Flirting wasn’t working.It was a stupid idea. Flirt with all the women but her. Show her I was attracted to them.Not her.Never Delilah.She made my blood fucking boil. Just sitting next to her was a slow torture, but an agony I endured for some unknown reason.Fuck. I should have told Jack “No.” Been more insistent about it.I needed a fucking drink. A strong one.Headlights in my rearview mirror caught my attention. Six miles they’d stayed close, and it could have been a coincidence, but maybe not. Four years of looking over my shoulder had honed my awareness of my surroundings. I’d become a paranoid motherfucker, but with good cause.Killing Grace and leaving me at death’s door wasn’t enough for Vincent Marconi—it was only the beginning. I was right where he wanted me; locked in a purgatory of my own making.My wife was dead. My son was dead. I was the living dead.A few blocks from my building, the car pulled into the right turn lane, and I caught a glimpse of a
Delilah’s impromptu confession did nothing to sway my curiosity. In fact, it flamed the fire of her draw.I just wanted to make it through the day, just one day, without thinking about her, but she was always fucking there, in my periphery. The smell of her perfume was a constant torture. If we weren’t office mates, working together and she was just some girl at the bar, I could fuck her, get her out of my system, and be done.Instead, I was left ready to explode like a ticking time bomb, just waiting to go off at any moment. Anger and frustration mounted, and the sight of her made me furious.I resented her, absolutely despised her for making me want her in the first place.I didn’t want the need that churned inside me. I didn’t want the crawling hunger to fuck her like she was the last fucking woman on the planet. I didn’t want to crave her with her pretty vacant eyes and her plump, perfect all.I didn’t want her.Liar!Shut up!Arguing about it with myself wasn’t hel
The moment I stepped through my door, I turned every lock and leaned against the heavy metal.Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.What the fuck did I just do?What we’ve been dying to do.I shook my head, then slammed it back against the door.My dick was still hard, wanting to go another round, ready to fill her again. It didn’t understand the gravity of what I’d just done, only the pleasure.It wasn’t like any other time over the past four years. No charisma to charm my way into her panties and leave her soon after. I was out of my mind, overcome with a powerful need.High strung, out of control, and the next thing I knew I had her pinned to the wall.I forced myself on her.What the fuck is wrong with me?We didn’t.Yes, I did.She wanted it, begged for it, creamed for it.“Stop!” I screamed out. My arm swung forward to punch the invisible version of myself and crashed through the wall instead.It took a moment for the shock to settle in, for me to see my fist stuck inside the
I spent all of Saturday staring at my front door, at the couple of holes I’d created. There was nothing but guilt that consumed me as I waited, expectant of some type of retribution. All week I’d waited, and I was somehow convinced the weekend would hold my punishment.The sun rose on one side of my condo and set on the other, and nothing happened. There was no banging on the door, no phone calls. Nothing.Silence.It did nothing to assuage my feelings. Even the beast was silent. Being the unpredictable, emotional, violent side of me, he had begun to feel remorse, too.Though even with the remorse was the itch. Soft at first, but as the day faded, it became almost unbearable. The notion that one time with her would be enough was obliterated the second I was inside her.I didn’t sleep that night. I’d barely slept all week. By nine in the morning I was showered, dressed for some ungodly known reason in my slacks, shirt, and tie, pacing my condo, probably driving my neighbors
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. They couldn’t.Twice. I’d fucked her twice.It’d been four years since I touched a woman more than one time, and my wife was the only one for a decade. That was how much Lila had unhinged me.I never slept with a woman more than once. There was no way I was going to let anyone in, and more than once would imply there was something more. Yet, I’d been inside Lila twice and my dick was hard, dying to be inside her again.My skin crawled, vibrated with the desire to taste her. To sink my teeth into her skin as my hips flexed my cock deep inside her.And it fucking pissed me off.I had to stay away. Never again.Things I said to her in the chaos, words that would have earned a slap, she reveled in. They weren’t definitions I associated with her, but I wanted her to be a whore for my cock. A slut willing to do anything to have me inside her. Me and nobody else.Mine.Every cell in me vibrated, more life coursing through me than there had been
Lila finished just before six, and instead of starting something new, opted for what was an early night compared to the rest. She didn’t say a word, still mulling in her anger from earlier, and just grabbed her coat and jacket and headed to the door. The moment she was out of sight, I saved my work, putting slips of paper with notes for where to pick up in the morning, and followed.I stalked her ass home, speeding in order to decrease the time it took for me to catch up to her. Seconds after getting out of her car, I pulled into the parking spot next to her.We had shit to talk about, namely what the fuck got into her at the office. She avoided my stare, tried to act like I wasn’t there, and that annoyed the fuck out of me.Once I was within ten feet of her, something in the air changed. We weren’t in the office, bound by rules and watchful eyes.We entered the elevator and pushed the buttons for our floors. She still refused to acknowledge me, even in the mirrored reflect
I stared up at the club where I’d spent many nights trolling for sex and picking up women. The neon of the signage lit up the parking lot.Why did I agree to this?Because what’s ours is in there, with other males.As she should be. Finding someone who isn’t fucked up beyond repair.The beast rattled at the bars, making me close my eyes and crane my neck, pulling at the tight muscles.“Nate, how’s it hanging, man?” Jerome, the bouncer, asked as I stepped up.We shook hands, and I smiled. “Good. How’s your wife doing?”“Aw, man.” He shook his head and circled his arms out in front of him. “About like this. She’s due in six weeks and more than ready for him to come out.”My smile faltered, but I picked it back up, forced it to reach my eyes. “That’s awesome! I didn’t know she was pregnant.”He smiled and shrugged. “Well, you ain’t been around to tell.”I nodded. “It’s been a busy time.”“Well, go on. Lots of hotties in there tonight. Go get you some.”I nodded and wav
Despite her grumbling, I had Lila up, out of the car, and over my shoulder. After the protests began, I ignored her. Though they seemed to stop when she noticed my ass.A growl rumbled through my chest in warning. The drive did not cool me down. In fact, I was unhinged, volatile. I felt a vibration down to my core.Off the elevator, into my condo, and pinned to the fucking wall as my lips crashed to hers.Fuck her.For making me feel things I shouldn’t.For the emotions that heaved inside of me.For the possession my body demanded.“Who is he, this Andrew?” I asked, panting as I dug my fingers into her hips.“Andrew is my ex-boyfriend.”From my calves to my neck, every muscle tensed.The fucker hadn’t just longed for her, he’d had her. She’d been his. It’d been his cock inside her before me. She looked at him with those lust-filled eyes, begged him for more, gave him everything.Fuck that.I barely heard her call my name in the background before I kissed her again.
Welcome to the Cameo HotelI get what I want.When I walked through the door of the Cameo Hotel I didn’t expect such a beauty to be working the front desk.The effect she has on me is intense, and I make her life a living hell because of it.I love her spirit, her internal defiance when completing the most inane task I assign her. My two week stay has turned into unending, just to be near her.She’s under my every command if she wants to keep me happy.There’s one last thing I want.Her.Find out more hereBecoming Mrs. LockwoodEvery girl has dreams of meeting Prince Charming, or at least I know I did.A fairy tale-like meeting of love at first site.Real life and fairy tales are very different.I’m just a small town Indiana girl that had a chance encounter with one of Hollywood’s golden boys. You may think you know where this story goes—not even close.Life is different. Marriage is hard. It’s even
K.I. Lynn is the USA Today Bestselling Author from The Bend Anthology and the Amazon Bestsellers, Breach and Becoming Mrs Lockwood. She spent her life in the arts, everything from music to painting and ceramics, then to writing. Characters have always run around in her head, acting out their stories, but it wasn’t until later in life she would put them to pen. It would turn out to be the one thing she was really passionate about.Since she began posting stories online, she’s garnered acclaim for her diverse stories and hard hitting writing style. Two stories and characters are never the same, her brain moving through different ideas faster than she can write them down as it also plots its quest for world domination…or cheese. Whichever is easier to obtain… Usually it’s cheese.WebsiteFacebookTwitterInstagramGet my Newsletter
Thank you to everyone that has read and loved Nathan and Lila’s story. So many times I’ve heard that you wanted Nathan’s point of view from Breach, but it wasn’t until now that story could be told. He was too raw in my mind and I honestly didn’t think he’d ever calm down enough to tell it, but he did. So for all of you that wanted more Nathan, this is for you. I hope it’s everything you ever hoped for. I love you all for following me on this journey and for taking a chance on me and my stories.Love,K.I. Lynn
It was bright, sunny, and I had to shade my eyes from the light. Something stirred at my side, and I looked down to find my Lila snuggled in. Her head tilted up; her intriguing gray-green eyes met mine briefly before snuggling back into my chest. My arm was around her shoulder, and I leaned my head down to breathe her in, kissing the top of her head. I let out a sigh and pulled her closer, reveling in her warmth.I looked around and found we were outside, lying in the middle of a park, people all around us. People all around, yet there we lay, relaxed and content. I felt something move on my chest and looked down to find Lila’s hand resting over my heart, a diamond glinting from her ring finger, a small band seated just beneath.I couldn’t pull her flush to me, so my gaze moved farther down and saw that her stomach was large and swollen. My hand reached out to rest on her belly. I felt a kick against my palm, and my heart swelled at the feeling of life beneath it. A life we h
I’d taken to drinking at night, which was not good for anything that got in my path. The alcohol reduced my inhibitions, and the beast was let out. All my anger and pain was unleashed upon my surroundings.I wondered if I was like a drug addict going through withdrawal. I had all the symptoms, my physical dependence on Lila showing its ugly self.My depression and anxiety spiked, and I craved her more than I ever had before. I needed her.My condo was a mess: the drywall still laid on the floor in the entryway, various pieces of furniture were knocked over, and the closet in the master bedroom was ransacked. Clothes, shoes, belts were strewn all over the floor. Casualties of my search for something, anything, that was hers.I emptied the hamper and found a shirt of mine she had thrown on one night and found it still smelled of her. I sighed, having enough of a fix to calm me somewhat.I was a mess, and it was my own fault. We could have been together. There were ways.But
Days passed, and Lila was still unresponsive, trapped in the recesses of her mind. For the second day in a row, I found myself leaving the office at five and rushing over to the hospital.Work was utter hell. I hated being away from her.Nothing changed in the ten hours since I’d last been there. I walked into the room with quiet steps up to the bed. She looked so peaceful, like an angel. The constant beeping of the machines, along with the low rise and fall of her chest, put to rest the creeping fear that she was gone. I clung to each breath and beat.She was still there, alive, and she would return.I hoped.My hand reached out to move a stray strand of hair from her face, but I stopped myself. It was one thing to see her, to smell her, and to feel her presence. It was another thing entirely to touch her.This is for the best, I reminded myself.I turned and walked back out to the hall. Once there, I leaned on the wall and stared at the room across the hall. A shiver r
The next morning my alarm went off, butI was already awake. My eyes were glued to the ceiling, staring blankly at the white expanse. In the time I was staring, I noticed the nail pops, small cracks in the plasterboard, and the all-consuming ache in my chest.I slept terribly; tossing and turning, fighting nightmares and periods of insomnia.As I lay there, I realized it was the first night in months that Lila wasn’t next to me in the bed. Her delectable cherry blossom scent and warmth filling the room. It’d been months since I’d awoken without her soft body curled into mine, our limbs entangled.Instead the bed was cold.No good morning kisses.No morning sex with my goddess.No sweet smiles from my Honeybear.No Lila.My Lila.An hour later, on autopilot,I was dressed and walking to my car. I noted hers was still in her parking spot a few down from mine. In the rearview mirror the dark circles around my bloodshot eyes made them stand out; evidence of my sl
My chest clenched, and I rubbed the spot with firm pressure. A familiar pain was flooding in, and once again it was all my fault.The doors to the elevator closed in front of me, the number twelve disappearing before my eyes, leaving me to stare at my own lifeless reflection. The weight of my decision hovered above me, poised for the right moment to crash down.I saw her long before I ever met her; Lila, my cohort in crime at work and at home. Across a sea of asphalt and cars was where I caught my first glimpse of the woman who would do the impossible and awaken a long dead part of me.She was unassuming, skittish even, captivating me with the way she walked. There was nothing particularly special about it; maybe it was just the way the light reflected in her natural blonde hair. Whatever it was, my eyes were glued to her. She became more intriguing when her demeanor changed as two men approached: her body rigid, pace slowed, and eyes down. It was subtle. Not many would noti
I wasn’t surprised the next morning when Andrew came up and wrapped his arms around me in a firm hug.“I’m sorry,” he whispered too low for Lila to hear.It wasn’t an, “I’m sorry I was such a douche,” but an, “I’m sorry for what you went through.”We pulled back, and I stared him in the eye and nodded. Andrew gave me a sad smile, then glanced to Lila.“I won’t say anything.”Lila didn’t understand, and her curiosity was getting the better of her. She knew more truth about what happened to me physically, but unlike Caroline and Drew, she didn’t know what I’d lost.There was no longer animosity between us, which confused Lila to no end. The fire had died, and he accepted that Lila was mine. A friendship formed, and it was the first one I’d had in years. I’d forgotten what it was like to talk to someone who didn’t walk on eggshells around me.I begged Lila to give me time, but I wasn’t sure there would ever be enough time to prepare me for that conversation.Scandal hit th