Teal and Trent face their worst nightmare in Indelible. Can Trent let go of his past in order to save his woman?
**Lighty edited and subject to change**
Obviously sensing her discomfort, Trent leaned in and kissed her. “And your ass had the nerve to question if I knew if you were ready or not. Look how hard you came. ” He took her hand, but Teal snatched it back. “Hey, no need to be embarrassed, baby.” Teal shot him a glare. “A lot of women come that way. It means I did a damned good job.” He showed his teeth in a big grin.
She playfully shoved at his chest. “You did wonderful, baby.” His wicked grin widened. “But, before we go in. Country music?” She glanced over to the bar in question. “I don’t listen to it.”
Trent crowded her space and leaned in. “It’s a part of my life. I like it, and I want to share it with you.” He looked down and tugged a curl between his fingers.
Placing her hands on her hips, Teal gave him a blast from the past. “Oh, I vaguely remember an event months ago, when I was jamming to my boy Usher, and the brute who was sitting behind to me just reached over me and turned it off.” She shoved a finger in his chest. “And, I am still waiting on my apology for that.”
His eyes dropped to the ground before meeting hers again. “Please?” He pushed away and held a hand out for her. Gone was the lust he’d showed just moments before. He’d ignored her tirade, hadn't given her anything close to an I’m sorry, but instead offered her his hand.
She sighed and laced her fingers between his, squeezing his hand tight. “Fine, but if I hear that Boot Scootin’ Boogie song, I’m fucking leaving.”
He chuckled as he pushed the truck door shut and led her to the bar.
Teal skidded to a halt. “Wait.” Trent slowed and turned back to her. “Give me back my panties.” Holding her hand out, she realized there was no place for her to go besides back to the car to put them back on.
Trent shoved his hand in his back pocket. “No.” Shoving the panties deeper into his pocket, he grabbed Teal’s hand and pulled her to the door. Just as the door opened and sound blasted out, she could hear Trent whisper, “Four down, ten to go.” Followed by his deviant laughter.
What in the hell did her man have in store for her, and why did it consist of holding undergarments for ransom?
Check out Inevitable before Indelible's release!
Former Marine, Trent Reed, is in desperate need of a Hail Mary.
With each failed attempt to convince his woman to pack up and move to Kentucky, his past finds some new way to rear its ugly head. But when his pregnant ex plows into his life, all hell breaks loose—unearthing parts of his past he wished would stay buried.
Two weeks of vacation with her man? Hell yeah, that is exactly what Teal Lofton’s libido needs. And after surviving seven months apart, their reunion doesn’t disappoint. What she didn’t account for was an unfortunate encounter with people from Trent’s past. A racist, a druggie, and a double-barreled shotgun, culminate into a vacation that will alter the course of her life forever.
“Fuck this shit,” Trent muttered, as beads of sweat gathered from the top of his head to the crack of his ass. Lifting his hands, he grabbed hold of the vehicle’s undercarriage and rolled himself out from underneath. For the life of him, he could not comprehend why the owner of this ‘69 Camaro continued to treat this baby as if it was some fucking Chevy Malibu.
Groaning, he stretched and stood, releasing the aches and pains from laying prone in one spot for so long. Using his arm, he swept the sweat away from his forehead, and took a few steps out of the partially covered garage and into the scorching sun. As the sun’s rays beat down on his skin, he lifted the sleeveless shirt he’d discarded earlier and wiped the remaining sweat from his face and neck.
The mid-summer sun had become a sweltering beast, transforming his skin from its normal pale coloring to a deep, dark bronze. He’d avoided a farmer’s tan solely because it was too damned hot to wear a shirt while working, unless he absolutely had to. Kentucky’s heat was so oppressive, Trent had considered—on more than one occasion—moving to a colder state. Maybe one that actually had a winter, and a mild-ass summer. The bar he frequented out of town even had a signature summer drink called Devil’s Ball Sweat, and as repulsive as it sounded, the drink itself was damned good. The thought of it had his mouth watering.
On leave from the Marines, Trent had found his way back home, and into the familiar grease and fumes of the auto body shop, where he’d slaved away as a teenager. But life had changed since high school. Trent was now in his mid-twenties, part owner of a garage, fully enlisted in the Marines, and waiting for the call of duty.
Logan’s voice pulled Trent from his musings and he near jumped out of his skin.
His friend’s brow lifted as he deliberately ignored Trent’s jitteriness. “Hey, man. You hungry?”
As if on cue, Trent’s stomach roared. He placed a greasy hand over his eyes, shielding the sun’s glare, to find Logan headed toward him with a 7/11 bag in hand. Trent nodded and moved to the sink, squirting some Fast Orange into his hands. Using his elbow to turn on the hot water, he shoved his hands under the steaming spray.
“You gonna work on this all day, or you planning on taking a real break? You’ve only been back home a few weeks and you haven’t done shit with anybody. Barely been out of the house.”
Trent turned to see a couple of hotdogs, a bag of chips, and a forty sitting on his workbench. Logan had already started in on his own food. Trent’s mouth watered at the sight. He’d been in the heat for most of the day, and skipping breaks to shorten the workday made sense, until he was dizzy with hunger, of course. Drying his hands, he grabbed a milk crate and carried it over to the workbench and sat down.
Trent had ignored Logan’s question, but his friend stared at him expectantly. Between gulps of his beer and a bite of his hot dog, he gave in. “Who’s been asking?”
Logan shook his head and took a hefty drink of his soda. He’d never been much of a drinker. “Nobody. It’s just, before you left, you were all over the place. This bar, that club, and now that you’re back . . .” he shrugged and let the sentence hang in the air.
Trent didn’t need anyone worrying about him. Besides, he’d gone to Gator’s a few times since his return. He’d taken care of himself for the past decade, with little to no help, yet Rhonda, the garage’s accountant, who’d taken a shining to Trent, was always up his ass about finding a woman and settling down.
That was the thing about a lot of women in the South. They always wanted to bag a man, settle down, and duplicate, but Trent wasn’t trying to hear it. The military had helped him perfect his ability to survive on his own. He didn’t need anyone else.
He moved the bottle from his lips and set down the chili and cheese hotdog, his stomach groaning in protest. “You been talking to Rhonda?” Trent couldn’t hold back his anger. Rhonda seemed to think she had his best interest at heart—her words, not his—and that shit was getting old.
Logan lifted his chin. “You always get pissed when she comes around. You messing with her?” Eying Trent with half-veiled disapproval, he added, “I see the way she looks at you, and that shit ain’t right. She’s old enough to be your mother.” He scarfed down the rest of his hotdog, while managing to keep a grimace on his face.
Trent cocked a brow. “I can tell you one thing. I’ve never seen a better pair of tits on a woman her age.” He smiled wildly at Logan’s appalled glare, waggling his eyebrows to goad him further.
Logan had less years under his belt, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d call the man a virgin. Yeah, Rhonda was in her mid-forties, but damned if she didn’t have long legs, a round ass, and tits too firm and high to be real. He could only imagine the things she knew and would be willing to do.
“Whatever, man. I brought it up because I’m headed to Louisville for a party. You want in?”
Trent finished one hotdog and opened the second before answering. “Who the hell wants to drive almost two hours for some party?” He shoved half the dog in his mouth.
Logan shoved his hands through his hair and stood. “Look, it’s been nothing but boring ass work since you’ve been gone. Hell, maybe I’ll join the military.” He picked up his trash and threw it in the nearby can. “There ain’t nothing to do here, other than work.”
Trent glanced up at the man. Was he actually thinking of joining the military out of boredom? There wasn’t a war going on, but being owned by the government was no picnic.
Trent started in on his chips. “Who do you know in Louisville that’s got you willin’ to drive over there for a party?”
“I feel like I’m in high school again,” Katie admitted with a smile. She was of course talking about the good days in high school when she wasn’t being teased or ignored.
Scott chortled in what sounded like disbelief. “What? How so?”
She didn’t want to sound like a moonstruck fool, but waiting by the phone for a guy to call brought back good and bad memories. She cuddled up under her blanket, moving the phone to her other ear so she could get comfortable. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t know what I’m talking about since you were never the one sitting by the phone waiting for a guy you liked to call you.”
He groaned, and Katie smiled at the affect she had over him at times. “So you do like me? And here I thought you only tolerated me because you had nothing else to do but wait for your novel to come back from the editor.” Katie could hear the laughter in his voice.
“Maybe it started that way, but things change.” She wondered if things were different, if they’d spontaneously met, if he would be interested in her. She didn’t know what he looked like, but his damned voice made her stomach drop and her heart thunder.
Scott’s voice grew serious. “What changed, Kristen?” At the sound of her fake name, Katie realized how silly it was to think that the two of them could ever be anything more than pen pals. What was even more ridiculous was the fact that she had told him about the night she’d lost her child, but she couldn’t tell him her real name. She wanted his time and honesty, but she hadn’t given him a hundred percent of what she demanded of him.
“Kathryn Andreassen,” she blurted.
“Who?”
The confusion in his voice almost made her laugh, but fear that he’d be pissed she lied kept the laughter at bay. “Scott, when I first signed up for this program, I . . . I didn’t give my real name.”
“Oh yeah?”
There was an edge to his voice that she’d not heard before. It didn’t sound like disappointment or even anger. “I was nervous about what I was doing and I—”
“You wanted anonymity,” he finished. “I get that.”
Yeah, well, at least she had wanted it at that time. “So you aren’t mad?” She sat up, comforted by how well he’d taken it.
“Not at all.”
Confused, Katie asked, “Why?”
A beat of silence passed before Scott spoke. “Because I did the same. My name isn’t Scott, its Logan. Logan Whyte. I lied for a different reason, though.”
The relief she’d just felt plummeted, and goose bumps settled over her skin.
“I didn’t want you to look me up and see what I’d done before I had a chance to tell you myself. By the time we’d gotten to the point where we could be straightforward with each other, I honestly forgot to tell you my real name.”
Katie was about to speak when the one-minute warning sounded, alerting them that the collect call was about to disconnect.
“Kris— I mean Kathryn—”
“Call me Katie, everyone does.”
“Okay. I’ll call you right back, I need to talk to you about something.” Logan hung up before Katie had a chance to reply.
She pressed the end button, got out of bed, and went to glance out the window. The snow was coming down in sheets, but in Vermont that wasn’t a big issue. It was the low visibility that worried Katie. The phone sounded and she placed it to her ear, listening as the automated voice droned on. Once she pressed one, Logan’s deep voice came on the line.
“Sweetheart, I want to talk to you about your phone bill.”
Katie groaned and sat down in her desk chair; she was scared as hell to look at her bill.
“Yeah, I know, but I enjoy talking to you. Your voice is the highlight of my day. I have an idea though.”
Katie perked up. “I’m listening.”
“Good, that’s my girl.” Whenever Logan called her things like his girl, honey, or sweetheart, her heart fluttered. “I’m going to get my lawyer to add money to my canteen. That way, I can call you and they’ll charge it to me. How’s that sound?”
Katie bit her lip. They hadn’t talked about financials, and she wasn’t sure what money Logan had . . . if any at all. “Are you sure? I mean, I haven’t gotten my bill yet, so it might not be too high.”
Logan grunted, and Katie had heard that sound enough to know that he didn’t agree. “No, it’s going to be sky high, and if you have a hard time paying it you let me know.” He sounded so sincere that Katie’s stomach fluttered.
“I’ll be fine,” she whispered.
“Don’t be shy. If you can’t pay it, you let me know.” He repeated.
“I will.” She knew she could afford it, but she wasn’t excited about seeing it. “So your lawyer is going to give you the money?” Seemed like a nice thing to do, but Logan had expressed to her many times that he didn’t like the man.
“No, my friend, Trent, sends me my money. I sold my truck and put him in charge of my finances. I trust him with my life,” he said earnestly.
“Sounds like a good guy.” Katie felt the same way about Teal, even though the woman seemed to want to take her dead mother’s place.
“He saved my ass from the black kids that constantly thought they saw a target on my ass. I swear, I was eighteen, white, and a bit chunky, and that’s all it took for those thugs to want to kick my ass.” He let loose a hollow laugh. Pain radiated from it, and Katie heard it loud and clear.
She wasn’t sure what to say, but if she hadn’t known before she knew now that Logan was white. That discovery aside, Katie had also had her share of times when black kids picked on her, but it wasn’t just black kids. It was black and white kids. Both races had their assholes.
“I know the feeling. When I was younger, I was never sure what made kids think I was such an easy target, but they did and I suffered.”
Logan’s voice grew gentle. “Baby, it’s because they are jealous of you. I know that’s a parental thing to say, but it’s true. They want what we have, and when they can’t have it, they steal it. Mexicans, too. They just stood and watched as I got the shit kicked out of me.”
Katie couldn’t help but feel sorry for Logan. “At least you had Trent. I’m glad you didn’t have to go at it alone.” And that was the honest truth. She had friends, but never ones who would stick around long enough, or even through the entire year. Logan’s situation would have been a lot worse if not for Trent, Katie was sure of it. She at least had her mom and dad and later on, Teal, but Logan only had his drunken uncle, Luke. “Things could have been real bad if he hadn’t helped, huh?”
“I probably would have gotten killed, so yeah, things would’ve been real bad if he hadn’t come along. Trent was into some real crazy stuff, and those thugs went running scared.” He laughed. “After that, I shaved my head, worked out every day, got a few custom tattoos, bought a gun, and dared those assholes to come near me.” Katie imagined a tall, well-built man, covered with tattoos, and a gun in his waistband. Besides the gun, the rest made a very sexy picture, even if she couldn’t imagine his face.
She lowered her voice, hoping to change the subject. “The picture you just painted doesn’t sound very intimidating to me.”
“Oh yeah?” She could hear him lick his lips. “What kind of picture are you imagining over there?” The timbre of his voice changed, leaving behind the anger and bringing forth something sexier, decadent even. After he’d hit on her during their first phone call—forcing her to hang up on him—she noticed he’d been choosing his words very carefully. However, little by little he’d been breaking down her walls, and on top of that, her loneliness was starting to get the better of her.
“Well,” she adjusted herself comfortably on her bed, “I can’t see your face of course, but you’ve said you are six foot two, you’ve worked out for the past fifteen years, and you eat right, taking pride in your body.” Katie sighed, and then let loose a little moan of appreciation. “You see what I’m getting at here?”
“Shit,” Logan whispered. “Yeah, I think I can see where your mind is going. You want to tell me more about that?”
Katie exhaled. “What the heck am I doing?” She sat up, her face hot with more than just nervousness. “I’m sorry.”
“Goddamn, girl. Don’t be sorry, be honest and tell me what you were thinking.” His voice was gruff, but not with anger.
Katie covered her mouth to keep her delighted laughter in.
At her silence, he whispered not unkindly, “Tease.”
“You know I don’t mean to be,” she said honestly. Katie was horny and so was Logan; she guessed eventually they’d joke and flirt about it, but that was it.
He cleared his throat, but she caught laughter in it. “I’m not sure. Babe, I’m gonna let you go. I need to call Trent and set up the money transfer to my canteen.”
Katie placed as much pout in her voice as she could. “Fine.” She could keep him on the phone longer if she wanted to, but she really did want him to set up a calling plan for them.
He groaned again, and Katie wasn’t too sure he was actually going to be making a phone call when he hung up, but maybe handling some personal business. Shame hit hard. She wasn’t a tease, and she didn’t want Logan rubbing one out on his own because of her. She sweetened her voice and said, “I have some preparing to do for this storm anyway, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Dominic
Natasha Knight
(Benedetti Brothers #2)
Publication date: November 11th 2016
Genres: Adult, Romance
Dominic
I was the boy who would never be king. The monster who could never be loved.
Gia was just a job. Just another girl caught in a world of monsters.
It didn’t matter that I liked the look of her.
I didn’t care that she cringed when she saw my soul.
I liked it.
I liked her fear.
It called to the beast inside me and I wanted her.Monsters didn’t get to live happily ever after though. And I neither forgave nor forgot. Old debts needed to be settled. Enemies punished.
It was past time I returned to the family business.
I’d been gone far too long.
Gia
All my life, I believed in fairy tales. Not the Disney kind. Never those. I always knew life was darker than that.
I was the daughter of a foot soldier. The sister of a snitch. A complete and utter nobody.
Monsters had been part of my life for as long as I could remember, but none as dark as Dominic Benedetti. None as cruel. None as broken.
I had no illusions about what he was. I had no desire to save his soul. And I couldn’t care about his bleeding heart.
But love wasn’t always beautiful. It wasn’t always kind or sweet. It could be a twisted, ugly bitch.
I’d always known this was the kind I’d find. The only kind that could touch me.
Because some of us, we belonged in the dark.
And Dominic and I belonged in the dark.Author’s Note: Dominic is the second book of the Benedetti Brothers duet. It is a steamy standalone romance. To fully understand the motivations and history behind Dominic’s actions, I recommend reading the first book in the set, Salvatore.
This book is intended for mature readers. No cheating and no cliffhanger.
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EXCERPT:
Dominic
Fear has a distinct smell, something that belongs only to it. Pungent. Acidic. And at the same time, sweet. Alluring, even.
Or maybe only sweet and alluring to a sick fuck like me. Either way, the girl huddled in the corner had it coming off her in waves.
I pulled the skull mask down to cover my face. The room was dark, but I could tell she was awake. Even if she held her breath and didn’t move a single muscle, I’d know. It was the scent. That fear. It gave them away every single time.
And I liked it. It was like an adrenaline rush, the anticipation of what was to come.
I liked fucking with them.
I closed the door behind me, blocking off the little bit of light I’d allowed into the small, dark, and rank bedroom. She’d been brought here yesterday to this remote cabin in the woods. So fucking cliché. Cabin in the woods. But that’s what it was. That’s where I did my best work. The room contained a queen-size bed equipped with restraints, a bedside table, and a locked chest holding any equipment I needed. The attached bathroom had had its door removed before my arrival. Only the bare essentials were there: a toilet, sink, and a shower/bathtub. The bathtub was truly a luxury. Or it became one at some point during the training period.
The windows of both the bedroom and the bathroom had been boarded up long ago, and only slivers of light penetrated through the slats of wood. Both rooms were always cold. Not freezing. I wasn’t heartless. Well…I had as much heart as any monster could have. I just kept the rooms at about sixty degrees. Just cool enough that it wouldn’t do any damage but it wouldn’t be quite comfortable.
I walked over to the crouched form on the floor. She stank. I wondered how long they’d had her. If they’d washed her during that time.
I wondered what else they’d done to her, considering the rule of no fucking on this one. My various employers didn’t usually give that order. They didn’t give a crap who fucked the girls before auction. It’s what they were there for. But this time, Leo—the liaison between the buyer and me—had made certain I understood this particular restriction.
I shoved the thought of rape aside. I didn’t do that. Whatever else I did to them, I didn’t do that. Some tiny little piece of my fucked-up brain held on to that, as if I were somehow honorable for it.
Honor?
Fuck.
I had no delusions on that note. Honor was a thing that had never belonged to me. Not then, not when I was Dominic Benedetti, son of a mafia king. So close, so fucking goddamned close to having it all. And it certainly didn’t belong to me now. Not now that I knew who I was. Who I really was.
More thoughts to shove away, shove so far down they couldn’t choke me anymore. Instead they sat like cement, like fucking concrete bricks in my gut.
I stepped purposefully toward the girl, my boots heavy and loud on the old and decrepit wood.
“Wakey, wakey.”
She sat with her knees pulled up to her naked chest, her bound wrists wrapped around them, and made the smallest movement, tucking her face deeper into her knees. I noticed she still wore underwear, although it was filthy. That was new. By the time they got to me, they were so used to being buck naked they almost didn’t notice anymore.
The three night-lights plugged into outlets around the bedroom allowed me to take her in. Dark hair fell over her shoulders and down her back. So dark, I wondered if it would be black after I washed the dirt and grime from it.
I nudged the toe of my boot under her hip. “You stink.”
She made some small sound and dug her fingernails into the flesh of her legs, crouching farther into the corner, folding and withdrawing deeper into herself.
I squatted down, looking at what I could see of her too skinny body. I’d check her for bruises later, once I cleaned her up. Make sure there wasn’t anything that needed immediate attention. No festering wounds acquired in transit.
“Did you piss yourself?”
She exhaled an angry breath.
I grinned behind my mask. There we go. That was different.
“Lift your head, so I can see your face.”
Nothing.
I lay one of my hands on top of her head. She flinched but otherwise didn’t move. I gently stroked her head before gripping the long thick mass of hair and turning my hand around and around, wrapping the length of it tight in my fist before tugging hard, jerking her head back, forcing her to look at me.
She cried out, the sound one of pain and anger combined. They matched the features of her face: eyes narrowed, fear just behind the rebellion in her hate-filled, gleaming green eyes. Her mouth opened when I squeezed my fingers tighter, and a tear fell from the corner of one eye.
“Get your hands off me.”
Her voice sounded scratchy, low, like she hadn’t spoken in a long time. I looked at her. Heart-shaped face. Full lips. Prominent cheekbones.
Pretty.
No, more than that. Aristocratic almost. Arrogant. Beautiful. Different.
Different than the usual girls.
She scanned my face. I wondered if the skull mask scared her. Fuck, it had scared me the first time I’d put it on. Nothing like death staring you in the face.
“Stand up,” I said, dragging her by her hair as I straightened.
She stumbled, but I kept hold of her, tilting her head back, watching her process the pain of my fist in her hair. Teaching her.
Actions spoke louder than words. I always started my training from minute one. No sense in wasting time. She’d learn fast to do as she was told, or she’d pay. She’d learn fast that life as she knew it was over. She was no longer free. No longer human. She was a piece of fucking meat. Owned.
Owned by me.
That first lesson was always hardest for them, but I was nothing if not thorough.
I guess you could say I’d found my true calling.
Author Bio:
Natasha Knight is a USA Today Bestselling author. She is passionate about writing dark, tortured heroes some of whom seem more like the ultimate anti-hero, and the women who fall for them. She loves reading and writing dark romance and started out quite accidentally as a spanking romance author. All of her stories contain at least one kinky Alpha male, lots of dirty talk, intense feels, and a hard-earned happily ever after.
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