Dedication

To the readers.

Thank you for loving the Voyeur world as much as I do.

Foreword

Goner was originally published in the limited print charity anthology, Twelve Naughty Days. While it is the same story, this version includes more than five-thousand added words and a different beginning with more visits from your favorite couples from the Voyeur world.

I hope you enjoy!

1. Atlas

Chapter 1

Atlas

“I’m glad you were able to finally make it,” Ian said.

“You’ve praised this city so much. How could I not visit you in Cincinnati?”

He extended a glass across the kitchen island, and I gratefully accepted, already anticipating the warm amber liquid on my tongue.

“It’s no New York, but I find that to be a plus.”

“We’ll see,” I challenged. “I’ll have to do some exploring during my stay.”

“I’m sure Abby or Brianna would be happy to show you around. Or maybe both,” he suggested.

I scoffed over his bouncing brows and smirked. “I’m good. I don’t fuck where I eat, and two associates of Carina’s is too close.”

“Carina will be devastated. Ever since she met you in London, she’s determined to find you a woman.”

Another scoff. “I’m quite content with an ever-changing variety.”

“You say that, but it’s only because you don’t know.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I brushed him off, already having heard him gush about how he used to be a playboy until Carina came along. “So, tell me about this charity event at the sex club.”

“It’s not a sex club, and don’t let Daniel hear you call it one. He gets touchy. Also, we should keep that on the down-low tonight around Abby and Bri. They’re not members, so we have to respect the NDA.”

“But if they want to donate a hefty sum of money to our charity, they can join the conversation at any time,” a deep voice said behind me.

“Erik,” I greeted. “It’s good to see you.”

He shook my hand before accepting his own drink from Ian. I’d met them both when they opened an office in London. We ran in the same circles and eventually formed a friendship. After Ian and Carina had their twins, I decided to make the trek to his part of the woods. And lately, somehow, two of the most fascinating cities bored me. All of it blurring into one mundane day after the other—one similar woman after another.

All I need is a little break—a little change of scenery, I thought.

“You, too. You remember my wife, Alexandra.”

“Nice to meet you,” the petite, raven-haired woman greeted before addressing her husband. “I’m going to let you men do your guy thing and go find Carina.”

With a kiss that bordered inappropriate, she left.

“I knew we’d be able to entice you here with the promise of a night at Voyeur,” Erik said.

“And for a good cause. How could I not support a charity that helps victims of sex trafficking?”

“Exactly,” agreed Ian.

“Add in the promise of live porn and sex, and I’m all over it.”

“No promise of sex,” warned Erik.

“Oh, trust me, I’m sure I’ll be able to find a lucky lady to fuck.”

“Well, then. Sorry to interrupt.” The soft words stroked up my neck with a bite of annoyance. It coiled around my muscles, urging me to turn to find out if the woman was as enticing as her voice.

Dark brown eyes greeted me first, tempting me to fall headfirst into the rest of her.

Full lips above a slender neck that tugged my gaze to the shadowy curves peeking from between the deep vee of her cream sweater. Visions and ideas flashed in my mind like they hadn’t in months.

What did she taste like? What colors did her lips turn when they stretched tight around a cock? How hard would I have to spank her to turn her warm, honey skin red? The words clamored on my tongue for freedom. They almost escaped but were halted by the clearing of a throat.

Prying my eyes away from the length of her body, they crested the sharp line of her jaw, back to the brown depths. Somehow, despite not having a single feature wrinkled or clenched, annoyance oozed from her pores. Disdainful judgment hung from her neutral lips. With just a flare behind her eyes, she burned me with her dislike.

She probably wanted me to shrink back and fumble over my words to repair whatever image she had of me.

Except…I didn’t care.

In fact…I liked it.

I liked the thought of all that cold, rich-bitch attitude writhing wildly underneath me. The colder her stare, the more I craved it.

Abby and the other girl had barely sparked an interest, while this woman practically set me on fire with five words and an impressive, haughty glare.

Wanting to see how far I could push her, I tipped my lips to a taunting smile. “No need to apologize. I’d be happy to have you join our conversation.”

“No.”

Not no, thank you. Not a rejection with a polite smile. Not a soft dismissal with an excuse to join later. Nothing that you would expect in a social situation. Just a simple, blunt, cold no.

My cock twitched behind my pants.

Fuck, this woman called to me.

“Excuse me,” she said blandly. Making sure to not allow even a single brush of our clothing, she curved her body away from mine as she reached beyond me to grab a wine glass and bottle from the counter, leaving just as quick as she came.

“Who the fuck is that?” I muttered.

“Amara,” Ian answered. “Carina met her at a business conference a couple years ago, and they’d made fast friends.”

“Dear, God. I think he’s drooling,” Erik teased.

“Who the fuck wouldn’t be?” I responded unashamed.

“See, this is how it starts,” Ian explained. “Next thing you know, you’ll be in love.”

A bark of laughter broke free. “Yeah, fucking right. All I want is to bend her over and fuck that sass right out of her. So, the next thing I know, she’ll be begging for more.”

Both men snorted and shook their heads, meeting each other’s gaze with some unspoken conversation that looked heavily tinged with doubt. Did they know something I didn’t? Maybe. But I also knew that I could be one determined motherfucker when I wanted something.

And I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted a woman like I wanted Amara.

AMARA

The day had been shit. Hell, the whole week had been shit, and walking into the kitchen to hear the arrogant shit being said was the cherry on top.

No.

The real cherry on top was the way my nipples pulled into tight, painful buds of need when the man spewing so much arrogance turned and looked me up and down like a fucking dessert he was deciding if he wanted or not.

Hard. Fucking. Pass. Sir.

At least, that’s what my morals said. Everything else almost begged to be the lucky lady he fucked. All that masculinity lording over me? Yes, please. Especially when his lips barely tipped, and sheer arrogance flared behind his eyes—a hint of blue in the dark depths. That kind of confidence came from a man who took pride in making a woman crumble under the pleasure he dished out

But…looks were deceiving, and I was in no mood to find out. All I needed was to give in and then discover his roguish smirk was a cover for being a minuteman. I’d rather not fuck at all than have the hope of an orgasm, only for it to be taken away. Besides, a cold shoulder of rejection could do a man with that much confidence good.

“You found the wine,” Carina cheered.

“I always do.” I smiled and sat in the empty chair. “You didn’t have to get this for me. I can always bring my own.”

“I know, but it’s your favorite, and I know your week has been shit. It also meant you got here sooner for dinner. More time to chat.”

“Here, here,” Alexandra cheered with a raised glass.

I filled my wine more than halfway before joining the clinking cups in camaraderie.

“By the way, this is Brianna and Abby. They work at the office.”

I greeted the two women on either side of Carina. “Does that man also work at the office with you?”

“I wish,” the redhead, Brianna, gushed. “He’d be the perfect eye candy to make a day at work a dream.”

“And that soft British undertone?” Abby joined in. “Staff meeting attendance would be at an all-time high if he led them.”

All the women giggled, and I forced myself to join in. Usually, I loved gossiping about delicious men, but something bitter twisted in my chest at the thought of this woman throwing herself at him.

Internally rolling my eyes, I took a long swallow of my wine.

Jesus. This week must have been taking more of a toll on me than I thought if I’m having tinges of possession over a man I’ve said less than ten words to.

Get your shit together, Amara.

“Are you seeing anyone?” I asked.

“No,” they both answered.

“Well, then you should go after him. He’d be lucky to have a chance with either of you.”

“Or both of us,” Abby muttered, leaning into Carina.

The women laughed, and I think I may have heard a molar crack.

My inner voice couldn’t even find words to help me. Instead, all I heard was internal screaming.

All I could do was put this moment of insanity down to an utter lack of sleep, stupid men with inflated egos, and other people’s mistakes causing me to lose client opportunities and bonuses. Not that I cared about the bonus—I had plenty. I just liked winning. I liked the rush of success, and I hated, loathed, despised failure—whether it was my fault or not.

What a stupid fucking week.

The two women stood up, pulling me from my inner turmoil. “Bathroom break,” Brianna explained while Abby held up her ringing phone.

“So, how are you and Ian?” Alexandra asked once the women left.

“Fantastic,” Carina answered with a dreamy sigh. “Sleep deprived and worn the fuck out, but happy.”

“Babies will do that to you,” I said. “Where are they, by the way? Audrey promised me a new hairstyle the last time I saw her.” I laughed, remembering the stern little girl studying my hair with her own brown ringlets in her eyes. She’d explained how she would work me up with a wave of her hand but that she didn’t have time then, and I’d have to come back.

She may look like Ian, but that girl was all Carina.

“With the in-laws. They’re giving us a night to sleep.”

“Ohhh. Sleep…” Alexandra hinted.

“No, seriously. Just sleep,” Carina said, laughing. “Besides, we’re attending the charity event this weekend at Voyeur.”

“I can’t wait,” I groaned. “Alex, you going?”

“I’m not sure. It depends on if Hanna is going. Erik isn’t going to take any chance of running into his sister at Voyeur.”

We paused, imagining the fiasco, before falling into laughter.

“That’s a bummer, though. It’s supposed to be amazing. More taboo. More promiscuous.”

“How do you get more taboo than live porn?” Alex asked.

“Usually, the performances are behind closed doors, and any extra activity among members is held subtly or in the shadows. For that night, it’s whatever, wherever.”

“Oh, yeah,” Alex breathed.

“And the theme is Twelve Naughty Days of Christmas, so we get to dress up in slutty costumes,” Carina explained.

“I can’t wait,” I said. “I’ve had a French maid outfit I’ve been dying to wear. It will be perfect for three French hens.”

“So, you’re going?” Alex asked.

“Yeah. I volunteered to work that night.”

“Why do you work there again? Your day job pays you more than enough,” Carina said.

“Yeah, but it’s not as exciting or fun. Or sexy. And I get to do sexy things without the complication of a relationship. The real question is, why wouldn’t I want to work there part-time?”

“That’s a fair question—Oh.” Alex jumped with wide eyes before digging into her back pocket for her phone. “I should take this.”

She followed the same path as Abby and left me alone with Carina.

“Are you excited about the event?” I asked. “Anything special planned?”

“Actually…” she started.

“What? You can’t leave me hanging.”

“We don’t really have anything planned, per se. We were just talking about it, and one thing led to another. We got swept up into the idea and started talking about possibilities.”

“Ohhh,” I hummed. “Do tell.”

“I mean…” Carina blushed, and I scooted to the edge of the seat, needing to know now. “I don’t know. It’s just—I don’t know.”

“Don’t you dare back down now.”

“Ugh. Fine.” She huffed and rolled her eyes but kept going. “I don’t know. It’s just that Ian and I are both so possessive of each other, we said we would never share, but there’s something alluring about it. But when push comes to shove, we know that neither of us would be able to handle watching another man or woman touch the other.”

“Ian does go all caveman,” I agreed.

“And I would claw a girl’s eyes out if they even dared.”

“But…?”

“But we were talking, which is about all we can do with the kids sapping all our energy,” she deadpanned. “And we started creating this fantasy of him watching a…a woman touch me.”

“Oh.” The word slipped free, carrying my excitement and encouragement to tell me more.

“I don’t know.” She waved the thought away with a giggle. “The best part was when he very, very hesitantly asked me if I wanted to see a man touch him. The fear in his eyes…” She broke off into a fit of laughter, and I could only imagine.

“The man would do anything for you. He was probably scared to even offer.”

“Exactly, but I’ve been there and done that. No, thank you. Man or woman doesn’t matter. Ian is mine and only mine.”

“So, what about you? Did he like the idea of a woman touching you?”

“Yeah, but it was just the heat of the moment,” she dismissed.

“You know, you could always talk to Daniel and see if he could set up a special scene for you two?”

She paused, a small smile creeping along her lips. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Babe,” Ian called from the kitchen. “The oven is beeping.”

Carina rolled her eyes. “Is there a fantasy at Voyeur that he can turn off the timer and pull the food out of the oven?”

“I mean…Daniel should at least try and create one. Women would be lining up.”

We both laughed and headed to the kitchen toward the group of men.

Toward Mr. Arrogant and Sexy.

And conceited, I reminded myself. Focus on the most likely inflated ego.

I hung on the edge of the kitchen, sipping my wine, wanting to observe instead of putting myself to the test under the fire of his gaze. But luck wasn’t on my side because as soon as Carina interrupted their man-talk, he turned, zeroing in on me.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, but I ignored them, offering the same cold stare from earlier. In return, he offered the same smirk.

On cue, my nipples pebbled. Traitors.

Thank goodness for spilling coffee on my blouse this morning, forcing me to wear a thick enough sweater to hide my arousal.

He’d taken one step, his intent to prowl closer to his prey, when Brianna came back, intercepting his attack. His gaze bounced between me and her. His struggle to be polite but continue on his path was cute. So cute that I couldn’t help but allow a barely there smile to curl my lips. Allowing a slight raise of my brow in victory before turning away to claim my seat at the dinner table.

He had a woman for the night practically begging for him to fuck her. Leaving me free to enjoy my meal in peace.

Or so I thought.

2. Amara

Chapter 2

Amara

“Is this seat taken?”

I looked up, up, up past the sharp line of his clean-shaven jaw and into the shadowy blue depths of his eyes. Shocks of energy zipped down my spine to my core, and I struggled to remain aloof.

“Unfortunately, not.”

“Good,” he responded joyfully. As if I begged him to sit beside me, he pulled the chair out and made himself comfortable. “We didn’t get to properly meet earlier. I’m—”

I whipped around, giving him my full attention. “I really don’t care who you are. I don’t plan on being some lucky woman for you to fuck, so let’s not waste time.”

Most men shriveled at that point. Or snapped at the blatant rejection.

But this man? He smiled. Actually, fucking smiled.

“No names it is. Although, I do know yours, but I’m okay with keeping mine to myself.”

“Good.”

Despite the arctic blast I kept sending his way, he continued to chat amiably next to me. The more he talked, the more I understood that this wasn’t about the sex. This was about winning something you couldn’t have. Not about getting laid for the night. If that was all he wanted, he could have either Abby or Brianna. They’d vied for his attention since we sat down.

If I wasn’t so determined to beat him at his own game, I’d take a moment to congratulate him on his ability to deflect the women’s obvious attention while still fighting so valiantly for mine.

No, this man wanted me for the simple fact that I refused to fall at his feet. I was a challenge. Sadly for him, after the week I’d had, I was more determined than him to win this challenge.

More like sadly for us.

He oozed sex appeal, and my body responded as if he had been made just for me. No matter how many times I jerked my hand back after each accidental graze or diverted my attention to anyone else at the table, my pulse hummed with want. My senses attuned to the deep resonance of his voice. My core softened and tightened as if preparing for this man.

By the time the plates cleared, my nerves fired on high alert, making me both exhausted and energized.

It was…exhausting.

And exhilarating.

And I needed to go.

I needed sleep and a clear head. This week had worn me down, and every time this man ran his fingers through his dark hair, pushing the strands back off his forehead, I failed to resist the urge to take in his thick bicep straining against his shirt.

“Can I get you a drink?” Carina asked.

“Thank you, but I think I’m going to head out,” I said, offering an apologetic smile to the table.

“You sure?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s been a long week, and my bed is calling my name.”

She offered a commiserating grimace before standing. I said my goodbyes, pointedly ignoring Mr. Dark, Handsome, and Arrogant beside me. I had just turned to head to the door when his soft murmur reached my ears.

“Scaredy cat.”

The insult was barely a whisper issued only for me. I should have ignored it—pretended I hadn’t even heard it.

But I couldn’t.

Turning back just enough to face him, I softened my cold shoulder, switching it out for a seductive heat I knew melted more than a few people. His gaze morphed from taunting to an inferno in seconds. If my look melted, then his ignited. Before he could read anything on my face, I simply raised a brow, letting the ice slide back in place.

“Goodbye.”

And then I left.

I’d just headed down the sidewalk to my car when I heard a door open and close.

Deep inhale.

Clenched jaw.

Eyes forward.

I would not stop. I would not look back.

I knew who it was without having to look. Instead, I kept my pace even and steady—the strike of my heels on the pavement never changing. Of course, it was only a matter of time until he caught up to me, with his long legs eating up twice as much space as mine. I’d arrived late and had to park further down, where the streetlamps grew further apart.

I’d just made it to my car when he finally broke the silence.

“Are you running?” The deep timber crept through the dark night and stroked up my spine like a promise.

It annoyed me.

It turned me on.

It annoyed me how much it turned me on.

I whipped around, barely able to make out his face in the shadows. “Are you following me so you can take advantage of a woman alone in the dark? Hmm? Are you going to force yourself on me?”

His laugh rumbled in his chest.

I should have been scared. I was alone at night on a quiet street with a man who could easily overpower me. We stood in a large gap without lights, making it hard for anyone to see. All he had to do was pin me to my car, slip his hand over my mouth and take me. No one would know.

With each of his slow steps closer, my heart thundered harder.

I should have been scared…but I wasn’t.

Once he stood less than two feet away, I could see the lascivious smirk on his lips, and still, my body hummed.

“Something tells me that you’d like me forcing myself on you. Maybe you’d even find it fun.”

My pussy clenched at the quick flashes in my mind. I would like it. But I couldn’t tell him that. Lifting my chin higher, I did my best haughty stare. “There’s nothing fun about ignoring a woman’s consent.”

“Unless she gives consent for you to ignore her consent. Right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Another deep laugh that sounded more like the warning growl of an animal about to pounce on its prey. “You don’t like me very much.”

“No. I don’t.”

His head tipped. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve been let down by enough egocentric men this week, and I don’t need to add another one to the list just so he can prove something to himself.”

“C’mon, Amara,” he crooned, taking another step. “Why don’t you let me help you relieve some of the stress coiling your muscles so tight.”

Yes, fucking please.

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