I’ve never stopped loving him…
For fifteen years, I believed Ryker abandoned me when I needed him most. One drunken decision leads to a confrontation where he wants to make me pay for leaving him behind. I’ll never admit being with him is exactly what I desire until the day I die.
She’s always been the one…
When Angel shows up on my doorstep, she's smashed and hiding more than one secret behind her gorgeous eyes. Blackmailing her into staying is a tactic aimed at making her realize she’s always belonged with me.
Neither of us are ready for the fight of our lives.
Genre: FICTION / Romance / ContemporaryMy longest novel at 436 pages. Has some BDSM elements.
This book will be featured in an international BOOKBUB deal on May 6th, 2019!
I’ve no idea where I am, but waking up in his bed had been a total shock. I’m still not sure I can wrap my head around it. Ryker. My first love. My only love. We met when I was thirteen. At fifteen, he’d been new to town, and instantly took an interest in me, his next-door neighbor. For a year, he tried to get me to talk to him. For a year, I resisted. Until one day, he found me by the creek running a bit down from our backyards, and sat beside me in silence. And waited. When I’d started to cry, he hadn’t even asked why. He didn’t question me. He’d simply taken me in his arms and hugged me. He isn’t holding me now, but his arms are loose around my upper body. I bring mine up and push on his chest. I’m glad when he accepts my silent demand to release me and drops his hold, because he has to quit touching me. I can’t handle it. I don’t deserve his kindness. He has no idea how much I warrant nothing but his disgust. Hopefully, I die before he finds out, since I’m sure I couldn’t handle his hatred. It would ruin the only happy memories I have, of which there aren’t many. I drag my eyes to meet his. I’m not sure what to make of him. He was right about one thing though — even in the fifteen intervening years, he hasn’t changed much. His hair is the same medium blond I remember, his eyes green-gold, and his muscular five-eleven height dwarfs my five-three frame. “Angel.” His beautiful mouth moves and instantly I’m pissed. “Stop calling me that. I’m not a fucking angel.” Narrowing his eyes, his lips twist. “No. You’ll always be my Angel. Get used to it.” “Not.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at him. “I’m not your anything. I’m not anybody’s anything.” Except their nightmare perhaps, that is.
