From New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal best-selling author, Georgia Cates, comes a steamy new standalone contemporary romance novel.
Beau Emerson is no gentleman.Those hazel eyes.
That filthy mouth.
That greedy, hard body.
It all equates to one thing. Irresistible.
One look and I know he’ll bruise my lips and scar my knees. He’ll give me the best nine days of my life while ruining me in the most beautiful way imaginable. And I’ll let him because he has the power to talk me into anything.
Except one thing.
Staying.
I have no choice. The things I desire from him will destroy me in the end. I want more than he’s capable of giving––something true and beautiful.
He can never know how much of me belongs to him. Too much is at stake.
Shh … don’t tell him he’s my everything.
My name is Anna James Bennett. And this is our story.
Prologue:
I
sigh as I toss the thick legal envelope across the island in Meredith’s gourmet
kitchen. The proof of my marriage’s dissolution barely comes to a stop before
plummeting over the edge. “It’s final, as of today.”
My
best friend, Meredith, squeals. “Yes. This calls for a celebratory drink.”
The
word celebratory implies happiness or joy. That isn’t the case for me. My
husband of twelve months left me for a nineteen-year-old. A kid. His former
student.
Fucker.
He
swears nothing happened while she was his pupil.
Liar.
He
claims it’s true love.
Dumbass.
Drake’s
relationship with Caitlyn is fleeting. She’s an immature teen who wants to play
house. The paint won’t dry on the walls of their new apartment before she’s
ready to bail.
“I’ve
been saving this one for a special occasion.” Ahh. A bottle of Wittmann Westhofener
Morstein Riesling. Always rich in body and texture. My favorite.
Gulp. Gulp. The bottle gurgles as Meredith pours
far more than three ounces. My glass is three-quarters full when she presses
two fingers against the base and glides it across the sleek Carrara marble
toward me. I instantly salivate when the essence of honey, peach, mango, and
flowers invades my nostrils.
Meredith
lifts her glass, cueing me to the toast she’s about to make. “Here’s to the end
of an error––your misconception that Drake Langston was a knight in shining
armor rather than what he really is—a turd in tinfoil.”
“I
know that’s the truth.” I tap my glass against hers before taking the first sip
of dry, fruity goodness. Damn, that’s good stuff.
“Capone
made sure you got everything you wanted?”
Alec
Capone is the most successful divorce attorney in Georgia. He should be with a
name like that. “I got more than I wanted, including custody of Little Bastard,
since Drake relinquished ownership of him. Caitlyn’s allergic.” I’m epically
pissed off about him dumping his cat on me.
“Are
you keeping the lil’ guy?”
“I
haven’t decided.” Kermit, AKA Little Bastard, has no love for me. Doesn’t
matter that I’ve been the one who has fed him his every bite, changed his
litter box every time, taken him to the vet for every visit, even the time he
was deathly ill from eating part of my foam flip-flop.
“You
won’t have a problem if you decide to re-home him. He’s beautiful. Plenty of
cat lovers would take him just because he’s a Bengal.”
Kermit
was Drake’s trophy cat. Pretty to look at and that’s about it. Much like
Caitlyn.
I
have no emotional connection to Little Bastard. I’ve tried to bond but he’s
resistant. That’s why I’m so surprised by the way I feel when I think of giving
him away. He’s resistant to loving me.
Just like Drake.
“I
got my name back.” That’s what I wanted most. Bennett. My daddy’s name.
The
wrinkle in Meredith’s brow serves as a warning. It’s always a prelude to
something serious. “I understand those papers feel like a painful ending but
that’s because they’re disguising what today is. A new beginning. Grayson and I
think it’s important for you to treat this as a fresh start.”
Meredith
disappears into the dining room and returns with a gift bag covered in curly
ribbon and filled with tissue paper.
“Your
divorce gift. Read the card first.”
I
open the envelope and read the message aloud. “Congratulations on your divorce.
We hated him.”
“No
secret there.” I already knew Meredith and Grayson despised Drake.
I
rip into the bag, tossing aqua and lime tissue paper in every direction. I’m
worse than a child when it comes to tearing into gifts.
I
take out each item and place it on the countertop. Sunscreen. Ray-Bans. The
ridiculously expensive bikini I lusted for at that expensive boutique in
Buckhead. And condoms.
“Sur…prise.
Grayson and I are taking you to Jamaica with us next month.”
Umm
… not just no. “Forget it. Not happening.”
“Oh,
it’s happening. We’ve already booked two suites and your airline ticket. First class.”
She’s
out of her mind. I’m not going to that
place. “Cancel one. Unless you and Grayson plan to use separate suites.”
“Can’t
cancel. It’s Wicked Week at the resort so both rooms had to be paid for in
full. Nonrefundable.”
This
is her way of guilting me into doing what she wants. She thinks I’ll say yes if
her money won’t be returned. “You’re so wrong for doing this to me.”
“You
need a getaway and we knew you’d never agree otherwise. Don’t be mad.”
I’m
not mad. I’m pissed. I’ve already made plans for the next three months. “I’m
taking a second job while school’s out for summer. There’s no way an employer will
give me vacation time four weeks after hiring me.”
“Maybe
not, unless your bosses are Meredith and Grayson Faulkner. Come to work for us
and we’ll guarantee you the time off. There won’t be a reason in the world you
can’t go.”
Right.
No reason in the world unless you consider the fact this all-expenses-paid
vacation is for a getaway at a hedonism resort. A freaking no-holds-barred sex
retreat.
I’m
neither a hede nor a swinger.
Meredith
Faulkner has been my best friend since ninth grade. We’ve been through thick
and thin. There’s nothing she and I haven’t shared, apart from one huge
exception.
Meredith
and Grayson practice hedonism. They chase pleasure in any form it presents.
They’re also part of a local community known to many as the lifestyle. They’re swingers. Wife Swappers.
Whatever
floats their boat is fine by me. I don’t judge. But hedonism and swinging ain’t
my thang. I’m not into casual sex. I prefer intimacy with a man I love, and
always within the boundaries of a committed relationship.
Call
me old-fashioned but I need more than a physical connection. A quick fuck with
a person I’ve just met isn’t my cup of tea. Neither is having sex with someone
else while my husband watches. Or the other way around.
“Don’t
be worried about the money. Indulge is all-inclusive. You won’t be out a dime.”
I
am cash-strapped but Meredith knows my resistance is unrelated to my financial
status. “I don’t practice hedonism and I’m not a swinger. I have no business
going to Indulge.”
“It’s
Jamaica, mon! There are plenty of activities that have nothing to do with
hedonism or swinging.” She picks up the top of the bikini she just gifted me
and holds it up over my shirt. “Think of how great you’ll look on the beach in
this.”
I’m
not denying I need an escape from this hell I call reality but I don’t want it
to be at Indulge, even if all expenses are paid. “Seeing you and Grayson with
other people will be a problem for me.”
“Then
we’ll ensure you don’t.”
“What
kind of things would there be for me to do?”
“Let
me grab my laptop and I’ll show you.”
The
website for Indulge makes it appear to be a classy establishment. But looks can
be deceiving. “This isn’t what I was expecting.”
“Hedonism
resorts are like anything else. There are different levels. Go to a hundred
dollar a night establishment and you’ll get what you pay for. Indulge is five
stars all the way so it’s only the best accommodations and amenities for its
guests.”
Meredith
navigates to the page of offered activities. The list is huge. “You’ve always
wanted to try snorkeling and scuba diving.”
“True.”
I wanted an island honeymoon where Drake and I could do those things together.
He took me to the mountains instead, the last place I wanted to go, because it
was cheaper.
“I
know you don’t think so but this is your kind of vacation, Anna James. The
pools are luxurious. The beaches are white with the bluest water you’ve ever
seen. You’re provided with all the alcohol and food you can hold. Calories
don’t count there.”
“Well,
that changes everything.”
“The
service is magnificent. You can lie on the beach, in this new bikini, and have
drinks brought to you by a handsome cabana boy. Who wouldn’t enjoy that?”
I
imagine the serenity of being on a Jamaican beach. I envision the sun warming
my skin. It lightly glistens with sweat but I’m not hot because the breeze
cools me when it blows against my sun-kissed skin. The rush of the waves
rolling in and out is steady. It’s my favorite sound in the world. A perfect
recipe for relaxation.
My
lovely imagery is interrupted by a notion—some old naked coot standing beside
me where I’m sunbathing on a lounger. I look over to see who’s blocking the sun
and his spunk spitter is staring me down. “I don’t want some dude’s frank ’n
beans in my face.”
Meredith
bursts into laughter. “Despite what you think, the men don’t go around shaking
their balls like maracas.”
“I
won’t be hounded?” That would piss me off. And completely ruin my good time.
“You’re
a beautiful woman. I don’t think it’s possible for you to not be propositioned.”
I’ve
spent my life being compared to a life-size version of Barbie. Long blonde
hair, blue eyes, but petite. At five four, I don’t have those mile-long, lean
legs like the doll.
I’ve
never had a problem with men finding me attractive. Except my own husband. I must have aged out for him since he likes
’em young.
“There’s
a policy in place and everyone adheres to it. All you have to say is ‘I
appreciate your interest, but no thank you.’ They won’t bother you after that.
Harassment isn’t allowed. Anyone who doesn’t abide by the rules is made to
leave.”
“But
what about the one refusing to take no for an answer?” It never fails. There
will be one in the bunch.
“There’s
always someone at Indulge who will say yes. They don’t waste their time on uninterested
people.” Well, that makes sense.
I
hear the garage door lifting. “Sounds like G’s home.”
Meredith
beams. Three years of marriage and she still lights up like a candle for him.
Yet she’ll have sex with another man. Their marriage is an enigma I don’t think
I’ll ever understand.
“Grayson’s
comfortable with me going to the resort with y’all?”
“It
was his idea. He wants to do something nice for you. Let him.”
G’s
a good friend. Loyal. Protective. So much so I thought he was going to kill
Drake when he found out what he’d done to me. I adore him for that; it was nice
to know I had someone in my corner.
Grayson
enters from the garage and is nearly tackled by their golden retriever,
desperate for his daily dose of petting from his master. “Hey, Howie. Were you
a good boy today?”
“No,
he damn sure wasn’t,” Meredith calls outs. “He snuck into the laundry room and
stole my favorite panties from the laundry basket. He chewed a big-ass hole in
the crotch.”
Grayson
chuckles loudly before giving Howie one last scratch behind his ears.
“It’s
not funny. It’s the third pair this week.”
My
best friend’s husband comes to her and kisses the side of her face. It’s so
loving. Normal. Someone looking in from the outside couldn’t possibly imagine
the things they do behind closed doors. “Howie knows I like you in crotchless
panties.”
Meredith
gasps and slaps his arm. “Stop. Don’t say things like that in front of Anna
James.”
Grayson
grins in my direction. He’s so handsome. Dark hair graying at the temples.
Bright blue eyes. I wouldn’t dare share him with another woman if I were
Meredith. “My dear wife would totally say something like that in front of you.”
He’s
almost right. “No. She would say much worse.”
Meredith
winks at me. “I absolutely would but only because I can. I’m her best friend.”
Grayson
gestures to the gift bag on the counter. “Is AJ still calling you a friend
after opening our gift?”
I
pick up the card. “I loved this. And the bikini.”
Grayson
smirks. “What about our offer?”
I
don’t know what to say. To decline feels like a shitty, ungrateful thing. To accept
feels wrong. Wicked.
“Don’t
think about what kind of resort it is or what goes on there. It’s the change of
scenery and escape from life that you need. Think of it as a palate cleansing.”
All
valid points.
A
palate cleansing. I like that idea. A lot. “Okay. I’m in.”
Meredith
squeals and darts to where I’m sitting. She throws her arms around me and
squeezes tightly. “You’re going to have the time of your life. This is going to
be a getaway you’ll never forget. I guarantee it.”
I’m
certain it will be an experience I’ll never forget. Even when I try.
Now,
to find someone to keep Little Bastard.
Buy links:only 99 cents today!!
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Georgia resides in rural Mississippi with her wonderful husband, Jeff, and their two beautiful daughters. She spent fourteen years as a labor and delivery nurse before she decided to pursue her dream of becoming an author and hasn’t looked back yet.
When she’s not writing, she’s thinking about writing. When she’s being domestic, she’s listening to her iPod and visualizing scenes for her current work in progress. Every story coming from her always has a song to inspire it.
Representation: All questions regarding subsidiary rights for any of my books, inquiries regarding foreign translation and film rights should be directed to Jane Dystel of Dystel & Goderich.
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