Always overlooked. Always just there. That's what Dillon was to me.
Until one night.
In one night she flipped my world on its axis and there's no going back. But she has secrets, and secrets fester like an open wound. They color the past and forecast the future, but I'm determined to open her up; free her from her memories so she can live in the light and have the life she deserves.
It's just too bad that she wants nothing to do with me. But I'm nothing if not persistent and I'm not a man that gives up without a fight. I've had a taste and there's no walking away.
I just have to convince her that I'm not what she fears, I'm what she wants.
Slade, like Wild and Ridge, is a standalone.
Reading Wild and Ridge first will provide some back story, but is not required to read Slade.
Fair.” I nodded, afraid of the next words to come out of her mouth.
“Well, I’m not sure I’m into that. It looks pretty fucking terrifying.”
“It’s all about trust. I’ll never take you farther than you want to go.”
She huffed and averted her hardened gaze. “I have issues with that.”
“No shit.” I mumbled. Her eyes cut to mine. “I read you like a book, Dillon. You think I didn’t realize that you have trust issues when you can't even look me in the eye when I’m inside you?” I ran a lock of her champagne hair between my callused fingers.
She scrunched her nose and looked out to white-capped waves crashing against grey stone.
“I want to earn your trust.” I took a step closer.
“Who says I want you to? I never asked you to. We were just messing around, Slade. If you hadn’t noticed, I mess around with a lot of people.”
Red flames licked my vision. My fists clenched at my sides and every muscle in my body went rigid. “You still fucking around with other people?”
“If I was?”
“Fuck, Dillon. I haven’t been with anyone since we started–”
“Started what? Started fucking? I’m just the town slut. Down for a fun time, nothing more. Surprised one of your buddies didn't warn you not to get involved with me.”
“Oh, they did.” I grumbled, thinking back on Wild's warning not to get wrapped up in Dillon. Too little, too late. That ship had sailed.
She arched full eyebrows at me, gnawed her lips between her teeth until they turned winter white while anger flared in her indignant eyes. “Don’t fucking come back to my house, Slade. Don’t fucking do it. From the beginning you've acted like you have some sort of macho bullshit claim on me, why is that?” She nailed me with her pointer finger.
“Because you’re mine.”
Adriane Leigh was born and raised in a snowbank in Michigan's Upper Peninsula and now lives amongst the sand dunes of the Lake Michigan lakeshore.
She graduated with a Literature degree but never particularly enjoyed reading Shakespeare or Chaucer.
Adriane is married to a tall, dark and handsome guy, plays mama to two sweet baby girls, and is a voracious reader and knitter.