Her Godfather: A Dark Romance (With FREE Bonus Book: Trapped In His World) (14 page)

Chapter Eight

I let out a laugh at one of Patrick’s jokes. It has been two weeks since I left Jason, or after he allowed me to leave, rather. Patrick finally gave me a call a few days ago. His call came at the right time. I was so deep in depression that I saw no possible way of digging myself out. I have cried every single night for the past two weeks, over a man who caused me nothing but hurt. Not even Chloe could console me or help me out of my rut. But hanging out with Patrick for the past two nights has done wonders.

He makes me laugh and feel…
normal
. This is how a relationship is supposed to be: light and easy and non-toxic. Then why do I wish Jason would walk through the door of this restaurant? I would just like to see him again, that’s all. Just to know that he is okay, although I imagine that he has already moved on. He probably has some supermodel tied to his bed right this moment. That thought affects me a little too much for comfort. I give a mental growl, totally annoyed with myself. I push thoughts of Jason aside and focus on what Patrick is saying.

“Can I just say again how gorgeous you look?” Patrick says.

I smile brightly, “But of course you can, thank you.” He laughs. My time with Jason sure helped me to loosen up tons. Before him, I would be sitting in front of Patrick, quiet as a mouse, not even sure what to say to him. I sigh inwardly. Thoughts of Jason have managed to creep in once again.
Damn it.
“I’m really glad you called, Patrick. I enjoy your company immensely.”

He grins, “Likewise. So what do we do now? Would you like to go out for a coffee or something?”

“Yeah, sure.” I definitely don’t want to go home yet. I know I will just end up sitting on my bed in total silence and obsessing over Jason—damn the man. He still manages to consume my life even though we are no longer together. But I can’t help myself. When I am not reminiscing on the sex and his hands on me, I worry about him. After what he revealed to me about his past, I often wonder how he is doing psychologically. It’s only natural for me to worry. I still love him. My love for him isn’t going to just disappear. I am always going to have feelings for the first man I ever fell in love with.

It’s almost midnight when Patrick drops me off at home. He insists on walking with me to my apartment, but I assure him that I will be fine. So he just follows me to the main entrance. I spot a car in the darkness, and whip around to do a double take. Is that Jason’s car? “I had a great time tonight, Navia. Maybe we can do this again soon?”

I glance at the familiar car again and answer, “Uh, yeah, sure.  Had a great time too, thanks.”

Patrick follows my darting gaze, “Are you all right?”

I turn to look at him and smile. “Hmmm. So give me a call sometime and we can arrange another date.”

“Sounds great.” He takes me off guard, pulling me into a kiss. He releases me before I can even react. “Have a good night, Navia.” He walks back to his car.

Wow, OK, I wasn’t expecting that. I peer into the darkness, trying to get a better look at the parked car. There is no way it can be Jason’s. But before I turn to go inside, the man himself steps out of the vehicle. I gawk at him as he strolls toward me. He seems angry. I roll my eyes. When isn’t the man angry?

“You sure have moved on fast, Navia,” he sneers.

I ignore his comment. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I stop by to say hi?”

“Um, no. You no longer have the right to do that. I’m going in.”

“I will walk with you, seeing as how your
date
didn’t bother to see you safely inside. What a gentleman,” he scoffs sarcastically.

I sigh, “Whatever.” I know he won’t take no for an answer anyway. We reach my door. “Well, are you ready to tell me what you are doing here?” I have to admit, I’m kind of glad to see him. At least I know now that he is OK. I stare up at him. He looks damn good. I realize then that I have missed him.

He seems uncomfortable. “I uh— I missed you. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

I arch an eyebrow. “You could have just called, instead of showing up at my place in the middle of the night. That is pretty stalker-like of you,” I tease.

His lips curl into a grin. “I guess I really wanted to see you.”

“Well, you’ve seen me, so what now?” I ask jokingly. All humor disappears when his gaze drops to my lips. He snakes out an arm and pulls me to him. I let out a shriek just as he kisses me. His lips move over mine and all logic goes out the wind. I wound my arms around his neck and kiss him back with everything that I have. He releases me to take the key from my grip. He has me half undressed before he we even step into my apartment. I tear at his clothes with equal fervor. We don’t make it past the door. He lifts me onto him and pins me against the door. My legs wrap around his waist and he enters me in one swift motion. I let out a loud cry. “
Oh, Jason,
” I breathe. The feel of him inside of me is exquisite. He pumps into me with an enthusiasm brought on by two weeks apart.

I can tell he missed me as much as I missed him. “More, Jason, please,” I surprise myself by begging for more. He lets out a growl and pins my wrist above my head with one hand. He hammers harder into me until I am sobbing with my release. He swallows my scream of pleasure by placing his lips over mine. His lips move violently over mine until his body vibrates with his orgasm. He spills himself into me. When I come down from my high, I realize that we didn’t use any protection.
Shit
. I suppose neither of us had time to think about that, not with the urgency of needing to be connected.

Jason’s breathing is still ragged. He eases me down until my feet touch the floor. I lean against the door, unable to hold myself up. That was wild. By now my senses have returned. What the hell did I just do? I groan loudly and cover my face in shame. “What’s wrong?” Jason asks, while pulling up his pants.

I glare at him. He seems quite satisfied with himself. “
What’s wrong
? Everything is wrong! That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

He tilts my chin with his fingers. “But you did enjoy it, didn’t you? You can’t deny that you missed the feel of me inside of you, because I sure as hell missed being buried deep inside of you.” He carries his face closer to mine, so that his lips hover inches above mine. “I still fantasize about tying you to my bed, Navia.”  His hands reach up to span my neck, but his grip remains loose. His gaze burns into mine, “I still want to hurt you and make you scream, but from too much pleasure.”

I close my eyes and a whimper escapes my lips. My breathing is erratic and I want him to do those things to me right now. My God, what is wrong with me? I take a steadying breath. “Get out,” I whisper.

“What?” He pulls back and frowns. “Is that what you really want?”

No
. “Yes,” I breathe. “Go now, I won’t let you pull me back into your web of depravity,” I hiss.

His eyes blaze with rage and he grabs me by the neck. By the maddening expression in his eyes I half expect him to strangle me. I gasp, my eyes widening like saucers. But he doesn’t hurt me. His eyes just pierce into mine. “Is it because of
him?
That guy you were with tonight? Because you are
mine,
Navia.”

Enraged, I push hard at his chest. “I don’t belong to you, Jason. I left you, remember?”

He reaches up to run his thumb over my bottom lip. He then cups my face and plants a single kiss on my mouth. “Yes, my sweet Navia. I let you delude yourself for two weeks. I never truly let you go,” he whispers. “But now you are running around town with another man. I won’t have it,” he growls.

I wrench my face from his palms. “Get out, you sick bastard,” I spit. “If you don’t leave right now, I will scream until the police get here.” My chest is heaving with rage. How dare he brand me as
his
? How dare he imply that he still controls my life? In that moment I hate him more than I love him. His lips curl into his signature wicked grin, and he steps back. “I will give you what you want, for now Navia.” He walks slowly out the door and pulls it shut.

My entire body shakes with anger. Tears spill down my cheeks. I cry because I know he is right. I will never escape him. I don’t think I want to. Deep down I know that I really am his.

*

Three weeks have passed since my encounter with Jason in my apartment. Now, I can’t walk through the door without remembering him taking me in that same spot. I was doing so well until I laid eyes on him again. Now I’m back at square one. I don’t leave my apartment unless it is to go to work. I ignore Patrick’s calls and texts. I can’t go out with him and pretend to be happy. I have sunken back into depression. I sit at my kitchen table and stare aimlessly at the wall.

I am tempted to pick up the phone and call Jason, just to hear his voice. Where is he, anyway? I thought he would have found his way back here by now. He did declare that I am his, and he will never let me go.
The bastard
. I still hate him for it. Yet, I sit here and pine over the man. I long to feel his naked body pressed against mine. Hell, I even long for him to tie me up and fuck me senseless. A secret part of me wants him to show up and make me scream like he said. I’m starting to think I’m just as depraved as he is. Except I’m a masochist and he is a sadist. My God, we make a perfect match.  I close my eyes and imagine his hands caressing my skin, going from gentle to rough in an instant. I sigh. No one has ever made me feel the way he has, and I suspect no one ever will.  

Chloe tells me to call him because it is obvious that I can’t get over the man. I think I should take her advice. Who knows how long it will take for him to pay me another visit? It could be another month. I might just go insane with want and longing by then. I pick up the phone and dial his number. He doesn’t answer. Where the hell is he? He’s probably still angry with me for kicking him out of my apartment right after we had sex. But he has only himself to blame for that. I can take it no longer. I grab my handbag and head out the door.

About an hour later, I am pounding on Jason’s door. He doesn’t answer, so I knock harder. I am prepared to kick down the damn door if I have to. He yanks the door open sporting a deep scowl. “
What
?” he growls. His eyes widen when he sees that it’s me. He blinks twice and looks down at the glass in his hand. “I think I drank too much,” he mutters.

“For God’s sake, Jason, it’s me. I’m really here.” I push my way inside. My nose wrinkles; he reeks of alcohol. He looks like he has not shaved in days, maybe weeks. He is a mess. He looks much like how I feel. He rests his glass down on the glass center table.

“What brings you here?” he asks softly. “Not that I’m not happy to see you.”

I waste no time. “I’m miserable without you, Jason. I have tried to convince myself over and over that I don’t need you. But I do. I need you, depraved and twisted mind and all.” I step closer to him. “I find myself longing for you to tie me up and hurt me.” His eyes widen; I think he is speechless. I find that very amusing. I have never seen him speechless before. “I want to be with you, and if that means embracing every dark, perverse thing that you are capable of, I will do so.”

“Are you sure about that, Navia? Do you really think you can accept every part of me?” His eyes peer into mine, searching for any sign of uncertainty.

“I’m sure.” I stand on the tips of my toes to reach his lips with mine. I wrap my hand around his neck and pull his head down to mine. His hands remain at his sides. I urge his mouth open with my tongue, and he lets me in. I feel his body relax and his hands lift to snake around my waist. We kiss with renewed passion for I don’t know how long. I finally pull away from him to take a breath. “I’ve missed you, Jason. I don’t know why I walked away in the first place. I love you.”

He swallows, “I love you, too. I’m glad you found your way back to me. I don’t think I can live without you either, Navia.”

My lips curve into a smile. “I’m happy I did too. Extremely happy.” I look into his eyes with the same smoldering intensity that he would deliver. “Now take me to your bedroom and do your worst.”

About Stella Noir

Stella Noir is a new voice of dark romance. She loves everything forbidden,

and enjoys pushing the limits of what readers enjoy. Her hope is to show readers the good in the bad.

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Also By Stella Noir:

Trapped In His World

The Dark Doctor

Silent Daughter: Owned

Broken

Bub: Dark Contemporary Romance

About Roxy Sinclaire

Roxy Sinclaire writes steamy, suspenseful romantic stories as the main genre, and this includes a variety of different topics. Some of these include dark romances, action packed romances, mafia romances, and many more. She currently works in customer relations in New York City, but is trying to fulfill her passion in writing and eventually have her dream job become a reality.

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If you have comments, suggestions, or just want to get in touch, e-mail Roxy

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Visit her site at
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Also by Roxy Sinclaire:

Trapped In His World

Entitled: A Bad Boy Romance

Excerpt from
Entitled: A Bad Boy Romance

I step into the private restroom, take a deep breath, and call my friend.

“I can’t do it,” I rush before Monique has the chance to pop out a greeting. “I can’t spend the evening with him. I just can’t.”

The tiled bathroom floor receives the brunt of my agitation, as pacing seems to calm my nerves a bit, but not enough.

“Calm down,” she orders. “What did he do? I got bail money under the mattress, if I have to come beat his ass.”

“He’s been a perfect gentleman,” I nearly yell in disbelief. “His father had me pumped up to meet this pompous, anger-filled miscreant, and Devlin is nothing of the sort. He bought me clothes, paid for hair and makeup and a limo just to have me stand by his side while he showered me with compliments all night!”

“The dog,” Monique exhales sarcastically. “I’m going to tell you like Ms. Agnes would—carry yourself right back in there and enjoy that man.”

“You don’t understand. I can’t do that. He’s been too sweet for me to keep leading him on.”

“So he’s getting to you?” Monique says. “It’s alright to care about him as a person. You’re helping him become better.”

I shake my head.

I have crossed so many lines already.

“I have to tell him what I do and why I am here. I need to confess,” I say.

I look at myself in the mirror.

“And what about Ms. Agnes? What about getting the office space that you need?” she says. “You’ve more than outgrown that broom closet at the community center. Focus on the goal.”

A knock at the door startles me.

“You all right in there?” Devlin’s smooth voice, and the image of his tall, handsome body leaning against the door, coming to check on me, cause the flutters return as though they’d never been absent.

“Why does he keep being so nice?” I whisper to Monique.

Devlin knocks again.

“Ayron,” he calls.

“He’s outside of the door,” I snap into the phone while searching through the small space for a window, porthole, trap door or something. “I can’t face him again, Mo.”

“Do I need to call an ambulance?” he asks.

“I’m all right, Devlin,” I squeak.

“You can do this, Ayron,” Monique reassures. “The ends will justify the means.”

Ending the call with Monique, I open the door to Devlin.

“Is everything all right?” He examines me, his gorgeous brows furrowed. He places a steady hand on my cheek. “I thought you may have done a disappearing act on me, until coat check said they saw you slip in here.”

“I’m fine,” I stutter, lost in the feeling of his caress.

“I wish that I could say the same.”

“What’s wrong?” It is my job to worry about him, to comfort him.

“I need you. This—” His mouth is against mine before I can speak.

If my mind would have allowed me to protest, I would have, but not telling myself the truth is futile. I want him.

His skillful tongue breaches the cavern of my mouth, mapping the precise route to elicit moans. Heat courses through me. Devlin had skyrocketed me to a new place of pleasure with just the tangle of his tongue against mine.

In a swift motion, he hoists me against the wall and releases my breast from the strapless gown. His hot tongue trails kisses down my neck onto my chest until capturing my hardened nipple. Each suckle lulls me further into a dream world. His world, and I am ready to sign up for citizenship, allow him to plant his flag in my fertile soil and claim me.

Locking my legs around him, I feel the full rise of his hardness between my thighs, and I water at the thought of how good he could make me feel with other parts of his body if he works his tongue this well.

I give in to the indulgence, a scorching shot of desire for this model-built man damaging my self-control.

He tastes as good as he looks, and feels even better. Our tongues collide, and I am at a loss for words. I can only moan.

Devlin moves his zipper loose and sanity begins to seep in.

I tear my face from his.

“I can’t,” I pant. “I can’t do this.”

His ragged breaths fall against my neck as he nuzzles the crevice.

“No worries, babe,” he whispers between kisses. “I’ll take care of you.”

I wiggle and motion for him to let me down.

“This isn’t right,” I say.

Devlin helps me to my feet and I fall against him, resting against his heaving chest and thumping pulse.

He encapsulates me with his arms.

“I’m not out to just hit it and quit it,” he explains, placing a kiss on my head. “I have never met a woman as caring and wise and as beautiful as you.”

I look into his eyes.

“Then there is no rush,” I remind him. “Good things come to those who wait. You agreed to my thirty-day trial period.”

He punctuates his compliance by drawing in a long breath.

I step out of his embrace and fix my clothing. He tucks and straightens his clothing as well.

“If that’s what it takes, then I’ll wait,” he exhales with a shake of his head.

I gather my emotions and willpower before exiting.

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Entitled: A Bad Boy Romance