Authors: Nikki Prince
Evernight
Publishing
Copyright© 2013 Nikki Prince
ISBN:
978-1-77130-445-0
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Marie Medina
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution
of this copyrighted work is illegal.
No
part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without
written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and
places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To my girls who help me when I’m stuck on an idea: Piper, Kim, Michelle
and Shyla. Thank you so very much for your friendship. Love you
bunches. To my readers, thank you for keeping my dream alive.
RIDIN' RED
Once
Upon a Dream, 3
Nikki Prince
Copyright © 2013
Chapter
One
Anastasia Trumane couldn’t believe her misfortune at
seeing her old boyfriend and Dom Lucien Wolf at Club Fantasy, where it was said
that your fondest wishes come true.
Shit, did I wish him up?
She frowned
as she stood in the hotel room she had been renting with her sister since Cinda
had evicted them a few weeks ago. What a long story that was. Actually, it was
more of a nightmare than anything else, a nightmare that she and Drusilla had
caused.
It remained a rainy, dreary day, and the rain pelted
the window. She couldn’t get rid of the feeling that what was happening was
just another sign that things could swiftly go from bad to worse. It wasn’t
that she was upset with Cinda, because she and Drusilla deserved everything
that had happened to them. It wasn’t Cinda’s fault that karma had finally
caught up with them and now was kicking them in the ass.
Why had she listened to Drusilla? She’d gone to the
club, following Drusilla like a little puppy. How could she have known that
Lucien would be there? That he’d still look so damn good she wanted to lick
every last ab and finish that off with riding him until she was screaming his
name? She pressed her forehead against the window pane and closed her eyes.
“Lucien, please. I don’t want to go.” She could hear
the urgency in her own voice.
“You have to go. I neither want nor need you in my
life.”
“What the hell could have changed from last night to
make you say that?”
He looked so impassive standing there with his arms
across his chest and actually barring her from entering his condo.
“Take your things and go, Ana. I don’t want to see you
again. I will no longer be your Dom, and you are no longer tied to me as my
submissive.” And with those words he turned his back on her and went into his
place, closing the door in her face. He’d left her on his doorstep with her
suitcases and her dreams turning to shit.
“Ana!” Drusilla’s screeching pulled her from her
daydreaming, and she turned to look at her sister who was sitting on one of the
double beds painting her toenails. Dru had the craziest expression.
“Yes, Dru?”
“I’ve been talking to you for the past ten minutes.
What the hell are you thinking about that you’re not paying attention to me?”
“Sorry, I sorta zoned out.” She’d been trying to
ignore her sister’s incessant chatting.
“Yeah, I can tell. I said your name five times. Now
where was I? What did you want to do tonight?”
“I hadn’t thought that far.”
“Well, I’m tired of being cooped up in here and not
going anywhere. So if you want to go with me then get ready. If not, I’m
heading out. Perhaps go to a club tonight.”
She didn’t want to go to a club. She wanted to stay in
the room, and yes, mope. Okay, well, maybe not mope, but she wanted to remember
the last time she’d been really happy and try to figure out a plan to get that
way again.
“You go ahead, Dru. I’m not feeling well. I’ll stay
here.” Her sister rolled her eyes and made a huffing sound then shrugged.
“Suit yourself. You need to get laid.”
Leave it to Dru to make it sound so visceral. So blunt
and mannish.
“You’re probably right about that, but yeah, I’m
fine.” She turned back towards the window and saw that the rain was lifting. It
was a perfect time to order in and get cozy in the bed with a good book. If she
couldn’t have her Prince Charming like Cinda, perhaps she could dream about having
one and live vicariously through fiction. Love was a fantasy anyway. If she’d
learned anything from her encounter with Luc, it was that love was fleeting and
not real.
Drusilla sniggered from her corner of the room, but
Anastasia didn’t bother to look around. “Fine? Fine, you say? Hmmph, not even
close, but if you like it, I love it.”
Drusilla didn’t say anything more and for that
Anastasia was thankful. At this point in her life, she was getting tired of
Dru’s incessant opinions and whining. It was getting harder and harder to
ignore her. So it was best Dru was going out for the night.
She was a fool. All this time and she was still
wondering what Lucien was up to. He’d kicked her to the curb, not the other way
around, so she supposed that was the reason she still thought of him. She
wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to melt into his touch and be called his baby
girl once more. Those were all foolish dreams. The derision on his face when
he’d seen her at the club had been potent.
The guards had separated her from Drusilla in the
beginning and as luck would have it, Lucien was given the task of watching her
until he’d been relieved of his post. He’d stood at the door not talking to
her; it was the worst thing of all to have his silence.
“Lucien,” she’d said softly. He hadn’t even turned her
way. He just stared straight ahead.
“Please, Luc, talk to me.” That was when he’d turned
to look at her.
“What is it you want me to say, Ana?” Eyes as blue as
ice bore into her, making her shiver and want to hide herself from his gaze.
“I don’t know, but I don’t want you to just stand
there as if we don’t know one another.”
“The Ana I knew before wouldn’t have done what
happened here tonight.”
“You’re probably right about that. Though the Ana you
knew is no longer. You made sure of that when you made me leave.” Luc had
frowned, his lips tightening, and just when she thought he’d say something in
his defense, the door had opened.
Those last words had ended their conversation as he’d
once again turned into ‘Captain-don’t-give-a-fuck.’ The owner of the club had
come in, and there wasn’t a chance to even come close to talking to him again.
The one thing that remained a constant was the need
she was feeling for a man who wanted nothing to do with her. Absently, she
listened to Drusilla moving about the room and getting ready for her night on
the town. The single nice thing was that Dru would party until it was the next
day and at least she wouldn’t have to be bothered with her fussing or trying to
steer her in any one direction. She didn’t know how long she stood there
looking out the window. The silence was beautiful, only to be cut by the sound
of Drusilla leaving, and she wasn’t even sure if she’d said goodbye.
Maybe a nice warm shower would cool the ardor rushing
through her body. She’d do anything to forget him, to stop the dreams that only
held his image and his touch. Turning she strolled to the bathroom, stripping
out of her shorts and tank top, tossing them into the small hamper in the
bathroom. She gathered her hair into a bun and pinned it up.
She adjusted the water to the heated temperature she
liked and stepped in, closing the sliding glass door and letting the water hit
her body full blast. Bracing herself with her hands she leaned forward, placing
her face into the water. Anastasia grabbed her cloth that was hanging in the
shower and lathered it after leaning back. Her body still hummed with
unrequited desire.
Fuck, it was going to be a long, long night
.
Perhaps Drusilla was right, She needed to get good and
nailed by some unnamed, faceless cock. She didn’t want to know who fucked her.
She wanted hard and fast sex. The man or men who gave that to her didn’t have
to be someone she knew; in fact, she preferred it if she didn’t know them.
Anonymous sex. It was fast becoming a craving. Hard, quick, and animalistic.