” I say, pointing next to me as I reach for my bag. After I turn the car off, I toss the keys across the seat and he catches them.
“Hey, wait,” he calls as I open the door and climb out. Spinning around, I shut the door and glance over the top of the car at him.
“What?”
“I should get your number.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“What if I need to get in touch with you?” he asks.
“Why would you need to call me?”
He shrugs. “What if there’s an emergency?”
“Call nine-one-one,” I retort and spin around, walking away from him. I only get a few steps away when I hear his boots slapping against the pavement, then he’s grabbing my arm and spinning me to face him.
“What if something happens with Ali?”
“Ali has my number.”
He sighs, but he doesn’t seem even the least bit frustrated by my resistance.
“What if you need help?”
“Then I’ll call nine-one-one,” I shoot back, tiring of this back and forth.
“I promise you, I can get to you a lot quicker than the cops can. I only want to keep you safe.” He places his hand over his heart like it will somehow convince me he’s sincere and I roll my eyes.
“You’re not going to leave until I give it to you, are you?”
He grins. “No.”
“Give me your phone,” I growl, against my better judgment, and he grabs his phone out of his pocket before handing it over. My desperation to leave this situation is stronger than my desire for him to not have my number. Besides, I can always block him later. After programming my number in his contacts, I hand it back to him and turn away.
“Goodbye, Chance,” I call over my shoulder and his chuckle echoes through the garage as my phone beeps.
555-011-3346:
See you around, Darlin’