Twisted Desire (The Twisted Series)
TWISTED DESIRE
Christa Simpson
The Twisted Series
Book #4
BLACK WIDOW
Publishing
TWISTED DESIRE
By Christa Simpson
Copyright 2014 Christa Simpson
All rights reserved.
Kindle Edition
ISBN 978-0-9919070-6-9
Author: Christa Simpson
http://christasimpson.com
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Black Widow Publishing: July 2014
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
TAINTED LOVE
EXCERPT FROM TWISTED
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would like to thank Tanya Vought who, out of the goodness of her heart, has spent countless days and nights lending an ear, a hand and a leg. She is one of a kind. I’m lucky to have her as a friend.
To my street team, Christa Simpson’s Twisted Sisters; with a special thanks going out to Shana Vernon, Shari Sulser and Dawn Vickers, for their readership and support.
Thanks to Author Sara V. Zook for showing me how to put myself out there and for being a loyal, like-minded friend.
And to each and every blogger who has shared my books, revealed my covers and reviewed my work. I thank you all and anyone I might have missed for everything you’ve done for me.
Christa Simpson <3 <3
CHAPTER ONE
David H. Gates answers his phone and kicks a booted foot onto his desk. He doesn’t care that there’s a new client sitting in the seat across from him. She’s come to him because he is the best. There is a reason why his face is the one plastered across the town, on the city buses, on every public bench. He has a good advertising plan. But he also has a good reputation. It isn’t based on his appearance or on how tidy he keeps his desk. It is because of his impeccable track record.
If you need the dirt on someone, he is the one to get it. Skip tracing, private security, law enforcement. He does it all. Because he can. One might call him a private investigator, but that hardly does his activities justice.
It’s true, he doesn’t mind getting in a scuffle from time to time, but he thrives on the thrill of the hunt. The police aren’t exactly his best friend. He prefers to ride above the law. But even they can’t deny that he comes in handy when shit goes down and their hands are tied.
Nobody ties his hands.
After taking his feet down from his desk, he hangs up the phone and picks up a pen. “What did you say your name was again?”
The woman had barged into his office, without a warning. The look on his assistant’s face, when the woman took the vacant seat across from him, told him that she was going to be a handful. He had waved Jillian off and let the woman keep her seat. He was used to the handfuls. They were usually his best clients.
“Brandee. Brandee Hawkins.” She sticks her hand out for a shake, but he ignores it. “I hear you’re the best Rose Arbour has to offer.”
He smiles. He can’t help it. It is true. “And you need me because…”
“I think my boyfriend is cheating on me. I know he is.”
“If you know he is, then problem solved. Kick him to the curb. I’d be happy to supervise. For a small fee, of course.”
Her voice turns snappy. “I’m not looking for a babysitter.”
“Then what exactly are you looking for, Ms. Hawkins? Please tell me. Because so far you’ve done an amazing job of beating around the bush and wasting my valuable time.”
The woman huffs, and he holds his satisfaction inside, sticking with the serious raised brow. He watches her bite her tongue, the way they always do when he’s their last resort. “I need your help.”
“Do tell.”
He doesn’t notice how Brandee Hawkins is a natural beauty. Her hair is a little limp, her voice a lot rude, and she’s more than a little too blonde for his liking. Maybe, if she wasn’t constantly frowning, he might have actually checked her out while passing her on the street.
She fidgets under his scrutiny. “My boyfriend runs a little bar downtown. Maybe you’ve heard of it.”
“If it’s in this City, then yes, I’ve heard of it. Please get to the point.”
“He owns Riley’s Pub. Mitchell Cavanagh is his name.”
David nods his head. “I know Cavanagh.”
“Oh.” She looks surprised.
Is it really that shocking that he knows a business owner who runs a local hotspot not too far down the road from his own small establishment? He makes it his business to know his surroundings and the players in them.
“You were saying?” He wishes she would just spit out the words that practically every woman who comes to see him asks when she is dating a successful businessman.
“I need you to look into him for me. Follow him around. Document his every move when he’s not with me. If he is screwing around with this girl, like I know he is, then I need proof. I want the facts. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He finally nods his head, when he thinks she’s done her spiel. “I can get you the evidence you need. But I must ask, before you go spending a boatload of money on this. Have you called him out on it, Ms. Hawkins? That seems to me to be the first step here.”
By the expression on her face, you would think he ran over her grandmother’s dog. “No!”
Brandee Hawkins is a very dramatic woman. Her voice rises to a shrill pitch. “I never!”
“I see.”
When she fumbles for a few more seconds, he decides it’s time for him to take over the conversation.
“If it’s proof you’re looking for, Ms. Hawkins, then David H. Gates is your man.”
“That’s you?”
“That’s me. Now, why don’t you get out your cheque book and we’ll talk about just how much evidence you would like me to dig up.”
The woman writes a number before he even considers proposing one. He glances at the cheque as she hands it over. His eyes open wider, to make sure he’s read it correctly.
She gives him a pointed stare. “I want it all. Tell me everything you can about this, Aliah Bro
oklin, who is tagging onto my man. There’s fifty percent up front. I’ll give you the other half when you deliver me the goods.”
David smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You mean business.”
“You’re damn right I do.”
“I think we have ourselves a deal, Ms. Hawkins.” They shake hands and she stands up. “Jillian, my assistant, will have you sign a few papers before you go.”
She makes to leave the room, but he stops her.
“Oh, and Ms. Hawkins?”
“Yes?”
He gives her his most alluring masculine smile. “Have a nice day.”
She looks flustered as she leaves the room. He chuckles to himself, as he kicks his boots back onto his desk. He thinks for a few moments, while listening in on the women’s conversation at the front desk. He’s curious to know how Jillian knows his new client. He hears how there’s no need for introduction and they call each other by first name.
The second Brandee Hawkins leaves the reception desk, he finds himself drifting there to get the particulars. He hands Jillian the fat cheque.
“Can you get this in the bank, please?”
“Sure can. Here are the file opening forms for the Hawkins case. Sounds interesting. And this girl, Aliah, sounds like a real piece of work.”
“You don’t know her?” He sees the way Jillian acts like she’s thinking about it and refuses to make eye contact with him. He catches the unusual twitch in her eye. She definitely knows her.
“Nope. I don’t think so.”
He lets it go, making a mental note to test her again later. Jillian has been a loyal assistant to him for many years. She has always been forthcoming with information on the locals, where possible. So, why won’t she just admit that she knows Miss Aliah Brooklin?
His lips remain unsmiling, his eyes unaffected by her deceit. He was good at hiding emotions from his face. Then again, you would have to have emotions in order for them to outwardly show. As for him, he’s convinced he has none. “I don’t know why Hawkins doesn’t just confront the girl or call the cheating bastard out on it.”
Jillian smiles and the worry hiding behind her eyes seems to flutter away, like her blackened eyelashes. “You shouldn’t care too much,” she says, waving a hand flamboyantly. “Her lack of eagerness to do a little digging on Cavanagh just made you a small fortune.”
He turns on a charming smile. “That’s only half of it.”
“Really? So, what are you going to do to earn it?”
He taps the papers on her desk, ready to take his leave. “I’m going to get started right now. And tonight, I’ll pay this Aliah Brooklin a visit.”
“Isn’t that a little forward? I doubt she’ll tell you anything when she realizes who you are.”
“I’ll be discreet. Have you ever known me to gloat about who I am?”
Jillian smiles gingerly. “Yes. All the time.”
“Not tonight.” His real smile makes an appearance and slants a little to the left. “Tonight, I’m just Harley.”
“Who’s Harley?”
“How long have you been working for me?” he teases. “That H in the middle of your pay check. What do you think that stands for?”
Jillian’s smiling again, disbelief still marring her attractive features. She tucks a strand of long blonde hair behind her ear. “Your name is Harley?”
“My middle name. My mother used to call me that before my father died, so she wouldn’t get us confused.”
Jillian nods her head slowly, with a smile so large it seems to stretch across her face, almost unpleasantly. “Well, in that case, have fun tonight, Harley.” Her voice turns as seductive as her muted beauty. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
He turns for the door and gives her a friendly wink over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
CHAPTER TWO
Aliah Brooklin has never moaned in one sitting more than she has today. “Oh, yeah. That’s the spot… right there.”
It feels that good.
“Yes! That feels so good.” She feels like the stress of her life comes rolling off her body in waves. “Don’t stop.” Her voice is low and throaty and borderline breathless.
The man’s fingers continue to dig into her skin, massaging away the tension from her muscles.
“Oh, Michael. You’re the man.”
Aliah rolls up to a sitting position. Michael is in no way alarmed by Aliah’s forwardness. She’s completely nude, except for the white towel tossed across her lap to cover the bare minimum, which she’s only wearing to appease him. Otherwise she’d be happy to tell him where he can stick the rules of his high class establishment.
She’s not at all concerned about flaunting her body around Michael when she visits him for her weekly massage. He claims that he likes the gentlemen. Funny, he keeps sneaking a peek at her chest whenever he thinks she’s not looking. She smiles anyway, not much caring in this moment. He is good at what he does and worth every pretty penny.
Who needs a man when you have Michael?
“Thanks, Michael. You’re amazeballs. Same time next week?”
He delivers her a friendly smile; the same one that sometimes makes her wish he was a little less gay. “I’m glad you liked it. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to do next week. Vacation.” And the way he says it tells her that he is flagrantly taking it up the ass. “I’ll be back in a couple of weeks.”
“Aww. What am I supposed to do without you?”
“Honey, go find yourself a man. There are plenty of them out there that would be happy to get their hands on you.”
Aliah sticks out a pouty lip, not much liking that idea. “I’ll see you in a few weeks then, I guess. Because I’m not letting them put their dirty paws on me.”
Nope. Aliah Brooklin is not going to find some random dude to help her through her down time. She’ll have to suffer. She will have to find other, more productive, things to do with her time.
She quickly redresses and heads home to ready herself for a night on the town. Ever since her best girlfriend Abigail got married and had a baby, their nights out were becoming few and far between. She is really looking forward to tonight. It has been months since their last night out without a kid attached at Abigail’s hip.
Abigail is still her best girlfriend. She is her only girlfriend, actually. Aliah isn’t one to hang out with the ladies. Men are easier to be around. They tend to cut the crap and skip the drama, and she is plenty dramatic for the whole lot of them.
Aliah pulls up to Abigail’s house in her yellow BMW and wails on the horn. When no one makes an appearance in the door, Aliah tries again, beeping her car’s horn twice. She then holds it down for three long seconds.
Still nothing.
She turns off her car and heads for the front door of Abigail’s restored Victorian, soothed by the steady click of her ridiculously tall shoes. Aliah shouldn’t be surprised that her friend isn’t ready yet. It’s a rare occurrence that she be ready on time. But still, Aliah likes to harass her.
Aliah lets herself in the house and quickly realizes that her friend has company.
Shocking!
The young girl sitting on the sofa bears a striking resemblance to someone she knows. Very familiar indeed.
Can’t be.
Distracting her from that obvious dilemma, a wet and wiggly little girl comes pattering toward her, flashing her naked bottom for anyone to see.
“Maya!” Aliah cheers, even though everyone knows she’s not particularly fond of kids.
Maya doesn’t know any different and takes a running leap into Aliah’s arms, soaking her bar clothes. Aliah moans, but quickly replaces her annoyance with a smile. Knowing what little-Maya likes, she throws her up into the air, to hear her giggle.
Edwin and Abigail Santora have made the most beautiful baby girl and she is a sweetheart. There is just something special about this little one.
Aliah quickly lowers the kid to the floor and sweeps her hands over her wet shirt
, acting like she isn’t completely horrified. Then she looks over to her friend, who appears down the hallway with a beautiful baby bump encompassing her middle.
“Woman!” Aliah shouts. “Why aren’t you ready yet? You can’t go out looking all sweet and romantic when I look like this!” She points toward her own excessive cleavage and lifts a five inch stiletto from the floor.
Abigail sweeps the hair from her face with a sudsy, wet hand, and then dries it on the towel hanging over her shoulder. “Ally, don’t you remember? I told you I couldn’t do it tonight. I promised Aubrey I would meet with her and the wedding planner to go over the details of her wedding.” She dries Maya on the spot and lifts her into her arms while she talks.
“I’m sorry, Ally. But you’re on your own tonight. That is, of course, unless you would like to join us.” Abigail’s smile is sarcastic at best.
“Looking this good? That’d be a waste.”
Abigail knows damn well that Aliah despises weddings more than anything else in this world. She despises love and all of that other girly crap that goes along with a lifetime of happiness too. She hasn’t always been this single sighted. But ever since Hunter Wight crushed her heart into a blender and hit the pulse button repeatedly, she has vowed never to love again.
It was an easy task, really. She will never let a man get that close again. And if he dares try, she will cut off his balls and pin them to the wall as a reminder for any future takers. No man is willing to risk his balls to win that fight. It’s a losing battle.
Saving her from another futile discussion about getting back out there, Aliah welcomes the company, as another woman rings the doorbell. Aliah opens the door and waves a dramatic hand.
“Come on in.”
Aliah doesn’t recognize her at first, but as soon as the girl opens her mouth, Aliah is quickly reminded that it’s none other than that big-mouthed bitch, Ashley Clarke.