WEDDING BELL BLUES

PROLOGUE

This isn’t a wedding, it’s a merger between two powerful families, coming together to form an unstoppable empire. This isn’t love, it’s business.

  When I was informed I would marry Shaw, I didn’t bat an eyelash. We’d been ‘dating’ for over a year. Plus, I’d been raised with the understanding I was bred for ‘a greater purpose’. I was educated at the best private schools and learned about wifely behavior from my mother, all with the goal of being the perfect trophy wife. I’ve always done what my parents asked of me, without hesitation or question, and to the best of my abilities. Their happiness is important to me, even if it means mine isn’t. I’m willing to sacrifice it for the betterment of our family.

  I’m a good daughter, a doting daughter, an obedient daughter.

  My entire path has been paved and laid out before me. I’m sitting in the backseat of my own life, my parents at the wheel, while I watch the world flash past my window.

  My father, a politician from Pennsylvania with his eye on the White House, made the arrangement with Shaw’s father, Louis LeBlanc, a wealthy businessman from New Orleans who wants a hand in the political game.

  The first time I met him, he insisted I call him Papa Lou—right before he pinched my backside.

  My father wants his money. LeBlanc wants my father’s influence. Shaw wants me.

  This marriage will be one of convenience and breeding, carrying on the name and bloodline, rather than about needing to spend our lives together, not being able to live our lives without the other by our side. It’s all very technical, mechanical, methodical.

   I’m in front of the vanity, in the bridal suite of an opulent manor in the heart of the Garden District. My hair is done and impeccable, not a strand out of place. Like my life seems to be. My makeup is camera ready, a mask to hide my pain. My dress is elegant, expensive, designer, of course, like my husband-to-be.

  Over the past year and a half, I convinced my heart I love Shaw because I had to. In some faint way, I do. Or I’ve fooled myself into believing I do.

  It doesn’t matter though. Minutes from now, I’ll be his wife…whether I want it or not.

CLICK HERE FOR MORE ➜➜ BLACK MAGNOLIA

GAME OF PRETEND

“Are we gonna talk about it?”

“Let’s pretend what happened, didn’t,” I suggest.

“I’m down for a game of pretend.” He shrugs, still looking out at the brick garden.

“Good.” I release the breath I choked back when he mentioned our wet, naked encounter.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t want to take you right there in the bathroom.” He turns toward me, his arms crossed on the table, and leans in. “I’ll pretend I didn’t want to bend you over the sink, press your face into the mirror, and fuck you until you release all over me.”

And I’ll pretend I didn’t want you to.

“Greier.”

“Don’t worry, Rae.” He sits back in his chair again. “I know the deal.”

Black Magnolia

2.13.18

⚜ ♔ ⚜ MIDNIGHT SPECIAL ⚜ ♔ ⚜

“Maybe I should’ve gone with him.”

Her comment stuns me.

I’m disgusted and hurt she’d even consider going back to that scumbag. But I remind myself this isn’t Rae talking. Not my Rae. This is her father, her mother, years of brainwashing and training.

“Why would you say that?”

Her arms still folded around herself, she strolls over to the open terrace doors and stares out toward the alley. “We wouldn’t be here. You’d be safe, and I’d be…”

“His prisoner, Reagan,” I cut her off, finished entertaining to the drivel coming from her mouth. “You’d be his fucking prisoner. He doesn’t love you. You’re an object to him, something to possess. His daddy bought you for him, remember? And if you went back, that’s all you’d ever be—” I walk over to her from behind, wrapping myself around her, “when you’re so much more.” Her head flops back against my shoulder with a sigh. I set my mouth in her midnight hair. “I’d rather die than let him cage you.”

“Why are you hell-bent on saving me?” she questions with a sad playfulness and a tremor in her voice, as if she’s dreading the answer.

“It’s my blessing and my burden,” I reply as I had before, but this time, I’d sign my soul to the devil if it meant her safety.

⚜ ♔ ⚜ UNTIL DEATH ⚜ ♔ ⚜

“He’s dangerous, Rae. A monster. Wealthier than God. And darker than the devil. He isn’t gonna give you up. In his mind, you belong to him.”

   She peers into nothingness and whispers without emotion, “Until death do us part.”

    The words tear down my spine.

RUN AWAY FEBRUARY 13, 2018

BLACK MAGNOLIA COVER REVEAL

Run Away 2.13.18

PLAYING NICE

Later, after I’ve bathed the day away, I stand out on the balcony overlooking Bourbon, pearls of water across my skin. A gust of velvet wind strokes the inside of my thighs, blowing the silky material of the blue kimono I’m wrapped in until it dances around my bare ass. It’s delicious and makes me feel a shade naughty. It’s late, and I left the balcony dark, so I don’t see the harm.

  Suddenly, Greier steps behind me and places his hands on the railing, boxing me in with his arms.

  “I know I shouldn’t say this,” he whispers against my neck, “but you have a phenomenal backside. I could bite into it like a juicy apple.”

  His clothed erection grazes it. Trying desperately not to melt like a popsicle, I breathe out an involuntary breath. It caught in my throat when his words brushed across the soft, damp skin of my collar.

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about you today.” A mix of cashmere lips and jagged breaths caress the sensitive area behind my ear. I clench my thigh muscles and gird my loins.

  “It’s sweet of you to think of me,” I reply with a shaky voice, cracking at the end.

  “There was nothing sweet about what I was thinking.” His warm mass presses mine into the wrought iron lace. I whimper when it grinds into my clitoris.

  “You promised to play nice,” I whisper between pants, my lungs betraying me.

  “I never played well with others.”

  “You shouldn’t…” I can’t even finish the sentence.

  “Stop me, Rae,” the point of his nose navigates the shell of my ear, “push me away. Order me to leave you alone, to stop thinking of you every fucking second of every fucking moment, and I will. Believe me, it would make my life a lot easier. But if there’s even the slightest chance you want me too, don’t say a word.”

  His teeth quickly bite into my earlobe before his healing mouth smooths away the sharp edge of the sting.

  He sets his hands on my waist and spins me around, shoving me against a support with his body. His lips linger over mine.

  “Last call.”

  My front teeth scrape my lower lip, a half-assed attempt at locking my mouth shut. His warm, soft mouth covers mine like a comfy blanket on a cold night. His kiss is so tender where his hands are rough. Slowly, the dance of our lips deepens. His hands disappear into my hair, his fingers grasping at the roots. My head falls back, and my lips part like the red sea to welcome him inside.

BlackMagnolia

RUIN ME

“What are you up to, Abs?”

I smile at her coyly. “Whatever do you mean, Meg?”

She shakes her head and kisses me on the cheek. “I’ll talk to you later.” Sliding in the cab, she gives me one last glance before the car drives away.

I walk up Hanover a few blocks, the bright burn of the neon sign outside his tattoo shop coming into view. Not sure what I’m doing, I open the front door without hesitation, entering the warmth inside. For an instant, I stand there second-guessing my decision. Then, Jamison’s deliciously masculine voice says my name, “Abby?”

My eyes float up to his, unique and questioning.

I want to say something clever, witty, charming, but all that comes out is, “Hello,” in a breathy voice.

Oh, that’s genius.

“Hi,” he says, a ghost of a smile cracking the perpetual hard line of his lips. “Why are you here?”

I forgot to think of a reason. I can’t tell him I stopped by because I missed him. That would be strange.

“To thank you for what you did for me.”

“It’s not necessary.” He smiles sympathetically as if he were saying ‘You crazy woman, leave me be.’ “Have a good night, Abby.” He walks into one of the tattoo rooms, disappearing behind a blue velvet curtain.

If I were smart, I would walk right out the door and stop bothering the poor guy. Instead, I follow him back. I guess I’m not smart. When he hears the curtain open, he glances over his shoulder, bewildered. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I,” I want you to take me right here on the table. I want you to ruin me, “was hoping you’d take a peek at my tattoo, make sure it’s healing alright.”

He seems to break a little, nodding. “Sure.”

While he parks his presumably fine ass on a stool, I take off my jacket, position myself in front of him, turning my hip toward him, and lift the hem of my dress, the thorny vine peeking out. He chokes down a gulp when he notices I’m not wearing any panties. I haven’t been able to since I got the thing where the strap normally sits.

“Um,” he stutters, skimming his fingertips over the exposed area. They’re electric. “Have you been cleaning it like I instructed?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Well, everything looks better than expected,” he assures me. “It appears you’re almost fully healed.”

“Thanks for taking a look,” I utter.

“You’re welcome,” he replies.

I wait for him to remove his hands, but he doesn’t.

“I should leave,” I state, internally praying something miraculous occurs to keep me here with him, a massive snowstorm, a citywide blackout, a divine intervention.

“Yeah,” he agrees, his fingers digging into my hips, “you should.”

Feeling off-kilter, I watch him fixedly, my eyelids like lead from his touch. It’s dizzying—really dizzying.

He stares up at me with a knitted brow, concern in his mismatched eyes. “Abby,” he says, but it sounds warped.

I don’t feel very—

Jamison

AVAILABLE NOW

THE BRIDE & THE BACHELOR

“I apologize for being nothing but a burden to you.”

  “Truthfully,” he says, his warm breath brushing against the top of my head, “you’ve been a nice distraction.”

  Goose bumps freckle my skin.

  Speaking of distracting, the way his body molds to mine is doing a very good job.

  “Do you love your ex-girlfriend?” If that question was made of metal, it would be brass. It’s not my business. But it’s out there, looming over us. No taking it back.

  “I thought I did.” He pauses on a breath. “Do you love him? Your…”

  “I thought I did.”

  He’s got the itch to ask me if that’s why I ran. I sense it in the way his muscles tighten and still. That’s what I’d want to know if I were him. And I scratch.

  “He did something unforgiveable.”

    He eases.

  “You don’t have to explain more. Not tonight.” His hand runs across my back. It’s comforting. “But, don’t you have anyone looking for you?”

  “I doubt it.” It’s not entirely true. I’m sure Shaw is wondering where I went. In his eyes, he owns me. I’m sure my parents are looking for me. The campaign fund counts on it. I’m sure Shaw’s family is looking for me. They want their money’s worth. “I’m unloved, unappreciated, unwanted.”

  He clamps a supportive hand on my shoulder. I glance at it and then him, a sincerity on his face. “Maybe you are unappreciated. I can believe that. But there’s no fucking way you’re unwanted.”

  “You believe that, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  I cringe at those two simple words.

  “How could you?” I face away from him.

  But he brings my gaze back to his with a gentle coaxing of my chin. “Because I want you.”

  For reasons beyond me—alcohol, the need to feel desired, my attraction to him, D, all of the above—I lift my mouth to his, kissing him with every bit of energy I have after today. Surprisingly, it’s a lot. I mount him, continuing my desperate assault on his lips. He grasps his long fingers around my biceps, lifting me away from him. His eyes search for mine through the mess of black hair hanging around my face. His face tenses as he fights himself. But I feel his want between my thighs.

  “I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he says, sincere concern in his expression. It makes me want him more.

  “I need this,” I do need this. I need to feel wanted, to feel want for someone else, even for a few minutes, “and you need this. It’s win win.”

  I’ve never slept around. Every man I’ve been with was a long-term boyfriend. But here I am, on my wedding night, ready to let a man inside me who is definitely not my husband. I don’t even know his last name.

  But I want to come in this man’s arms.

  I want it.

  I want him.

  “Use me,” I plead, my hips grinding into his cock, coming out of the slit in his bottoms.

  He sits up, taking me with him, and then stares straight into my eyes. He presses his palm to the back of my head and the other on my ass, holding me against him. Like I’d try to get away.

  “Fuck,” he breathes out, “you’re so beautiful.”

  His mouth moves in, kissing along my jaw and down my neck. He removes his hand and then the sound of a drawer opening fills the silent room. He continues kissing me, touching me, wanting me. His other arm moves from my ass to around my lower back, and he lifts me up. I hear the rip of a wrapper and the stretch of rubber as it expands over something hefty in size.

  “Greier,” I whisper, my hands finding his face, the roughness of his stubble under my fingertips. His fingers push my panties aside.

  “Reagan,” he moans against my collarbone, entering me.

BLACK MAGNOLIA 

(2.13.18)

© Lena Black 2017

BLACK MAGNOLIA PROLOGUE

Prologue

This isn’t a wedding, it’s a merger between two powerful families, coming together to form an unstoppable empire. This isn’t love, it’s business.

When I was informed I would marry Shaw, I didn’t bat an eyelash. We’d been ‘dating’ for over a year. Plus, I’d been raised with the understanding I was bred for ‘a greater purpose’. I was educated at the best private schools and learned about wifely behavior from my mother, all with the goal of being the perfect trophy wife. I’ve always done what my parents asked of me, without hesitation or question, and to the best of my abilities. Their happiness is important to me, even if it means mine isn’t. I’m willing to sacrifice it for the betterment of our family.

I’m a good daughter, a doting daughter, an obedient daughter.

My entire path in life has been planned and laid out before me. I’m sitting in the backseat of my own life, my parents at the wheel, while I watch the world flash past my window.

My father, a politician from Pennsylvania with his eye on the White House, made the arrangement with Shaw's father, a Louisiana businessman from old money, who wants a hand in the political game. My father wants his money. He wants my father’s influence.

Our marriage will be one of convenience and breeding, carrying on the name and bloodline. Rather than about needing to spend our lives together, not being able to live our lives without the other by our side. It’s all very technical, mechanical, methodical.

I’m in front of the vanity, in the bridal suite of an opulent manor in the heart of the Garden District. My hair is done and impeccable, not a strand out of place. Like my life pretends to be. My makeup is camera ready, a mask to hide my pain. My dress is elegant and expensive, designer, of course. Just like my husband-to-be.

Over the past year and a half, I convinced my heart I love Shaw because I had to. In some faint way, I do. Or I’ve fooled myself into believing I do.

It doesn’t matter though. Minutes from now, I’ll be his wife…whether I want it or not.

Black Magnolia 

Lena Black

AVAILABLE FEB. 13, 2018

Are You Ready For Salvation?

Once we signed on the dotted line, and I managed to convince Elle to join me for lunch, we headed out. The car ride to the restaurant was tense. It wasn’t because of her. At least, not for anything she was doing. It was me. I was insane for taking the daughter of my business partner and friend out, even for a platonic lunch.

Platonic, yeah. There was nothing platonic about my plans for her. I wanted her in every way a depraved man like me could want her. Flashes of her lace-covered breasts and thighs poking out from her work attire kept reminding me of my intentions. She was tempting me even in the car, her fragile hand placed between us since we left, her shapely legs crossed and leaning toward mine, the way her hourglass curves filled out her blouse and skirt.

“I’m pleased you walked into the meeting,” I remarked emotionlessly, attempting to appear in control outwardly and subdue myself inwardly.

“Yeah, you seem it,” she snapped.

I couldn’t blame her. I knew my actions were confusing.

“I am, but I know this is wrong.”

“What’s wrong?”

“This. You and I, us, together.”

“I wasn’t aware we were together. If it’s a problem, why invite me to go to lunch?” she asked with an affronted tone.

It was a simple yet damning question. And the answer was clear. Even though I was bound by a promise, I couldn’t stay away. I wanted to be near her. I wanted her scent in my nose. I wanted to admire her beautiful face in the flesh, not frozen in the captured moments hung across her parents’ home. I wanted her, which is why I kept an emotional wall between us. I couldn’t get close. And I couldn’t be candid about my intentions either. So, I told her a shade of the truth.

“I have an opportunity, and I plan to take it. I should keep my distance from you, but I find it difficult. You’re a good girl, and I don’t want to take advantage of your…respectabilities.”

“You need not be concerned with my respectabilities.” 

A DOMINANT SALVATION 

Saving Mr. Hunt

“As terrible as it all was, Damian, it’s what made us strong enough to handle everything that’s happened since. I think if we didn’t experience its hardship, we’d crumble now. We’re survivors, Damian, not victims.”

He places his forehead against my lips, his eyes shut tightly. He lets out a shaky breath. I know he’s fighting back his emotions. He always tries to be a rock for me, but under the weight of time, even rocks can crumble. It’s only a matter of time.

“You’re so much stronger than I am,” he murmurs.

My heart melts into a puddle of emotion. Here, my husband, my pillar of strength, my protector, revealing the kinks in his armor.

Knowing how it calms him, I comb my fingers through his hair, kissing him across his face.

“I want to be your strength, Damian.” My lips hover over his now. “I want to be your salvation.”

He exhales the breath he’s been holding into my mouth, breathing life into my lungs. He is the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins. He is my entire existence, and I’m desperately happy to give it all to him.

Saying the words I didn’t know I needed to hear, “I’ll love you until the end of eternity,” I take his mouth onto mine, lifting myself onto the tip of his swollen head.

I let him take refuge in my body, harboring him in the depths of my womb.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Hunt! (EXCERPT)

I’d planned Hunt’s Birthday, wanting to do something amazing for him, but it couldn’t have gone worse if I’d planned it…

I had woken him with breakfast in bed, but when his eyes opened, I could see he wasn’t in a good mood. He choked down his breakfast almost reluctantly, as if he were only doing it for my sake. I knew something was really wrong then. He loved my cooking, devoured every bite as if it was his first and last meal.

I shook it off. I was hell-bent on making it a wonderful day for him, to change it from a day of mourning his parents’ deaths to a day of celebrating his life.

While we were in the shower, I gave him his first birthday present, my hungry mouth wrapped about his cock. Though he enjoyed it, he seemed distant.

I’d begged him to stay home with me, but he insisted on going into the office. Even though it hurt me, I understood he needed time to lose himself in work. It also gave me time to put the finishing touches on my plans. I asked him not to work late and he promised he wouldn’t. With that, he left me, and I set out on my day.

I had spent it thinking about him and running errands. I wanted everything to be perfect. No detail left undone.

Later that evening, when everything was ready, Liam called to let me know they were about to arrive home. Everyone hid behind couches and chairs, anywhere they could find, dressed in their costumes, giggling to each other. When we heard the elevator open, the lights came on and everyone jumped up to yell, “Surprise!”

The look on his face was devastating. His jaw was clenched and his mouth was in a sharp line, brows furrowed, face a vibrant red. He stared me down with a look I’ve never seen from him before, as if I’d betrayed him. He turned without a word and got back in the elevator. Just as the doors were about to shut, I slid in next to him.

He didn’t look at me or acknowledge my presence. It had killed me.

“Would you please say something?” I pleaded with him.

“What do you want me to say?” His eyes remained on the elevator doors.

“Why did you leave?”

He whipped around, pinning me against the wall. “Why the fuck did you do this, Gabrielle? You know I hate my birthday, you know it brings me nothing but pain. Why would you think I’d want to celebrate that?”

“I was hoping I could change it for you, make it a day of happiness. I see this as a day to celebrate…It was the day you came into this world, the day that started your journey toward me. I think that’s worth celebrating.”

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, pushing away from me.

“I can’t do this right now,” he murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t be here.”

“Where are you going to go?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Damian, don’t be this way. Please. I love you. I want to spend your birthday with you.”

The doors opened into the underground garage and he stepped out. “I’ll be home later.”

I stood there, watching him walk away, too scared to go after him.

Later, well after two, he finally came home, smelling of expensive whiskey and cigar smoke. I could smell it across the room. I’d pretended I was asleep as he undressed and headed to the shower to rinse some of the stink off him. When he was done, he came to bed and crawled in behind me. He scooped his arm about my waist and brings me into his very naked body, squeezing me.

He kissed me on the neck tenderly and whispered, “I’m sorry, angel. I’m sorry I’m so fucked up.”

I turned to him, shifting in his grasp.

“I know you’re sorry. But you aren’t fucked up. You’re wonderful, flaws and all.”

“I still miss them, Elle. I would give anything to have them back.”

He broke down, and I enfolded myself about him, holding his head against my chest. I held him until he cried himself out, falling asleep in my loving embrace.

I laid awake that night, replaying his words in my head. They broke my heart, because unlike so many, he had the means to back up his statement. He could obtain anything he desired, except the one thing he’d give it all up to have. It couldn’t be bought. And I couldn’t fix it. 

copyright © Lena Black

That Body

“I’ll never get enough of that body,” Damian says from behind me, startling me. He’s leaning on the frame of our bedroom door, his emerald eyes dull and fatigued.

“Slick,” I murmur with a saddened quiver.

“Don’t. I just want to get into that bath with you right now and forget.”

“I want that too,” I agree, knowing how devastated he must be, knowing my body is his sanctuary. 

copyright © Lena Black

Dangerous Curves

copyright © 2016 Lena Black

Hunt's Passion

The doors open directly into the two-story high, main living area. It’s breathtaking. It isn’t what I expected, which was a cold, modern, sterile environment, but this space is masculine and cozy, inviting me to stay awhile. The walls are painted a dark shade of gray, with black and white photos of landmarks around San Francisco and the world, adorning them. They contain a depth and beauty that captures the photographer’s view of the world. They are truly exceptional.

A DOMINANT MAN

A DOMINANT MAN

© 2014 Lena Black

The Women of Hunt

The following Friday, Damian leaves for a conference in San Diego. Saturday, I pick up Brooke. She seems tense the whole ride. She taps her leg and clenches the handle on the door. She’s usually confident and cool. She holds her head up high and looks you right in the eye. But the person sitting next to me is a mess, a little girl with serious confidence issues.

“You’re going to be fine,” I assure her.

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“Trust me.”

“How did I let you talk me into this?”

“I know…And you’re a lawyer. I must’ve made one hell of an argument.”

“If I didn’t love you and Damian so much I would never consider doing this in a million damn years. I’d be safer sticking my head in an alligator’s mouth.”

“I think you’re being dramatic.”

We pull up to the beautiful Victorian and get out. Brooke hesitates on the wet sidewalk, her hands clasped in front of her. She’s staring down at her heeled feet. I’ve never seen her like this before. She’s so submissive. I slide my arm through hers, giving it an assuring squeeze. She nods when she’s ready. I lead her to the door and ring the bell twice.

“This is a crazy idea,” she comments before the door opens and Marlena appears looking like business in her onyx suit. She isn’t wearing a camisole under the jacket, her impressive cleavage peeking out of the top. She’s all sex and Dominant bravado.

“Hello, kitten,” she purrs, giving me the fuck me eyes she has down to a science.

“Hello, Marlena,” I greet her.

Her eyes move to Brooke standing so close to me, you’d swear we were Siamese twins.

“You’re looking well, Miss Evans.” She smiles at her.

I think Brooke is unsure of her authenticity, but smiles tightly back at her.

“Hello.”

She straightens out her shoulders and lifts her head up high, retaining the Brooke I know and love.

“Please, come in.”

copyright © Lena Black