Genre Romantic Suspense/ Erotica
Publication Date June 19th 2013
But not all nightmares can be driven away.
When Bastian’s former mentor comes into the picture and presents him with an ultimatum, Bastian slips into old habits. Though he wants to shield Raine from the truth, the shady circumstances of his past form into a hurricane he can’t control. In an effort to protect her, Bastian has no choice but to throw himself back into his old job – death match tournaments – just one last time.
Dropped into the arctic wilderness with weapons loaded, Bastian has to compete against representatives from major crime lords all over the states. He’s studied his competition, he knows their weaknesses, and he’s ready to battle for the woman he loves. There’s only one opponent in the mix that causes him any concern. In order to guarantee Raine’s safety, Bastian will be pitted against the key hit man for Chicago’s largest mob family – a guy who’s known as one hell of a shot.
A guy named Evan Arden.
Soft fingers caressed the back of my neck.
I couldn’t answer.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing,” I croaked. The word was utterly ridiculous.
Raine moved her fingers down to my chin and pushed my face to look at her. I did so reluctantly, and as soon as I met her eyes with mine, some of the tension faded, and I could breathe right again.
“Can you tell me about it?”
I shook my head, and Raine nodded in response. She moved one of her arms around my shoulder and the other around my head. She held me against her chest as I tried to regain some semblance of sanity.
Raine knew me so well, it frightened me. Whereas she used to press for more answers, she was now quick with yes-or-no questions I could answer without speaking, and she knew when to give me a little mental space. Eventually I’d tell her what the dream was about, and she knew that.
Still, even when I heard her reasons, sometimes it didn’t make the feeling of inadequacy go away. Maybe it was all from the lack of affection during my fucked up childhood, like Raine thought, or maybe it was because the one man who did offer me any kind of parental connection was also the man who taught me how to be a killer—a damn good one.
Maybe it was because I missed being a killer.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered to Raine as my throat and mouth went dry. “I want a drink so fucking bad.”
“I know, baby,” she replied, “but you’re stronger than that.”
I closed my eyes a moment and shook my head vigorously.
“Only on the outside.” I met her eyes again. “You have more strength inside than I do.”
She moved her fingers into my hair and brushed it away from my sweaty forehead.
“You have more than you know,” she said. “You work at it every day, and every day you get stronger on the inside too.”
Everything in my head wanted to deny it. I didn’t feel strong. I just felt like drinking or fucking.
“I wanna fuck you,” I said. I saw the little twinge in her eye at the phrase but couldn’t bring myself to regret it.
“Always so crass,” she muttered.
I fought with my head for a way to explain.
“When I’m inside you, everything changes,” I told her. “It’s not about getting my dick wet; it’s about being so close to you that I can feel your strength in me. When I feel your arms on my back, and you hold me against you, that’s when I feel strong.”
Shay Savage lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband, two children, and a variety of household pets. She is an accomplished public speaker, and holds the rank of Distinguished Toastmaster from Toastmasters International. When not writing, she enjoys science fiction movies, and loves soccer in any and all forms. During the fall, she coaches her daughter’s soccer team. Though she currently works in the technology field, her school background is in psychology, and she brings a lot of that knowledge into the characters within her stories.
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