Multicultural Erotic Romance with Adults Only Content, explicit language and some drug use.
What Does A Man Say to the Woman He Betrayed But Never Stopped Loving?
Three years ago, Zachary Steele refused to entertain thoughts of permanency with any woman. A hedonist at heart, he didn’t want to corrupt the much younger, Madigan DeLeon, by continuing his affair with her. With the hidden scars of his past, he didn’t believe in happily-ever-after. By the time he realized how much Madigan meant to him, he’d driven her away. Then, one night, after being clean for a number of years, Zach briefly falls off the bandwagon. He believes his lovemaking to Madi is a drug-induced hallucination. The resulting consequences tell another story.
What Does A Woman Do When the Only Man She’s Ever Loved Hurt Her So Deeply She Feared She’d Never Recover?
Three years after her affair with Zach so abruptly ended, celebutante, Madigan DeLeon, is thrust back into Zach’s life by her mother’s machinations. Brought home under the false pretenses of repairing her damaged relationship with her mother, Madi instead finds herself running a private sex club called Wicked Allure. Forced to confront her anger at his betrayal and grief at the loss of what might’ve been, Madi faces the realization that she’s never stopped loving Zach.
Can Two Broken Hearts Set Aside Anger and Betrayal to Find True Love Once and For All?
Searching the deepest recesses of their hearts, in a place where pride and pain has no room, Madi and Zach must decide if their bond is strong enough to take a second chance at love. Or if resuming their sexual relationship is an irresistible wicked allure and the ghosts of their former relationship will finally, and forever, sever all ties between them
Excerpt:
“Oomph!”
The sound exploded from Zachary Steele’s mouth as he
climbed into bed and collided with a warm body.
He swore the room had been empty when he’d walked in. Frowning, he searched his memory, realizing
he wasn’t certain if he’d been alone or not.
He’d come in, amazed at how big his penthouse suddenly seemed to
him. After gazing around, impressed by
the sheer size of this one room, he’d laid out four lines of coke on the highly
polished nightstand, snorted two, then went into the bathroom.
Once he’d returned to the bedroom, he’d turned off the
lights and sat on the couch near the fireplace for a long while. He’d forgotten how long he’d sat in the
gloom, as black as the void in his life.
Seeing no good about ruminating on his past mistakes, he’d gotten into
the bed, and found it already occupied.
Had he really gotten that wasted that he didn’t know
where he was or who he was with? He was
supposed to be at his apartment, but, while he had a familiarity with this
room, it was unfamiliar as well.
He squinted, unable to see much in the darkness. Unsteadily, he turned and flicked on the
bedside lamp. Two small lines of white
powder remained. The room was spinning,
the combination of coke and scotch buzzing through his veins. The thought persisted that something was off
about his bedroom. The hunter green and
gold décor didn’t seem right. Neither
could he remember purchasing the paintings of correlating scenes from an
African hunt that marched along the room’s long walls.
At the fuzzy edges of his brain, he knew those
paintings and knew they shouldn’t be in his house. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten
here. One moment he was dancing with
Karolyn, his business partner, at her birthday party, and the next he was
imagining he was floating above the crowd.
Flying high.
He laughed, loud in the still silence of his
surroundings. He sure as shit was flying
high, but not because he’d suddenly sprouted wings.
“Zachary?”
Zach jerked around at the sound of his name. A voice went with the warm body he’d collided
with. Not a voice. Her voice.
Soft, sexy, curling through him like wisps of smoke. His laughter must have awakened her. His mind immediately rejected the notion that
she was really in bed next to him. Madigan couldn’t be here. She didn’t even know where he lived anymore.
She was stirring beside him and sitting up, the sheets
rustling with her movements. The
lamplight bathed her honey colored skin with a golden glow. Exotically high cheekbones set in a delicate
face attested to the melting pot of her heritage: African-American, Native
American, with a smattering of French and Spanish. The black silk sheet she held around her
breasts contrasted perfectly with her beautiful complexion. Dark hair hung past the graceful curve of her
shoulders, cradling her lovely face in a cloud of thick waves. She appeared so fragile and vulnerable. Young.
He drew his brows together, reminding himself that she was all of those
things. He was the sonofabitch who’d
thrown her aside.
Madigan’s topaz eyes were hazy, glazed. Zachary stared at her, baffled, a wild,
primitive explosion of pain and sweetness, disbelief and hope bursting through
him. Madi wasn’t a drug user, so she
must have been plastered from the expensive champagne that had been served at
her mother’s party.
No, that wasn’t right either. She hadn’t been at her mother’s party.
“Zachary, what are you doing here?” Even as she sat next to him, she swayed.
“You’re in my bed at my house,” he retorted. “I should be asking you the very same question.”
“I am?” She
shoved a hand through her hair, biting down on her lush lower lip and glancing
around at the splendidly furnished room with the high cathedral ceilings and
wall of windows that had somehow escaped his attention until then. A vast panorama of the night-darkened sky
studded with brilliant stars stretched before them. “You should?”
Deep concentration furrowed her brow and she seemed
lost, ethereally beautiful, a goddess of the moon who’d bewitched him an
eternity ago.
“Are you really here, Zach?” she asked, her sexy-soft
voice tinged with disbelief.
“I think so, Madi,” he said, the confession rumbling
from deep within his gut. He wasn’t sure
of anything at the moment. Not the place
he thought was his home. Or the girl in
the bed. “Are you really here?”
She giggled at the absurd question. Zach was sure she didn’t understand how
removed from his mind he felt.
Her slim fingers released the sheet and nipples the
color of wild cherries on firm, rounded breasts greeted his hungry gaze. “Now tell me if you think I’m really here,”
she said coyly.
Zach fought through the confusion dazing his
mind. While his penthouse was finely
furnished, the rooms were smaller, reflecting a bachelor’s functionality that
the opulence of his present surroundings lacked. Try as he might, he couldn’t force one iota
of sanity into his brain, reeling over Madigan’s presence and his strange, but
familiar surroundings.
He raised his gaze to her lovely face and reached out
to touch her, almost afraid that she would evaporate but unable to restrain
himself any longer. He’d fantasized
about touching her for three years, ever since he’d forced her to walk away
from him. Her skin was soft, warm, and
fragrant. His fingers began to roam
across her breasts, but then his hand suddenly seemed separated from his body,
floating away, into the air, like it had been amputated. What the hell?
Right. He was
flying. High. He could float away all at once or piece by
piece. It didn’t matter. The pieces would be put back together after
the coke and the alcohol wore off, just like a maddening puzzle that Madigan
had always accused him of being.
Swaying, he held up his arms and saw that he once again possessed both
hands. All the better to touch
Madigan. But she was gone, her being
there as much a figment of his imagination as his floating appendages. Zach’s shoulders slumped, disappointment and
defeat crushing the euphoria of having Madi with him again.
“Madi,” he said in a bleak, raw voice, hanging his
head into his hands.
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