Theirs to Play (21 page)

What type of female gets captivated with a homemade cake? Maybe this one will poison her. Perhaps, Freddy is drugging this stuff with some sort of pill that will make her pass out. Is he hoping to kidnap her?

Today I sat next to my window, waiting for Freddy to come again.

Maybe Mr. Betty Crocker will bake her a fucking pie this time. He says I have a problem, but never considered this maddening addiction with her.

I took a swig of my vodka and let the harsh liquid burn away at my throat. “I’m the only sane one in this game. The rest are mindless losers.”

A knock came to my door.

“What the fuck?” I wiped my mouth and set the bottle down. “It better not be the neighbors complaining about the noise again. It’s just a few breaking of bottles not the fucking crash of fireworks.”

I opened my door. A black envelope sat there.

“I guess I’m not the only one that will be getting deliveries today.” I picked the thick package up and rushed back into my place. For now, neither Dawn or Freddy knew I lived in her shitty apartment complex. I was hoping to keep it that way until my brother got bored with her.

“To Maximillion Knoll” was written in gold letters on the front.

I tore it open. The paper ripped with ease. Huge stacks of money fell out and dropped to the floor, along with a gold card.

“Did Freddy give me this?” I bent over and grabbed the card, opening it as fast as I could.

Dear Maximillion,

I think we both know your brother is making a mistake by courting Dawn. Are you willing to save him from this craziness as much as me? If you are, please meet me tomorrow at Café Iguana in Cocoanut Grove around two in the afternoon.

I’m a concerned friend and to show you my well wishes I included a nice gift of money. I hope to see you there.

Dawn’s concerned friend.

Caden

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Theirs to Crave
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Theirs to Crave
(Billionaire Games #2)
Teaser

~Dawn

Caden is here.

A blues song flowed in my ears. The male singer belted out sad lines about a broken heart.

I yanked out my earphones and scanned the swimwear store. It was only me. The whole place must’ve emptied out the moment I put my back to the entrance. Now that I turned around, the fact that something was wrong hit me right in my chest.

There’s no one here. Only Caden would clear a packed spot to talk to me.

My insides coiled into anxious, bulky knots that weighed me down with each step through vacant clothing racks. Hangers dangled back and forth as if someone had just been there and rushed away, disturbing everything in his or her trail.

“Hello?” Part of me knew I wasted my breath.

No one replied.

The place was deserted. The mother and two teenage daughters from earlier no longer battled by the dressing area. They’d been arguing about skimpy tops and if the girls were too young to wear them out in public. I checked my right. Gone were the perky blondes boasting bra cup sizes that could never be natural. They’d been shrieking with airhead giggles as they showed off their picks. When I walked in here, I could barely move around the bikini section without getting my feet stepped on.

It was the Thursday right before July fourth weekend on South Beach. Women had packed the store, searching desperately for the perfect swimwear to show off each day. If my neighbor Sienna was right, we’d be going to a beach party every night. It was why I strolled the store, debating whether I would stick with my conservative one piece choices or go wild and rummage around the two piece sections.

But then an eerie sensation poured down over me, riling my senses out of my enclosed solo world of music. I’d been deep inside of myself. Plugging in those headphones was like entering a portal to another world.

But a tingling skittered across the back of my neck, a creepy quiver as equal to the feel of a spider crawling inch by inch across my skin. I spun around and the first thing I realized was that the cashiers had gone. I had no idea when. At one moment this beautiful Cuban clerk drowning in silky brown hair picked up discarded outfits off the floor near me. In the next instance, no one stood in the place but me.

Even the store music had been turned off. Now my footsteps echoed as I marched to the front.

Maybe it isn’t him. Fuck. I had my headphones in my ear. What if they yelled fire or something? Shit.

My fingers shook. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Just in case, I dug in my pocket book for my mace and phone. Worst case possibility, I’d spray my way out, if I needed to and dial 9-1-1.

I got to the door.

Lots of women stood outside, holding hangered outfits on their arms. A few glanced at their watches and shook their heads. Others wore annoyed expressions. The store clerk leaned on the door with her hand on her hip. Three tall guys in gray suits flanked her sides as if making sure she wouldn’t go back in.

I peered closer at the guys and swallowed.

Yep. Caden is here. That has to be his security.

With no surprise, I pushed at the door. It wouldn’t budge. I was locked in, which meant that was right where Caden wanted me.

Breathe. Just Breathe.

Movement sounded behind me. If I hadn’t been so scared out of my mind and on edge, I would’ve never heard it.

But I did.

There was no need to turn around. I sighed and closed my eyes. “What do you want, Caden?”

“You already know the answer to that question.” His deep voice sounded behind me.

My body was a contradiction of emotions—my nipples stiffened as my flesh shivered with dread. Lust swirled around fear. Sensual heat surrounded the cold blast of the fucked up situation that I now had to deal with. This was the nature of Caden and me—turmoil and passion, exquisite pleasure and throat-ripping pain.

I cleared my throat. “Why are you here?”

He traced my bare arm with his finger, which delivered needle shots of warmth to my center. “Your break from me is over.”

“It wasn’t a break. If I remember clearly I told you to eat shit and die, then I kneed you in your groin.”

“Tomato. Tomahto.”

www.KenyaWright.com

Check out a sample of another

New Adult Contemporary Erotic Romance by Kenya Wright

Prologue

“
Sometimes it’s okay
to kill, if you’re saving someone else in the process, Rainbow.” Dad wiped my tears from my face with bloody hands. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Do it for Daddy. Pull the trigger.”

And I did.

Chapter 1

Eve and the Apple

Five years later.

I
’d been washing
blood off of my hands for five years. It was time to stop swimming through guilt and make a go at being normal.

Tonight I would lose my virginity to my best friend, Jude. He didn’t know and it didn’t matter. He was tan muscle wrapped around a sex fiend with blue eyes that made the Caribbean ocean jealous in spring. Even worse, he knew it. Once I’d joked that more women walked into his bedroom and spread their legs than at a women’s health center. He’d winked and proudly agreed.

Jude will say yes. Stop worrying.

The difficulty rested on me, and whether I could lock my heart and emotions into a steel cage where nothing could slip in or seep out while we shared the most significant moment of my life.

I can. No big deal, right?

Once summer was over, I would return to art school. He would go into the studio and produce his first album. Our lives would return back to normal, and neither one of us would regret tonight. Our friendship would remain intact.

“Don’t over-think this.” I crossed my fingers on both hands for added luck.

My driver, Thompson, drove the town car along the path between lush hedges manicured in the shape of musical notes and stopped the vehicle in front of Jude’s and his dad’s gray stoned mansion. I did a quick check in my compact mirror and realized my blue contacts still covered my eyes. “Shit.”

Jude hated the contacts as much as me. Mom didn’t demand I wear them. If I chose not to, then she would simply nag me about how much better I would’ve looked with the blue contacts on and how she wished I would take her suggestions. She claimed to like my actual hazel eyes but believed blue contacts complimented my caramel complexion, which seemed to be the only thing about me that pleased her. Her skin was dark like chocolate, but I believed she didn’t see the beauty in her skin like me. Regardless, I did whatever she said, since she paid the bills. I wore the blue contacts and straightened my naturally curly hair whenever I dealt with her. Hence, why those horrid blue things covered my eyes now. I’d just finished having a quick lunch with Mom before seeing her off to the airport.

“One must maintain their appearance at all times, darling.” Mom had tossed her blond weave over her shoulders and blown me an air kiss like we were best friends versus the reality—lackey and master, overbearing mom and subservient daughter. “Stay to yourself these six weeks while I’m gone. Phones and cameras are everywhere, recording and judging. We don’t need any extra attention.”

Thompson turned off the car, got out, and headed to my door. I sighed as those blue contacts sparkled back at me in the mirror. “Well, I can’t take them out now.”

My hands weren’t clean enough to start messing around with my eyes. Plus, I didn’t have my contact case or solution.

Thompson opened the door. Tossing my mirror into my purse, I took his hand and climbed out. If I didn’t get this moment over with, I was going to explode into a frenzy of anxious bursts. My nerves flared on edge as I picked up the gift bag. A print of colorful apples covered it.

I hope Jude laughs when he sees the apples.

“Let me get that bag for you, Miss Rain.” Thompson reached for it.

“I’m fine.” I held up my hands to stop him. “Thanks, Thompson. By the way, take the night off. Mom’s out of town. She won’t find out about you getting some free time to yourself. You definitely deserve it.”

Thompson flinched at the mention of Mom. “Miss Rain, I do not like this game. It’s unhealthy for your mind. You should stop pretending that your mother is still alive.”

“It’s fine. Just play along with me. The mind is the creator of everything around me, so if I choose—”

“I won’t be a part of this.”

I tapped my foot on the ground in annoyance. “Okay. I’m sorry. I won’t play the mom game with you anymore.”

“Thank you. And, I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone this weekend. Are you sure?” He glanced at the mansion’s front door. The song lyrics to “After the Storm” were engraved into the white wood and painted in black. “I’d feel more comfortable with being the one to drive you and Mr. Jude around.”

“Thank you for the offer, but that won’t be necessary. I’m a big girl, Thompson.” I formed my lips into a wide smile. “Please. If something happens, and trust me it won’t, but if it does, I’ll make sure to call you immediately.”

He rubbed his bald head and dropped his shoulders in defeat. “Please call me if you need me, and check in every day.”

“Of course.”

“What day and time should I pick you up?”

“There’s no need. Like I said before, Jude will take me home later. We’re hanging out the whole weekend so I don’t need you to come by Saturday or Sunday. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Well then” —He did another quick glance at the house — “since I won’t see you on Sunday, happy birthday, Miss Rain.”

“Thanks so much. And you have a good night.”

“I’ll keep my phone next to me just in case your plans change.” He dragged himself back to the front of the town car.

“Bye.” I headed to the mansion’s entrance. Worry pulsed in my veins, but I did my best to ignore it.

Hi, Jude. Yes. I know I’m here early, but there’s something important I want to talk about. Remember when we joked last year on my birthday about you taking away my v-card if I was still with it at twenty? Ha ha. Yes. That was so funny, but do you remember your promise?

I wobbled in my heels as I approached his door and almost dropped the small gift bag. My hands shook. My teeth clattered against themselves as my heart boomed at a staccato pace. Dampness appeared under my arms and probably soaked into the red, sleeveless dress I wore.

I should have put on the black dress. Why did I wear red?

I stunk of peach lotion and rose perfume. I’d lathered so much lotion on my light brown legs that they shined and gave off a glossy look. Next, I’d spilled a whole bottle of perfume in my lap.

Sweat, peaches, and roses. Jude will vomit before I even get to ask him.

I combed my fingers through my curls. I usually straightened them with a flat iron until they were a long mass of brown and blond streaked strands that hung past my waist. But, Jude loved my hair natural. I didn’t care what my mother thought since Jude loved it this way. He said it added to my exotic look, made me look Brazilian or a mixture of many different races, instead of the look that helped me fit in. Being half Jamaican and white guaranteed I didn’t fit in with African Americans at my college or identify with any of the Caucasian preppy kids from my high school years. I was an anomaly to all except Jude who took me for what I was and never expected anything more or less.