RECKLESSATTRACTION

  Reckless Attraction

  A Den of Sin Novella

  By Ambrielle Kirk

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  THE DEN OF SIN SERIES

  RECKLESS ATTRACTION SUMMARY

  PROLOGUE

  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

  EPILOGUE

  OTHER BOOKS BY AMBRIELLE KIRK

  EXCERPT FROM TAKEN BY TEMPTATION

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  BEFORE YOU GO…

  COPYRIGHT

  THE DEN OF SIN SERIES

  The Den of Sin is a multi-author shared world series. That is to say although each story is unique and the author voices are different, the rules are the same, so the fictional Hotel Beaudelaire is always familiar.

  Each story stands alone, though there may be some character overlap and recurring themes. The stories need not be read in order, but they may reference past events and previous guests of the Hotel Beaudelaire. To learn which stories are connected, please visit the Den of Sin website at http://www.denofsinseries.com, click on a story title in the menu, and scroll down to the section titled “Related.”

  Story List

  Season I – New Year’s Eve Party

  Forbidden Rendezvous by Mel Blue

  Ménage à Troys by Holley Trent

  Redeeming the Amazon by L. V. Lewis

  Wicked Surrender by Ambrielle Kirk

  Shamelessly Taken by Mel Blue (free short story)

  Two Strikes by Holley Trent (free short story)

  * * *

  Season II – The Beaudelaire Bacchanal

  Debauching the Virgin by Mel Blue

  Illicit Passions by Ambrielle Kirk

  O for Two by Holley Trent

  * * *

  Valentines Day (Special)

  As Sweet by Holley Trent (free short story)

  * * *

  Season III – Winterball Masquerade

  Melt Into Me by Renee Luke

  Reckless Attraction by Ambrielle Kirk

  Three Strikes by Holley Trent

  Unbidden Desires by Melissa Blue

  Winterball by Holley Trent

  RECKLESS ATTRACTION SUMMARY

  My estranged husband, Rich, is a habitual cheater. He says he has a problem with commitment because he’s messed up in the head. I’ve called him on it more than once. No one likes a liar, no matter how handsome he is. He says he wants me to have casual sex with another man to even the score. I don’t need his free pass. I can do bad by myself. I already have…I spend my days working at the diner and my nights in an adult chat room with a sexy stranger, keeping my body at a distance and my heart safe.

  Rich’s biggest mistake didn’t occur when he stepped out on me. His undoing was inviting Trevor Stanley into our bed. Trevor is cocky, arrogant, and holds nothing back, but when he looks at me, I’m drawn to him like light is to dark. Pending my divorce, Trevor seems to think I’m fair game and leaves more than his sex-laced advances on the table. He’s way too tempting and doesn’t seem to think it matters that my soon-to-be ex-husband is his boss.

  My no-strings-attached opportunity comes when I receive an anonymous invite to the Hotel Beaudelaire’s exclusive Den of Sin Winterball. But every sin has a price…

  PROLOGUE

  Camille

  This wasn’t the first time I had ventured onto the dating website, Anya’s Maven Online. Logging on under my fake alias had become my little secret pleasure. Each time I visited in the past, there was a different man trying to pimp himself out to me. Some of the messages were vague and relatively polite, suggesting some time talking online and then eventually a date, while other messages were downright direct and sexually motivated. I’d discovered the website by accident after finding my husband’s laptop open and bookmarked on the site one night. I found several incriminating instant messages between him and another woman about their sexual encounter, which banished my initial thoughts—one of which was that he was only a little curious. Curious was a vast understatement.

  That had been six months ago. Following that discovery, it had taken me some time to gather as much evidence as possible to confirm my suspicions about Rich.

  I swallowed the bile in my throat when I thought back to it now. There had been so many women. I wasn’t able to keep track of them. Not just one, but many. Frequent encounters, day after day. Even when I confronted Rich, he could barely tell me the names of any of the women he’d met. I had married a man who had a sex addiction that could not be subdued. One woman wasn’t enough for him. Instead of confiding in me about his problem, he kept it a secret and destroyed our marriage of only one year.

  After nailing Rich and nearly catching him in an adulterous act, all the documents were presented to my attorney, who agreed that it would be enough evidence for the courts to immediately dissolve the marriage. I had been in love with Rich once. In love with the notion of a happily ever after, of the perfect marriage and perfect family. Not anymore. I still loved him, but not for the same reasons I did when we recited our wedding vows. I didn’t want counseling, as suggested by him and his money-hungry attorney. I had no interest in helping Rich with his frivolous addiction. He would never stop, and I understood that now. I wasn’t the woman for him…perhaps he was even still looking.

  But something unexpected happened while I was tracking Rich’s alias on Anya’s Maven using my own fake one. I met someone. Well…not in the flesh anyway. This man and I had decided against meeting in person since my divorce was in the process of being dissolved and all.

  By no means had I created this account at Anya’s Maven six months ago to do something dirty of my own, but that was before TEMPTED909 sent me a private message. A message that spiraled into an online affair. I liked to call it an affair even though my marriage was virtually over. My heart was broken into a million pieces when I found out about Rich’s betrayal, and what better way was there to get back at him by pretending he didn’t exist and that he was not the only man in my life?

  The stranger and I chatted and played online a lot via direct messaging. Every day that passed, our conversations would get a little more intimate, until finally all I could think about was sexting during all of my free time. And suddenly, I didn’t care about what Rich thought. This wasn’t about making him jealous or to get back at him. He was barely in the picture anymore.

  To this day, recalling the first few messages between me and TEMPTED909 still sends shivers up and down my spine.

  TEMPTED909: I’m very curious. What’s the meaning behind your name and profile picture?

  At the time, the question gave me pause. Why would a stranger ask about my choice of name and profile picture? While in a rush to get the scoop on Rich, I’d put up a picture of some pearl necklaces. I’d made an immediate decision that I would never post the real one on a website, whether it was private or not. Providing my real name was certainly out of the question given the circumstances under which I’d created the profile in the first place.

  Even TEMPTED909 had a fake picture. It was a lion’s insignia in white on a black background. I checked his profile before answering him, of course, even though my fingers were poised to give an immediate response.

  Confident. Self-sufficient. Those were things that stuck out from his profile. Fun-loving. Daring. Looking for a good time and some reckless adventure.

  <3PEARLS: I love seeing the co
ntrasting color of pearls on my skin

  TEMPTED909: Where on your skin?

  <3PEARLS: There aren’t that many places to wear them

  TEMPTED909: Well, that depends

  <3PEARLS: On what?

  TEMPTED909: On who’s placing them on your body

  Thereafter, whenever I logged on for the purpose of tracking Rich’s one-night stands, TEMPTED909 would have a private message waiting for me. Our tag game didn’t end after I’d uncovered all the evidence that I needed. Now I specifically logged onto the site in anticipation of TEMPTED909’s questions.

  The last time we’d exchanged messages, he’d asked to meet me, but not just for sex. He said he was tired of waiting on the final divorce papers to wine, dine, date, and treat me like a real man should. Almost his exact words.

  My answer was no.

  I’d experienced the whole nine yards before with Rich. Dating, falling in love, and marriage. All of that had led me to a dead-end. I had learned my lesson.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Camille

  I checked my messages around the same time each day. Right before lunch and right before bedtime. Saturdays were my day off, but I was covering a shift for a friend at the diner. Still, I needed to get my sexting fix before pulling an all-nighter at work, especially after letting a couple days pass after TEMPTED909’s request to meet in person. I thought that maybe somehow he would forget that he’d asked me or maybe stop asking altogether. Deep down inside, I knew he wouldn’t let the idea of a physical meeting rest. After all, the website was a means for people to find each other online and eventually meet for discreet sexual encounters.

  TEMPTED909’s message was waiting for me when I logged on. The green light flashing next to his name indicated that he was online at the moment.

  TEMPTED909: I thought about your pearls this morning while in the shower

  <3PEARLS: Getting a little anxious, aren’t we?

  TEMPTED909: You’re a tease. By the way, when was the last time you played with your pussy?

  I bit at my bottom lip at the same time a heated blush crept up my thighs. It was hard to keep my fingers off myself in bed at night, especially while reminiscing about some of our exchanges. I squeezed my legs together as I stood next to the center kitchen island and typed my response.

  <3PEARLS: Last night

  TEMPTED909: How many fingers?

  <3PEARLS: two

  TEMPTED909: Did you taste yourself after coming?

  <3PEARLS: no

  TEMPTED909: I would savor every last drop

  My belly dipped and somersaulted and my palms were sweaty as I clutched the counter. I was already moist between the legs, and I wondered how I would last a whole shift with visions of my imaginary stranger between my legs.

  TEMPTED909: You promised me a picture once. What are your plans for tonight?

  <3PEARLS: I’m covering a late shift. Need to leave in ten or I’ll be late.

  TEMPTED909: We’ll chat later. Take a break and release some tension

  There were some days when I’d completely lose track of time chatting with him, in which case I would clock in to begin my shift just in the nick of time. That wasn’t a good idea considering I was on my own now. Losing this job was out of the question. I only had six months left before graduating with a degree in restaurant management. Working in the industry allowed me to study between slow moments and gain some experience. The salary wasn’t the best, but the tips sustained me to a point where I was making ends meet. The location of the restaurant was prime, sitting right outside the city near several high-end office buildings and condominiums.

  A glance at the time displayed on the corner of the screen told me it was time to leave for work.

  Just as I grabbed my keys and tote bag from the foyer, the doorbell rang. I blew out a half-surprised and half-exaggerated sigh, wondering if it was the lawn maintenance guy. He usually came every other Saturday to tidy up the yard. Hadn’t he gotten my voicemail message about rescheduling for next Saturday?

  I pulled the door open and nearly choked back my shock when I found my estranged husband, Rich, standing in the doorway and not Mr. Murphy, the lawn mower guy.

  “Hi Camille.” His blue eyes pierced through me. “On your way out somewhere?”

  No “How are you doing?” or “Did I come at a bad time?” Only an inquiry concerning my whereabouts.

  My eyes roved over his face, his clamped mouth, fixed jaw, and utterly flawless features. Sometimes I wondered if I fell in love with his Playboy-worthy looks more than the man himself. He barely ever smiled anymore, not since I declared that I was severing my ties to him and ending our marriage. Had I broken his spirit? He was always so happy when he could be the sex addict he was without notice and still live what he thought was the picture perfect life.

  I swallowed. “I’m going to work.”

  He lifted his wrist and looked down at his expensive watch. “I don’t remember you ever working this late.”

  “Well, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I have rent and tuition bills to pay.” I adjusted the tote bag on my shoulder. The tablet and other necessities inside suddenly felt heavier than usual.

  “Send me the bills. I’ll take care of them.”

  “No thanks,” I replied quickly, moving forward out of my home, causing him to step backward.

  “Your lawyer doesn’t understand me, doesn’t understand us. He only wants his fees and he’s getting really pushy, Camille.”

  I frowned. “That’s because I told him to be.”

  “Why are you in such a rush to end this? We all make mistakes, Camille. We can work on those together.”

  “You made dozens of mistakes and you refuse to learn from them. I’m going to move forward whether you like it or not. I don’t want this marriage, and deep down, neither do you.”

  “That doesn’t mean that I don’t want you, period,” he stated.

  I passed Rich on the steps, leaving him standing there. It didn’t take long for him to follow behind me down the driveway to my car. His shiny white Jaguar was parked inconveniently behind mine, so I needed to say something to get him off my back. Literally.

  “I feel like I’m being harassed by you, Rich. Do you extend this type of treatment to the other women in your life?”

  I unlocked the door using the key fob but before I could touch the handle, Rich had already opened it for me.

  “No, I don’t,” he said in almost a whisper. “But I know you won’t believe me.”

  The nerve of him. What made him think that I would fall for that lie when for months he’d been going behind my back fulfilling his lusty desires with women like he was enjoying an endless supply of Skittles?

  “You’re right. I won’t.” I tossed my bag in the passenger seat and slipped into the driver’s side. “Now what you can believe is that I will lose my job if I’m late. I’m sure you don’t care about wasting my time, but I bet you care about that pretty piece of metal blocking my way.”

  I glanced in my rearview mirror at his Jag, started my car, and revved the motor.

  “I’m sorry about everything, Camille.” His hand was on the inside handle of the car door. “I wish you could understand. Venture on my side of the fence for a moment. I got caught up. I had my…condition under control and slipped one time and messed everything up.”

  I caught his wandering gaze and held it. “And when you say venture on your side…?”

  “I think you should…” He visibly swallowed. “I want you to sleep with someone else. Maybe you’ll understand when I tell you there’s a difference between the casual sex I shared with women but had no intentions of ever seeing again and the sex that we had in our marriage bed.”

  I shook my head and held up my hand to stop the bullshit pouring from his mouth. “I can’t talk to you right now. Not today. Not ever.” Irritation ran through my heated veins. “Two wrongs don’t make a right, and this is not about what you want. Haven’t y
ou gotten that through your brain yet?”

  As I looked into his sea-blue eyes, seeing them swirling with confusion and regret, it dawned on me that he was still self-conceited in his ways. Was the free pass that he so blindly offered for my benefit or for his? What was he really trying to prove?

  His gaze narrowed on me. “I never want you to think that you aren’t good enough, because you are. You were a good girl when I met you, Camille. I messed that up for you. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to control myself. When you have some time, think about it, okay?”

  I didn’t say anything as a lump rose in my throat. I might have missed the cheating signs, but I’d known Rich long enough to filter out the bullshit from the real deal, especially when shit started hitting the fan about him stepping out on me. I learned how to detect his lies in the process of gathering evidence.

  Rich was genuinely sorry for being a bastard husband, but that didn’t change the fact that I was going through with this divorce whether he liked it or not.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Camille

  I was only three hours into my shift, but my mood still hadn’t progressed past the somber stage. Every part of me wanted to blame it on Rich and his untimely appearance. Several weeks had passed since the last time I had seen him, and even then the focus had been on our divorce. My lawyer had been present. Rich’s had not been, a convenience for him, but a nuisance for my lawyer and me. I knew he’d done it on purpose. He was wasting my time and my money.

  Why did I continue to allow Rich to dampen my spirits by bringing back memories that I wanted to keep buried deep? Should I face and relive my most vulnerable moments? And for what? Why not just prevent them from ever happening again?