Please welcome my guest blogger Lacee Hightower with Reaching For Emeralds
Blurb:
I sat helplessly as he ruled the courtroom.
Watched hopelessly as he sent my father to prison and
ultimately his death.
Ironically, I happen to also know all about our local
District Attorney and his kinky needs.
Know all his preferences … tall, dark hair, light eyes,
lover of sadomasochism, uninterested in a permanent relationship.
Four out of the five describe me perfectly.
So, if I can manage to get him to purchase me at Venture’s
next auction, the rest will be a piece of cake.
I’ll turn on my best southern charm.
I’ll be in his bed by the end of the day.
In his heart by the end of the week.
And once I have Jackson’s Shipman’s cold heart in hand …
I’ll crush it.
Excerpt:
“How
many lies are you hiding behind those green eyes, princess?”
“Lies? Hiding?” My stomach twisted as the anger in his eyes
grew.
“You were a virgin. A fucking
inexperienced virgin. Oh, and let’s
not forget a cunning, first-rate liar,” he said forcefully. Certain this was
the beginning to the end, Jackson settled into a reclining chair across from
the sectional, kicking the corner of a second chair, sending it flying into the
side table. For seconds, we both watched the medium-sized, silken flower
arrangement teeter back and forth.
“Moment of truth, Layla,” he said, his jaw straining. “Tell
me … how did you know?”
“Know? I’m not sure what you’re asking, Jackson.”
“Keep the lying horseshit for someone else, Layla. Explain
how you discovered that I was a member of Venture. And I caution you … be very
careful with your words.”
I swallowed the rising apprehension in my throat, looking
him exactly where I didn’t want—in the eye. This game I’d foolishly thought I
could pull off against a man like Jackson had turned into a dark ugly cloud
between us.
“Word gets around. I know people.”
His stabbing glare lingered. “You know people? What kind of
people may I ask, do you know? Liars? Imposters?” His eyes narrowed as I glanced at the ground.
“Exactly when did you decide to try and set me up, and are you in this with
someone else?” I could feel his
resentment deep in my bones. “You were a virgin.
And I’m a goddamn fool falling for your beauty the way I did. Fainting on stage
should have been a sure indication you weren’t who you said you were. Fuck,” he
blurted out. “Was it the money?” His hands tangled through his hair as he
bolted out a short, disheartened laugh. “Should I even be surprised if it was?”
He stared down at me, an unreadable look in his eyes.
Are you worried I may
blow your cover Mr. kinky DA?
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “It wasn’t the money, Jackson. It
was you. I just … wanted you. The only set-up was pretending to be involved in
the same lifestyle.” Dishonesty was one thing I knew Jackson hated. And yet, I
couldn’t stop lying. I’d made a hard, conscious decision to go through with
this and now I was in so deep, I had no idea what to say or what to do. “I
thought if I entered the auction, you might choose me. I was familiar, and I
hadn’t forgotten the way you looked at me during the trial. I wanted to get to
know you, Jackson. I still do. More now than ever.”
“Bullshit! You can do better than that! Try again, Layla.”
“It’s true, Jackson,” I whispered, quite certain he was far
from falling for such a weak story.
“You wanted me? The
man who sent your father to prison? You wanted your first time to be raw, hard
fucking? Don’t you think you deserved better? Christ, do you take me for a
complete idiot? Do you think I missed the hatred in your eyes in that
courtroom?” He quieted, the silence great enough to hear a pin drop.
“What if I hadn’t chosen you? What if one of the two men who
were at a bidding war for what they assumed was a three-bar submissive, had
been the winner? Did you ever give that any thought, princess? Would you have
been up to that? Caning? A nice tight clamp against your clit? Quite possibly
having your butt plugged? I assume you’re smart enough to realize what that leads up to. Would you have been
willing, Layla?” My hands were shaking. He was right. Those very things being
what led me to having a panic attack right on stage, I didn’t know what I would
have done.
“I’m sorry, Jackson,” I reiterated. “What I did was beyond
stupid and immoral. But I want you, even if means doing all those things. You
must feel something or you wouldn’t have purchased me.”
“Fucking hell, Layla.” Both hands gripped the nape of his
neck. My last comment brought on a thickness in the air and I immediately
wished I hadn’t said it.
“Did I hurt you?” His eyes softened, his question sensitive
and empathetic as a bittersweet warmth stabbed at me
“I’m fine, Jackson,” I answered, wanting more of everything
he’d done to my body, yet wishing I wanted nothing.
“No man’s been inside you… No fingers? No tongue?”
“No,” I whispered. “I’ve done … things. I just never felt
the closeness to have sex.” His jaw tweaked. Not entirely convinced he really
cared if he hurt me, chances were, he was probably more concerned about his
wounded ego.
“Could I ask you a
question now?”
“I
suppose,” he uttered under his breath.
My
hands twisted at my sides and I lowered my legs, leaning across the table just
close enough to catch a small hint of Jackson’s damp sweaty body. “You’re a
sadist. Why would you care if you hurt me? Isn’t that what you do?”
Buy Links:
Other
Standalone Books in the Series:
Pink Lilies –
books2read.com/u/mYgN1P
Crimson Sunsets –
books2read.com/u/brozVZ
About
The Author:
Lacee
Hightower is an American writer and romance novelist, referring to her style as
contemporary, sweet romance with a “twist.” Living in the Dallas/Fort Worth
Metroplex, she describes herself as a foodie that can’t cook, a large lover of
fashion and SHOES, and an enormous hopeless romantic. Since she was old enough to know what the
word meant, she loved the whole concept of romance and happy endings. Even
though she has always enjoyed writing, life got in the way and she never really
thought of pursuing it seriously until she decided to write her first book
after both her children were grown in 2017.
Now with a nice glass of wine in hand, or not, she is learning to love
bringing the characters in her head to life on paper for those who enjoy
peeking into another world.
Social Media Links:
Facebook.com/Lacee-Hightower-Author-495594097304430
Twitter.com/LaceeHightower
Instagram
laceehightower8786
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