Worshipped (Worshipped Series Book 1)

BOOK: Worshipped (Worshipped Series Book 1)














Brie Paisley




This book is a work of fiction. Any names, places, character names, establishments, locations, or incidents are the work of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance of actual persons, dead or alive, places, locations, establishments, or events are coincidental.


Copyright © 2015 by Brie Paisley

All rights reserved. This book is not to be copied, shared, or produced in any way without the written consent of the author.


Cover art by: 
The Final Wrap

Formatted by:
Ready, Set, Edit

Edited by:
Ready, Set, Edit

Table of Contents


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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen




I would love to thank everyone who stood behind me to make this book get to where it is. Without the support of my loyal friends, and fans, I could not have made it this far. Also my newly author friends I have made! Thank you for your help and answering any questions I had along the way.

Thank you to my husband, who listened to me nonstop about my ideas. Thank you for cheering me on when I hit a milestone. Love you babe.

I want to give a huge thank you to my awesome and wonderful PA! There were so many times I wanted to give up, but she pushed me forward. Thank you for staying up all night some nights with me to help edit/come up with a better idea. I could not have gotten as far as I have without all your help and support!

As I’m waiting ever so patiently in the doctor’s office, I can’t help but remember the reason I am here. Yet again. It feels like I am always at this place, waiting, hoping that this is the day. I have been over this scenario a thousand times over, and just once, I would love some good news. Even the medical posters in the exam room start to look the same because I’ve memorized all of them. I am about to go find a nurse to see what is taking so long when my doctor, Karen Keens, knocks on the door. Karen and I have been friends since high school. She has been there for me when everyone I thought had cared left my side.

“Good afternoon, Riley,” she says as if I am any other patient. This is why she is my OBGYN. She’s the best in the state of California.

“So, I expect you have the results in?” I ask impatiently.

“Yes, but I am afraid it’s bad news again. The in-vitro fertilization didn’t take,” she tells me somberly.

“Well we can’t say we didn’t give it all we have, now can we?”

“Riley, we can try it again in a few months, just give it another chance.”

At this point, I am exhausted. I have tried for four-and-a-half years to get pregnant; two years with my ex-husband, the other two and a half years alone. After Robert and I divorced, I didn’t think about having a baby until two years afterward. Two long and grueling years of poking and prodding from nurses and my doctors. I’ve wanted nothing more than to bear a child, and yet here I am again, another doctor telling me it is medically impossible for me to conceive.

“I think it’s time for us to move on, Karen. We have been through this and I don’t think I can go through another round. I appreciate everything you and your staff have done for me, but I going home now,” I tell her. Tears start to swell up in my eyes and I have a lump in my throat. I lower my head and stand up to leave.

“I am so sorry, Riley. Call me later and we can drink our sorrows away,” she tells me. Karen gives me a long hug and I promise to give her a call later that evening.

I make my way back to my SUV. I can no longer hold back the tears once I am finally alone. I just let go… let go of all the pain, misery, and regrets. Everything.

When I finally compose myself, I realize I need caffeine. I pull out of the clinic’s parking lot and head to the nearest Starbucks. “This is just what I need, a nice white chocolate mocha,” I tell myself, hoping that I will feel just an ounce better about today.

I pull into Starbucks twenty minutes later, relieved there isn’t a long line. “See, things are already looking up.” I kick myself mentally, knowing everyone inside is thinking I am a crazy lady who talks to herself.

I tell the barista what I would like and I play the waiting game. I am not a very patient person. I get what I want as soon as I can take it. That’s probably another reason why I am divorced. Okay, so not going there right now!

I grab my order and head toward the door. I walk out of Starbucks, so caught up in my own world, that I don’t see this guy come out of nowhere. This asshole bumps right into me, knocking my hot coffee all down my vintage white blouse.

“Oh! I am so sorry, miss,” the stranger says.

At this point I haven’t even looked at the guy. I’m flaming mad, wondering how much is this going to cost me to dry clean.

“Please let me buy you another coffee, it’s the least I can do since I poured it all over you.”

I have to look at him now. He definitely is a sight for sore eyes. He has jet black hair, and the bluest eyes I think I’ve ever seen. Standing probably at 6’5, I can tell he works out a lot. His muscles are showing in the sexiest way imaginable.

“Another coffee would be great, but I am running late for my meeting,” I tell him with a bit of regret in my voice.

I would love nothing more than to spend one afternoon with this man. This is the part where I think, “No, I know I am going insane”. He looks at me with that gorgeous smile, and I instantly feel wetness between my thighs. Good lord, woman, what has gotten into you today? It’s not like you haven’t had sex in two years. There is Cammie.

“Well maybe you could give me your number and I can make it up to you another time,” he asks, ever so sweetly. I comply and give him my “real” number.

Walking back to my SUV, I turn and ask him, “What should I call you? Mr. Clumsy?”

He laughs as he tells me, “You can call me Isaac. Isaac Walton.” At that, I turn and walk away, not trusting myself at this point. I have got to get a handle on my crazed emotions.

I really don’t have a meeting to get to. My afternoon appointment with Karen cleared my schedule for the day. This is a good thing. I need groceries among tons of other errands to run. Instead, I decide to go over to Cammie’s. She is just what I need to get my head on straight.

I know what you must be thinking, is she gay now? No, my friends, this gal is bisexual. I knew even when I was married I was bisexual. I never had the confidence to go for it. Robert, my ex, would never hear of my sexual fantasies. You would think a man would love to watch two women go at it, but not Robert. I haven’t been with a man since my ex-husband. That was over two years now.

I met Cammie at Jake’s Bar. She was the most beautiful, complicated person I have ever met. With her long, dark brown hair and deep green eyes, it was easy for me to take her home. When I first approached her, she was skeptical. After a few drinks we really hit it off. I took her back to my place the first night. We had wild passionate sex for hours. Cammie was full on lesbian. She had tricks no man has ever heard of.

Remembering why I took Cammie home that night, I arrive at her condo. On the south side of California, her place is absolutely stunning. I walk up to her door admiring the new gardenias she’s planted. That was Cammie; using her green thumb to put everyone to shame. I ring the doorbell and it only takes seconds for her to come answer the door.

“Well what a wonderful surprise,” she says.

At that I take it as my invite in. I don’t let her get more than an inch from closing the door before I slam her against the wall and start devouring her. She tastes like heaven mixed with summer and cinnamon. Delicious.

I strip her shirt off, noticing she isn’t wearing a bra. This turns me on even more. I caress her breasts as she starts reaching up my shirt. Cammie knows all too well why I come to her. Distraction.

I guide her to the couch where I lay her down and take off her pants. I start slowly making my way down. Kissing her neck, biting her pink nipples, and making chills come up all over her stomach.

Finally, when I know she can’t stand it anymore, I spread her lips open and start licking her clit. God how she screams for me. I am licking and sucking, just how I know she loves it. I know she’s already ready to come for me. She is moaning so loudly now. Cammie can get very vocal for me. Not that I am complaining, I love it just as much as she does.

I slide two fingers inside her; it won’t take long now. “Oh, Riley, I’m coming, I’m coming,” she tells me. That’s like music to my ears. I love hearing her come so hard on me.

When she’s done, she flips positions and now I am on my back naked. Cammie knows how I like it, she wasn’t too thrilled at first but then again I’ve always liked it a bit rough. She starts biting me, using her nails to bring marks on my stomach. She’s kissing and biting, all the while using her fingers to bring me close to the edge. In and out, back and forth, she starts licking and sucking my clit still using those delicate fingers of hers. It doesn’t take me long either to find my release.

When we are finished getting back dressed, Cammie asks “What was that about?”

I answer, “I just needed to clear my head.”

“You know I do love surprises. What happened to your blouse?” she asks.

“Some guy ran into me outside of Starbucks. I hope I can get this dry cleaned soon,” I tell her. Cammie isn’t very interested in this mystery man. She starts to say something, but I tell her, “I talked with Karen today.” At that, Cammie is her serious self as always.

“What did she say?” I sigh because I know Cammie wanted me to become pregnant just as bad as I did. I think mainly she thought we would stay together if I did.

“It didn’t take,” I tell her, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me. I already let it out once today, no sense in letting it control me.

“Riley, I’m so sorry. I know you were hoping that this time would be different,” Cammie says with so much sympathy it hurts.

“It’s fine, Cam. I knew the risks when I started. It’s just not meant to be.”

The way Cammie looks at me now is the way I swore I’d never let anyone look at me again. So, I do what I know best: I push her out. “Damn it, Cam! Don’t look at me that way! It makes me feel so pathetic.”

I start to put my shoes back on and she says, “Riley, don’t leave. Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

This is when I know it’s time for me to leave Cammie for good. I realize now I am too involved with her. That’s something I never wanted.

“Riley, please don’t leave,” she begs.

I don’t listen; she knew all I wanted was sex. Just the meaningless fuck every now and again to clear my head. Now I see she’s in love with me, and I am too broken to return that love. I tell her goodbye and walk out the door. I tell myself, “You’re doing what’s best for her. Getting out now before she really gets hurt”. This is the last thing I wanted today. Why can’t life just be simple? With simple people and simple tasks. I don’t understand how I got to this point in my life, but it’s the only way I know how to live.

When I get home, I am so worn down. All I have on the brain is a hot bath and a bottle of wine. So when I check my answering machine, I groan in misery when I realized I forgot to call Karen. “Shit, she’s going to make me come out tonight.” That’s how Karen is. I love my best friend, but damn…can’t a girl just relax a little?

I hit play on the machine, regretting the message as soon as I hear it. Karen’s tone of voice is very clear; I’m going out tonight whether I like it or not. Great. Just what I needed. A smoke-filled bar with men who try their best to take you home. I hit replay to make sure I have all Karen’s instructions down, and make my way to the fridge. I grab my bottle of wine and a glass and pour it to the brim. I take my glass to the bedroom and start looking for something to wear tonight. I realize I am in desperate need to go shopping. Oh well, maybe next weekend Karen and I can take a trip to L.A.

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