Easy Virtue (28 page)

THERE’S SOMETHING TO BE SAID ABOUT BEING LAWRENCE’S SHINY FUCK TOY AND GETTING PAID TO BE ONE. LAWRENCE DOESN’T FUCK OR SCREW.

He fornicates … like an animal.

It’s dirty.

Wild. Unrepentant. Possessive.

It’s pleasure and pain all at once.

And me? I’ve seen him twice since our first night together and I can’t help but want him more after each time. I crave the way he numbs everything with his hard, gorgeous cock. I crave the way his hands worship me after they’ve punished me. And his tongue …

God have mercy on my vagina.

My cheeks burn just thinking about him. I should be ashamed by how much I like being used by him, but I’m no hypocrite. I love it. And the fact that our feelings aren’t involved makes it that much sweeter. Who doesn’t like a fast, angry fuck without the obligatory niceties? And let’s not forget about the expensive and frivolous gifts he leaves on the nightstand table waiting for me after a night spent on my back.

Or knees.

“I’m almost done!” I shout, hoping that Lawrence hears me. I was supposed to meet him in his Park Avenue townhouse an hour ago, but he got stuck in a meeting that ran longer than expected, making him late. Since he was already in Midtown for business, he decided to pick me up on his way home.

When he first walked in, I wanted to laugh out loud. It was quite difficult to watch such a masculine and rugged looking man being surrounded by all my frilly things. He looked like a fish out of water. I smile, shaking my head and dismissing the memory.

Where the hell are my shoes?

After I locate my crystal-encrusted pumps under an old Louie bag I haven’t used in ages, I put them on. I grab a clutch that matches my shoes, and fill it with cash, I.D., lip-gloss and keys.

“I’m ready,” I say, walking out of my bedroom. I hope he likes the simple, but very sexy little black dress I’m wearing. It clings to my curves seductively, showing off my legs and hourglass figure without being too slutty or screaming that I’m looking to get laid.

His head is down and I watch him as he types away on his—

“Oh my God. Is that a Blackberry? I had no idea people still used those ancient things,” I say, incredulity ringing in my voice.

He stops typing and looks up at the same time. “Yes, Blaire. People still use the—”

He stops talking, an arrested expression on his face, the moment his eyes land on me. “Them.” I walk toward him, pleased by how affected he seems. A small smile plays on my lips as I watch the way his eyes darken with desire. I watch him hungrily roam my face, breasts, hips, every single part of my body without any shame. The obvious admiration written in his every feature makes me feel wicked. Daring. Playful. Makes me feel like teasing the man who looks like an orgasm on legs.

By the time I make it to the couch, he’s already standing. “What do you think? Do you like it?” I ask as I begin to twirl painfully slow. I want him to admire and crave every slope and curve of my body.

He surprises me when he forcefully grabs me by the waist and pulls me close to him until our chests are touching. Even in my six-inch heels he towers over me, and I have to tilt my head back to be able to look him in the eye. Lust instantly thickens the air around us, making it harder to breathe. I run a hand through my hair, feeling nervous for the first time tonight. Lawrence leans down, grabs my face roughly between his hands and says, “Insolent girl. I’ll show you how much I like it when you’re in my bed.”

The images of him filling my body in every possible way swim in my head, my every thought drowning in desire. “Sounds like that could be dangerous, Lawrence,” I tease.

He laughs, and the sound is rich and throaty and so very delicious. “The best things in life always are. But I get the feeling that you like dangerous.”

I’m about to answer when he speaks once more.

“Do you really want to keep talking?”

I shake my head.

“Good because I’ve wanted to do this since I first walked in.”

“What’s that?” I murmur against his mouth, our breaths mingling together.

“This,” he says before his lips land on mine.

His kiss is like dark chocolate, bitter and laced with sweetness—an aphrodisiac. It’s darkness and light all at once. His kiss doesn’t ask. It takes. It demands total surrender, and I give it to him. I give him everything, whatever he wants. And I’m lost to it all. I’m lost to his tongue, to his lips, to his teeth that bite and feel like they draw blood. It hurts. It’s paradise. It makes my knees go weak. And it erases the memory of every kiss before him …

Except one.

When he pulls away, looking satisfied, I whisper breathlessly against his mouth, “You’re right.”

“Sweetheart, I’m always right. But what do you mean?”

“I
like
dangerous.” I grab the back of his head and pull him in for another kiss.

When we step out of my building, cool air caresses our skin. I turn to look at Lawrence, only to find him watching me with those striking green eyes of his. “What are you thinking about?” I smile.

Without breaking eye contact, he leans down, kisses the tip of my shoulder, and whispers in my ear, “Fucking you.”

My pulse picks up and my body buzzes with excitement as a hot blush covers my cheeks. I can still feel the smile on my lips when I spot the familiar black Rolls Royce parked outside my building
.
Expecting to see Tony, my gaze immediately goes to the man wearing an old-looking black suit I’ve seen before standing by the open passenger door, waiting for us.

When our eyes connect, shock hits me hard in the face, robbing me of the power to move. For a moment, I’m stunned. Speechless. I blink a couple of times to make sure that my eyes are not mistaken and that I’m not imagining things.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck.

Watching me with eyes that could potentially destroy me is the last man I hoped to ever see—the only man who ever made me want more.

Ronan.

To be continued …

I WANT TO THANK MY HUSBAND
and family for loving me and supporting me through it all. I love you more than words can ever describe.

Next I would like to thank each and every single person that helped me in creating Easy Virtue—my very special group of BETA readers. Without your help and feedback this book would have never been completed. Amy, Mint, Luna, Bridget, Ana Rita, Rosalinda, Melissa S., Megan, Chelsea, Katherine, Melissa E, Jennifer, Deana, Trisha—EV wouldn’t be what it is without you! I love you, girls.

Luna, I want to thank you so much for helping me out with all the teasers. You’re truly talented and such a giving, beautiful person. Thank you! <3

Jennifer, my beautiful and talented editor, thank you so much for being there for me and for dealing with my crazy. I wrote Easy Virtue, but it was your work and magic that made it readable and enjoyable. THANK YOU.

Ryn, I want to thank you for perfecting EV with your proofreading services. It was a pleasure working with you! I hope we can do it again.

Kassi, thank you so much for making EV pretty and for answering all my questions. You were always there for me when I had a question with regards to the formatting, and, as always, your work is exceptional and reliable.

Regina, the cover you created for EV took my breath away—It’s perfect. Your unbelievable talent humbles me and I can’t wait to see what you come up next with my next cover. Also, thank you so much for working tirelessly on this cover. I know it took us a while to get there, but it’s perfection.

Kelley and Ashley, thank YOU!!!

BIG, BIG SHOUT OUT to my girls in the ARSEN Discussion and Spoiler group. You guys have made that place something really special. Here is to hoping EV gives us as many hours of discussion as Arsen did. MAD LOVE TO YOU ALL!

I want to give a special shout out to all the bloggers and individuals that helped spread the word. No one would know about my novel if it weren’t for your help. I would be nothing without your help. Thank you for believing in me (again) and in EASY VIRTUE.

Also, special thanks to The Rock Stars of Romance for organizing a kick-ass cover reveal and blog tour. Lisa and Milasy, you lovely ladies are so wonderful to work with. Also, thank you to Natasha from Natasha is a Book Junkie for answering all my questions and for your help! Amy, Trish, Jennifer, and Jesey from Schmexy Girl Book Blog, thank you so much for your support! Big thank you to Angie from Angie’s Dreamy Reads, Christine from Shh Mom’s Reading, Sharon, Jenny and Gitte from Totally Booked, Yamara, Bethany from HEA Bookshelf, Dawn from Up all Night, Kathy from Love Words and Books, and Sophie from Bridger Bitches Book Blog.

To FYW, thank you for all your help! Liquidate that! ;)

Thank you to all my family and friends for putting up with me and for always being there for me. I know I’m forgetting someone and if I do know that I’m truly sorry. I love all the encouraging words, the lovely words from every single person that has stopped by my page and said hello. I love every single one of you.

This book would not be anything without the support and love from all of you. Thank
you
so, so much.

Kaleidoscope Hearts

by Claire Contreras

Prologue

The first boy I fell in love with used to regale me with stories about kings and queens and war and peace, and how he hoped to one day be somebody’s knight in shining armor. I lived vicariously through his late night adventures, watching the way he swung his hands animatedly as he told his stories and loving the way his green eyes twinkled when I laughed at his jokes.

He taught me what it feels like to be touched and thoroughly kissed. Later, he taught me the level of pain one feels at the loss of someone you’ve grown attached to. The one thing he forgot to teach me was how to deal with the pain that squeezed my chest after he broke the ghost of what heart I had left. I’d always wondered if it had been a missed lesson. Now I wonder if maybe he’d been trying to figure it out for himself, or if he just never felt anything at all.

Chapter One

They say the best way to move on is to let go. As if letting go is the easy part. As if trying to dim or erase three years of memories, good and bad, is something you can do in one day. For me, it’ll be one year in a couple of weeks, and the memory of him is as potent as if he was still here. His San Francisco Giants sandals are still in front of the sink, right where he left them. The smell of him still lingers on some of his shirts—the ones I still haven’t gotten around to wearing to bed. His presence is powerful even in his absence. I leave the sandals where they are because I can’t bear to put them away, I continue to walk around the house making sure everything else is in its place. I’m in the kitchen taping up the last of the boxes, when I hear the jingle of keys followed by heels on the hardwood. Another sound I’ll miss, I’m sure, once I leave this place.

“Estelle?” she calls out in her soft melodic voice.

“The kitchen,” I shout out, wiping my hands over my jeans as I make my way to her.

“Hey. You got a lot done last night,” she says, smiling sadly, her eyes glistening as she looks around the nearly empty space. She has the same wild curly hair and expressive caramel eyes her son had. Seeing her makes my heart hurt all over again.

I shrug, bite the inside of my cheek, and blink quickly so that I won’t cry. Anything not to cry. When Felicia pulls me into her arms, I let out a slow breath and try not to completely lose it. I try to be strong for her and Phillip. Wyatt was their only child and, as hard as his loss is on me, I can only imagine the emptiness they must feel. We usually don’t cry when we get together—not even when she comes over like this—but selling this place is more than just saying goodbye to a house. It’s leaving Christmas mornings and Thanksgiving dinners behind. It’s saying, “Wyatt, we love you, but life goes on.” And it does, which is one of the reasons I feel guilty. Life goes on, but why does it have to go on without him?