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It had always been her…
Ten years had passed since the doors slammed shut behind
Decker Calhoun, taking away his freedom, but more importantly, locking him away
from Elizabeth Waters, the only woman he’d ever loved—the woman he’d given up
everything for.
The day he was sentenced, he’d looked at her and said, No
regrets, Lizzie. But he lied, because he did have one. Although he’s been out
of jail for three years now, he was a year too late. Lizzie never knew how he
felt and just months before he was released, she found somebody else and it’s
too late.
Or maybe not. It seems that Lizzie’s boyfriend wants an open
relationship and two can play at that game. Now all Decker has to do is
convince Lizzie that he’s the better man…and has been all along.
♥ Excerpt
Snarling, he tore his mouth from hers and jerked away, sitting at the far end of the futon. With hands that shook, he rubbed at his face.
Son of a
bitch.
“Lizzie…fuck. I’m sorry.”
A harsh intake of breath reached his ears and the last thing
he wanted to do was face her, but that was what he made himself do.
The minute he turned his head to look at her, she surged up
off the futon, moving across the small office to stand by her desk, head bowed,
arms wrapped around herself. “Get out,” she said, her voice quiet.
Too quiet.
“Lizzie?” Wincing, he climbed off the couch. “Look,
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t.” The word was pure steel and it caught him
off-guard, for a second.
But just a second. Because while Lizzie was soft and sweet,
under all of that, she was steel. She always had been—he’d figured
that out when he hadn’t chased her off within the first few hours of meeting
her. Now, as she turned and looked at him, tears glinted in her wide, dark brown
eyes, but nothing could hide the fury, and the hurt, in those eyes.
Fuck, he thought miserably. Rising from the couch,
he lifted a hand only to let it fall uselessly to his side. “Lizzie, I’m sorry.
I didn’t—”
“I don’t want to hear it!” she shouted, cutting him off.
He had to duck to avoid the little potted orchid she sent
flying his way. And damn, she still had a good throwing arm.
“Do you hear me?” she said, her voice starting to shake. “I
don’t want to hear. I get it,
okay? Nobody wants me. No fucking body. I’m fine as a doormat for Noel
as long as I let him treat me like shit, but he doesn’t want me. Neither do you. I get
it. Okay?”
Stunned shock rippled through him as she shoved her tumbled
hair back from her flushed face. Her eyes shot sparks as their gazes clashed.
“I get the point. You’re a fucking hound dog and I know that. But I’m not good
en—”
He caught the rest of her words with his mouth and when she
went to shove him back, he caught her wrists, too. Sinking his teeth into her
lower lip, he backed her up against her desk. “Not want you?” he muttered
against her mouth. “Are you blind?”
She tried to turn her head and he tangled a hand in her
hair, yanked it back. Her pupils flared, her mouth falling open on a startled
moan. “Give me your mouth, Lizzie,” he said and then, without waiting, he took
it, thrusting his tongue deep.
She bit him and he responded by letting her wrists go and
catching her hips, boosting her up with one arm while he used the other to
swipe out against her desk, clearing it with one careless gesture. Lizzie
worked her hands between them and although he didn’t break away from her mouth,
part of him held his breath—waited.
When she reached up and tangled her hands in his hair, he
snarled in savage satisfaction.
Lying her down on her desk, he broke away. Her hands
clutched at him and he caught them, shifted her wrists to one hand and pushed
them up over her head. Then, as he held her gaze, he reached down and freed the
top button of the top she wore. With each successive button, he bared more and
more skin, pale, pretty skin, lush curves, her breasts cupped by silk and lace
and his brain almost exploded as he flicked a look from her face downward to
study those ripe curves.
“My hands are shaking,” he said, struggling to keep his
voice from doing the same as he trailed his fingers along the delicate lace
design of her bra, watching as a soft blush pinked her flesh and started to
climb upward. “I’ve dreamed about touching you a thousand times and now I am
and my hands are shaking…”
Now he looked at her, watched her throat work as she
swallowed.
“And you think I don’t want you.”
About Shiloh Walker:
Shiloh Walker is an award-winning writer…yes, really! She’s
also a mom, a wife, a reader and she pretends to be an amateur photographer.
She published her first book in 2003. Her newest series, Secrets and
Shadows, launched in April 2014. Look for the newest book
Deeper than Need, to be followed by Sweeter than
Sin and Darker than Desire.
She writes romantic suspense, contemporary and paranormal
romance, and urban fantasy under the name J.C. Daniels.
♥ Connect with Shiloh
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