Authors: Suzanne Steele,Stormy Dawn Weathers
©Ebony and Ivory Series
Copyright © 2013 Suzanne Steele
Published by Suzanne Steele
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of Fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced. It may not be used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the Author.
Cover photo © Dollar Photo Club
Cover Copyright © Suzanne Steele
Cover Design by Mayhem Cover Creations
Formatting by Suzanne Steele
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All content herein is protected under copyright law.
This e-book is Rated 17+
To the Reader
The men I write about are Alpha males in every sense of the word. They are the men society warns us about. They are dominant males with controlling tendencies. They are the men you know you should stay away from, yet
you are drawn like a moth to a flame. If you are looking for a sweet romance, you won't find it here. What you will find is dark passion. Many times my heroes carry what would be
considered an obsession for the women they love. Each and every character I write about has demanded their voice be heard. I have been true to that calling, and I have stayed true to their personalities, which at times, the reader may not always agree with. They are dark, they are gritty, and many times, their love is dysfunctional, but nonetheless, it is real.
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Table of Contents
I look around the concrete cellar where I’m being kept and pull at my manacled wrists, another futile attempt to escape the monster who imprisoned me here. This is not supposed to be happening. I have safeguards in place. I take every precautionary measure I know to take. Still, here I am, chained to the floor like an animal. I thought I was being so very careful. Apparently, it was not enough to ensure my safety.
I’m a high fashion model, but I only ever go on shoots with legitimate photographers, and I always research their reputations beforehand. It’s one of my rules, and it’s one I implemented because it’s supposed to keep me safe. That is what has me so baffled. When I hear the slap of footsteps on concrete, I’m pulled from my thoughts. I look up and watch as the metal door opens. It makes a horribly ominous screeching sound as the bottom scrapes against the floor.
“Okay, this is a joke, right? Some kind of kinky photo shoot for a high dollar magazine?”
He doesn’t answer my questions. The lifting of his hand is his only response, and that’s when I see it. He’s holding a Nikon D3100 camera, and he immediately begins to circle me, taking my picture. My eyes have trouble adjusting to the camera’s bright flash in the darkened room. When he speaks, his voice sends icy tendrils of fear up and down my spine while, at the same time, the commands he’s giving offer me a false sense of hope. Perhaps this is just some kind of unconventional photo shoot.
“That’s it, kitten… Let me see the fear in your eyes. I want to catch it all on film. Tell me you’ll do any fucking thing I want.”
“Please don’t hurt me. I won’t tell anyone. You haven’t done anything bad yet.”
He circles me again and continues to throw out verbal commands.
“Back away from me like you’re scared.”
That command is an easy one. I hurry to comply and end up scraping the back of my legs on the hard concrete as I drag my body away from him. I watch as he sets the camera up on a tripod that, in the darkness of the room, I hadn’t noticed until now.
I watch, horrified, as he pulls a knife from his pocket and makes his way towards me.
“Please, I’m begging you.” My voice comes out sounding weak, and I hate myself for being so afraid.
The last thing I see before a razor sharp knife slices through my throat like hot butter is the flash of the camera, set on a timer to immortalize my death. The moment of my murder will be given longevity, no doubt becoming a cherished piece of morbid history. A feeling of being suffocated overtakes me. I am drowning in my own blood, struggling to breathe, and I open my eyes to see the truth. It was only a dream.
It takes me a moment to get my mental bearings, and I have to look around just to prove to myself I’m not in a cellar. No, I am in the mansion of a man who has promised to protect me, a man who I believe is in love with me. Day by day, he pulls me deeper into his web of obsession simply because he is always there for me when I need him.
Damon came into my life at a time when I was in desperate need of help. I had no money, no career, and I lived in fear of a stalker who had, for some unfathomable reason, become obsessed with me.
Like the answer to a prayer, Damon showed up and not only helped me, but offered to help my family in Haiti as well. Any woman would happily jump into his bed and count herself lucky if he offered a relationship, but there’s a problem… He’s white, and I’ve never dated a white man. He’s also my boss. We come from two different worlds, and my logical side keeps telling me I’m just asking for problems if I give in to his advances. My heart isn’t listening though, and little by little, he is winning me over with his kindness and intense nature.
I don’t think I have ever met a more handsome man. He is tall, maybe 6’2”, with an athletic build that fills out his tailor-made suits to perfection. His onyx eyes are piercing, commanding pools of promise, and every time he pins me with that powerful gaze, I hear his unspoken oath that he won’t quit until he has what he wants—me. His raven hair is cropped short on the sides but longer on top and makes my fingers itch to run through it. As if his looks weren’t enough to pull me into his vortex of passion and seduction, his demeanor is arrogant, cocky, controlling, and dominant. Everything about him is a total turn-on, and I’m not the only woman he affects like this; every woman he comes in contact with wants to be near him, wants to be with him.
Damon is here in my life, and he’s made it quite clear he isn’t going anywhere. For better or worse, this is our story.