Read Branded (Strand Brothers Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Lora Ann
Branded (Strand Brothers Series Book 1)
Branded
(Strand Brother Series, #1)
Lora Ann
Branded
(Strand Brothers Series, #1)
Lora Ann
Branded
Published by The Greatest of These, LLC
Florence, KY
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locals are entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved below, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2014 by Lora Ann
ISBN 13: 978-0-9888787-3-0
www.loraann.com
Cover design by Sprinkles On Top, Inc.
Photograph by Lora Ann
This book is dedicated in loving memory of my late grandmother, who taught me love is worth the fight.
Grandma G, even though you’ve been gone eleven years now, the lessons you taught me and your love for Jesus has never been forgotten. I will see you a
gain. I love you.
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance
Ecclesiastes 3: 1 & 4 (NIV)
Contents
Chapter Eighteen: Aimee and Caleb
Prologue
Aimee
What on earth was I thinking when I agreed to go to this charity masquerade ball? Some of the most wealthy and influential people would be in attendance.
Seriously! I need to have my head examined.
“Alright now, just breathe, you can do this,” I whispered to my reflection in the mirror. I turned myself every which direction to get a good look at the dress I was wearing. Renée had really outdone herself putting it together for me. When I placed the mask on for the full effect, I realized there was no way anyone would recognize me. Not that I ran in such circles; however, this was a staged event for me. An opportunity to see if I had what my—hopefully soon—employer was looking for. I stepped out of my room to get the final approval from my best friend, Renée.
“Girl, you’re going to knock their socks off.” She exclaimed, “You look amazing!”
On a long exhale, I released the breath I’d been holding. “Are you sure?”
“Hell yes, I’m sure.”
I ran my hand down the full skirt of my gown. It truly was a magnificent dress—emerald green in color with gold edging. I felt like I’d stepped back in time. The mask matched perfectly. While there was no question I was feeling beautiful, my nerves were frayed. “Ren?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure I can do this.”
She walked over to tuck a tendril of my hair behind my ear. “Hey. It’s only escorting. You’ve been clear that you want no part of the other
business
. Relax. They’re going to love you. You have the look men want—sexy yet innocent.”
I scoffed, “My hips are too wide, and my boobs are too large.”
“My point precisely. Men like something to hold on to.”
I smacked her arm. “Renée!” Then I reiterated, “I’m not going to prostitute myself.”
Her lips thinned. “So, I’m a whore?”
Oh, shit.
“No.” I inhaled deeply before I clarified, “That’s not what I meant. All I mean is that, that side of the business isn’t my cup of tea. You know I’d never judge you.”
Her entire body relaxed. “Sorry, Aims. I know you don’t.”
Truth be told, the lure of the money was quite intoxicating. And I would be a liar if I said I hadn’t thought about it. My only hang-up was married men. Strange, I know, call it my own sense of morals, but there were just some lines I refused to cross.
“Okay, now.” Renée explained, “You’ll meet Ann and Jack around eleven-ish. They’ll either give you the go ahead or turn you down.”
I still had a hard time grasping it was a brother and sister team that ran the escort service. But according to Renée, they were fair-minded and knew what men of such caliber required. So if I was turned away, it was nothing personal. Still, I really needed the money desperately. With my dad fighting cancer, there was not a dime left for me. And I had run up an astronomical amount of student loans. Bottom line, this was my best bet to pay them off quickly
and
help out my family. Renée brought me back to the here and now when she said, “Remember, midnight. You make sure you’re out of there.”
I couldn’t stifle the giggle. She raised an eyebrow at me. “Oh, come on.” I clarified, “Even you have to admit it is rather Cinderella sounding.”
She grinned, “Then, by all means, find yourself a very rich Prince Charming.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ha! Surrrrre. I’ll make that my top priority.”
My phone beeped with an incoming message. I read the screen and turned to her. “Car’s here.”
She kissed my cheek. “Go get ‘em, girl.”
I waggled my fingers on the way out. “Ta-ta.”
*****
I focused on breathing and tried to keep my heart rate under control. There was no point in showing up soaked with sweat while I panted like I’d just run a marathon. I gave myself a mental pep talk:
You can do this, Aimee. No worries. Everything’s going to work out fine.
If I could only believe it was true. I considered praying but then thought that wasn’t such a great idea. Yes, I was only applying for an escort position; however, I knew God was fully aware of just how tempting the offer was to take it a step further.
Right, nix on the praying.
When the door to the limo opened, I was pulled from my musing. I stepped out onto a red carpet. Luckily, I was no one of significance or with anyone important; hence, the focus was on others that arrived at the same time. Thank goodness.
I was gathered swiftly into the throng and rushed inside. While I took in my surroundings along with all the marvelous attire, a waiter passed by with a silver tray of champagne flutes. I grabbed one and took a sip. In a matter of moments, I was swept onto the dance floor where one gentleman after another danced with me. I eventually needed a break and excused myself to the nearest powder room.
Upon my return, I did my best to observe—all to no avail. A deep voice whispered in my ear. “May I have this dance?”
A chill of awareness instantly shot up and down my spine. I swallowed the lump in my throat and fought the urge to lean into whoever he was. “Yes,” I huskily replied.
What the hell is the matter with me?
Never have I had such a reaction to a man. He stepped around me. Once I was in his arms, we began to waltz around the dance floor. He was extremely tall, and his broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his tux deliciously. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip. He didn’t miss the motion. Due to the full mask he wore, I couldn’t get a good look at his face. But I could see his eyes, which were a brilliant light blue. They reminded me of a glacier: sharp, intense, and very observant. There really wasn’t anything else visible on him. I did notice his hair appeared to be blond, maybe a shade or so lighter than mine, and long enough that he could tie it back with a black leather thong. Everything about the man screamed danger, so, of course, I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Confidence radiated off of him in waves. I was immediately reminded of how you could tell a man made love by the way he danced. Although I was not delusional, this man would not make love. No.
He
would fuck. The thought made me wet. All of a sudden, I became aware of several things at once: He inexorably danced me into the shadows while Michael Bublé sang, “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.” The actual performer was there live, and, honestly, I couldn’t imagine a better song for how I felt at that moment.
The next thing I knew, he had pulled me through a door I never noticed before.
I looked up at him and inquired, “Where are you taking me?”
His lips curved up slightly as he replied, “Somewhere quiet.”
Oh, my word. I had let a complete stranger drag me away from everyone and everything. And damn, if the idea didn’t excite me more. You would think I’d be a bit more concerned about my safety. For all I knew, this guy was an axe murderer. Yet, for some reason, I completely trusted him. I knew he would never hurt me physically. Although I was quite sure, the man had left more than one broken heart in his wake.
We slipped into a small library/office. The room was dimly lit; thus, I reached over to turn on a lamp sitting on a side table.
“Don’t,” he murmured.
I really wanted to know how his voice truly sounded. So far, the few words he had spoken were all whispered; therefore, I couldn’t hear it clearly. I did catch a slight rasp with a hint of some kind of accent but nothing discernable. Gah! The man became more frustrating by the moment. I heard the door lock, and then he was in front of me. He caressed up and down my sides, nibbling along my neck. I leaned to the side to give him better access, all the while I made little mewling noises.
He suckled the tender spot just below my earlobe. “Tell me to stop if I’ve misread the attraction between us,” he demanded.
No way in hell I was doing that. The electricity was arcing between our bodies with a mind of its own. Instead, I begged for more. “Please.”
I felt his smile along my throat. “Right answer,” he groaned. Meanwhile, I began to explore his body. I managed to push the jacket off his shoulders, as he tugged the bodice of my gown over my breasts. With his teeth, he worked the lace of my bra out of the way and then laved my nipple. The man had a wicked tongue and knew just how to use it. He gently scraped the sensitive peak with his teeth, causing me to moan. “So responsive,” he purred. I reached up to draw the mask from his face when he stilled my hands. “No,” he commanded. “Let’s leave them on.”
I growled out of frustration. In response, he decided to lavish attention on my other nipple. I was beyond hot and bothered. I
wanted
this man deep inside me. “More,” I demanded.
With that, he eased me onto the sofa. He reached under my dress and traced his fingers under my panties. “You’re ready for me.” His finger dipped inside my core.
“Yes.” Was the only coherent thing I managed to say.
Another finger joined the party while his thumb began to draw slow, exquisite circles around my tight nub. I was going to come if he kept that up for much longer. All of a sudden he stopped, and I actually whined. “Patience, little one,” he instructed. I bit my lip in an attempt to hold back my protest. As his fingers continued to explore my body, he leaned back on his heels. “I can’t decide where to taste you first. Should it be here?” He ran the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip, and I could taste my essence. “Or should I kiss these lips?” His finger teased my cleft before he traced up to circle the bundle of nerves at the top.
Oh, fucking, my!
I arched my hips. “I agree,” he confirmed, and then his mouth was there at my center—licking, sucking, and nipping. While I rode his face, I tugged his head tighter into me. The man knew his way around a woman’s body. And, let’s be honest here, there was nothing hotter than a man who enjoyed going down on a woman. My orgasm hit ferociously. Before I could come down off the first one, his fingers were inside me coaxing the second.