Publication date: October 13th, 2020
Synopsis:
I'm a novice about to take my vows. He's the embodiment of sin--and the new owner of the convent that's been my home for the past two years.
I shouldn't want him. Yet from the moment he walks into Mother Superior's office and threatens to turn Saint Clare into a luxury hotel, all I can think about are those lush lips, tight muscles, and perfect hair. That, and the devil's bargain he proposes.
My body in exchange for the convent. For fourteen days, I'm to be with him at Lust, his exclusive sex club. Fourteen days obeying his every command.
Whatever I do, I can't let myself fall in love with him. Because Kegan Anderson is a beast, and a beast can never love.
He can only destroy.
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Excerpt
"Lie down on the bed."
I obeyed, propping myself up on my elbows to watch him. Kegan had opened a drawer on the other side of the room. His body was illuminated by the morning light. As he rummaged through the drawer, I listened to the contents clinking together and frowned. I could only imagine what was in there, as I couldn't see a thing. I had no idea what he was planning and it worried me.
I focused my attention elsewhere. The room had red walls that matched the sheets I was stretched out on. The room was a physical representation of lust itself. I caressed the silk, as soft as Kegan's hair glistening gold in the sunlight, as smooth as his lips haunting my dreams.
Room 424. Hell. We were surrounded by red. The color of passion, of blood, of physical pain that I hoped he wouldn't inflict on me. An alarm went off in my mind at the thought of whips, ropes and other toys that I had no interest in trying. Even the short dress I was wearing was red, matching the furnishings and the name of the room. I couldn't help but wonder what I'd been thinking when I had picked out the only red dress from my wardrobe. Maybe God himself had suggested it, just like he'd suggested this room to Kegan. Maybe it was His way of telling me where I'd be headed when I died: Rose Davis, straight to Hell to pay for her sins. Mother Superior would have undoubtedly interrupted it all as a divine message. I took in a deep breath to try to calm my nerves. It was useless.
"What are you going to do to me?" I asked, my voice betraying my panic.
But Kegan just ignored me as he bit his lip and pulled something out from the drawer.
"Oh yeah, these are perfect." His voice was deep and satisfied. "Lie down, Rose," he repeated, shooting me a mysterious glance.
Whatever he had taken from the drawer was now carefully hidden out of my sight.
"Stretch out your arms and grab onto the bars."
"Why?"
"Just do it."
I reluctantly obeyed.
Kegan turned toward me and the rest of the room disappeared, along with my fears. Everything was replaced by him, the effect he had over me, and the way he looked at me. His eyes were so intense that he made me feel like the most interesting person he had ever seen. I was the only object of his attention. My heart started beating like a jackhammer, demolishing my resistance. Kegan didn't move a muscle as his green eyes burned holes through me. He was nicotine, a vice that I couldn't free myself from. He could have stood there next to the window forever, analyzing every inch of my body, and I would have allowed it until my dying day. I was no longer human, I was a robot--his robot--and I would never grow tired of it.
The bubble I'd been hiding in from the past few days had just popped. I was falling back to Earth, back to reality. I couldn't hide it anymore, not even to myself; every day that passed, every time that our bodies came together, I became more and more emotionally involved. And this was bad news because Kegan didn't care about me or my feelings. But being aware of that and repeating it to myself every day was of little use. He was cold, perfectly safe from the emotions that I couldn't help but feel. I tried to sweep everything under the rug and carry on, but it was hopeless. Hate, love, attraction, fear, repulsion for who he was and what he did, and so many other things ran through my veins and mixed with my blood. I was infected.
He raised an eyebrow. His hair was messy, a sign that he had run his hands through it several times before our encounter. He was wearing a black tee and gray track pants. I could have ripped it all off in seconds. His hands were behind his back, carefully hiding the mystery item from the drawer. I concentrated my attention on his tightly sealed lips. I was desperate to see them move, to hear words come from them, to feel them against my own. I knew that the last part was out of the question, but the idea of it still drove me mad.
"I'm going to handcuff you."
Ava Lohan loves to write sexy, romantic stories. When she is not busy putting her characters in compromising situations, Ava reads about bad boys, goes out, and indulges in wild shopping sprees and marathons of movies and TV shows. Above all, though, she creates sizzling new book boyfriends for her upcoming novels.
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