Page 3 of Sweet Surrender
Dale had drawn her attention immediately. He was the ultimate Bad Boy, intense, mysterious and she couldn’t deny her attraction to him. Things had been great when they were together; he was funny, affectionate and more or less adequate in bed.
But then he began to demand things from her that she wasn’t able to give, so she had broken it off, hoping to save him from further heartbreak. At first he accepted it, thinking it was just some twisted game she was playing to get him to want her more. When he realized it was real, he wasn’t happy and now he wouldn’t leave her alone.
A twig snapped behind her and she spun around, startled. But there was no one there.
She fumbled with her key in the lock but finally got it in and ran inside, slamming the door shut behind her and sliding the bolts across the top and bottom. She had added them when Dale started hanging around more, watching her with ice blue eyes that she once thought were pretty. Now she saw they were empty. Now they scared her.
She sank against the door, waiting until her heartbeat slowed, berating herself for being silly and overreacting. When she was calm, she switched on her old TV for background noise and went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.
Most people had never been inside her cabin, most people didn’t know she was obsessed with pink. And why would they? She wasn’t a teenager, she was an aggressive, rude, tattooed thirtysomething. Her décor was pink, her furniture was pink, her life was pink, multiple shades of pink. Her pink couch sat on her pink carpet next to her pink coffee table.
While the kettle boiled on her stove, she headed out the back door to stock up the bird feeder and throw some more nuts out for the little squirrel family she was raising. Animals seemed to flock to Taylor, she’d always been an animal lover but hadn’t wanted to have any pets because of the hours she worked, thinking it wouldn’t be fair. So, she developed a little wild fur family, like a freaking Disney princess.Little munchkins won’t clean my house though.
Back inside she headed to the kitchen to wait for the kettle to finish boiling and dared a glance up through the window, already knowing it was a mistake. Her kitchen window looked directly into the next cabin and she had a clear view of Beau. And his date.
I can’t believe he managed to get her back into his room, is his dick made of solid gold or something? Oh my God stop thinking about his dick!
She watched as he closed the drapes and any remaining lights went out. Her stomach dipped again and she hated herself for it. Hated herself for finding him attractive. Hated him for the way he had ruined her life and then abandoned her like so many others. Hated him for a decisionshemade that had changed her life forever.
But most of all, she hated him for being the only man to ever break her heart.
Chapter 2
Breath sawed in and out of Beau’s lungs as his feet pounded the pavement. He pushed himself harder either to beat his personal best or to drive away all his unwanted thoughts, whichever happened first.
He hadn’t been able to close the deal with a woman yet again. He knew exactly why, and it made him pissed as hell. Despite his anger, he fought the urge to smile at Taylor’s antics last night. Usually she attacked his physical characteristics but telling his date he was a murderer was a new twist and very creative. Taylor kept him on his toes, testing his charm skills to the absolute max, pushing him to be better. He’d barely managed to convince his poor date that he wasn’t a killer, even placing a quick call to one of his best buddies, Deputy Sheriff Blake Miller to confirm he was in factnota serial killer.
But by then, the damage was done and she wasn’t interested in hooking up. He couldn’t let her wander off in the middle of the night, so he let her wait inside his cabin for her ride home. Like a gentleman, he had waited outside on the porch as she still didn’t fully trust him enough to be alone with him.
The scoreboard stood at Beau: a big fat zero; Taylor: let’s face it, a million at this point. That woman had ruined so many of his dates he’d lost count. It was like she made it her mission to mess with him, trying to get under his skin and make life as inconvenient as possible for him.
“Mission accomplished,” he muttered.
He loved and hated their verbal sparring. Loved it because it meant at least she still cared about him. If she was indifferent, she wouldn’t bother. Hated it because it turned him into a person he never wanted to be with her. Being around Taylor transformed him into a raging sack of testosterone. All his impulses screamed to take her, put her over his knee, punish her for her sass until she was sorry, or until she was begging him for more. The image fired his blood, made his pulse pound and itscaredhim. He was known as Mr Cool, Calm and Collected, he was gentle and caring. He had never acted like that with a woman before, had never got off on that type of aggressive, dominant behavior. But with Taylor…God he never wanted it to stop, how fucked up was that?
Beau ran through the little town center like he did every day on his morning run. Citrus Pines was his home, despite both him and his family moving away, this was where his roots were. He had recently moved back from L.A where he’d been living for the past fifteen years.
He liked it in the city but the older he became the more toxic he found the lifestyle to be to himself and others. As a personal trainer to the rich and famous, he met a lot of amazing people but also people who were only out for themselves, who used him and discarded him once they had what they needed.
His last girlfriend had been the final straw. She had been so obsessed with getting the ‘Hollywood’ look that their relationship became transactional. If he couldn’t fit her in for a training session she would accuse him of cheating on her. She only cared about the way she looked and how he could help her achieve her goals and when he ended things with her, she had tried to kill herself. He had managed to save her but he was too shaken by the incident and decided L.A was no longer for him.
He wanted to get back to helping people, he was tired of seeing people exploit each other. He’d made a fortune getting actors to bulk up or slim down and now he wanted to put his knowledge to better use.
He bought a house in order to set up a treatment and rehabilitation center. He envisaged his main clients being the arthritic elderly folks from town, or moms who wanted to socialize and keep fit, women who wanted to learn self-defense, or teenagers who wanted to bulk up for a sport or to impress their crush. But he also wanted it to be a place that people came to for injury rehabilitation, like ex-service people or athletes.
Moving back home was a big change in lifestyle but he had never been about the L.A scene. He had been about helping people and he could do that anywhere. He wasn’t leaving anyone behind in L.A except for his friend and business partner Will Crawford. But Will had already visited Citrus Pines a few times and Beau knew that their friendship was strong enough and they would make the effort to see each other.
Beau loved his hometown and was pleased to be back, even though his parents had retired to the south of Florida last year to be closer to his sister. He knew plenty of people in town and everyone was like family.
He waved to Justine as he saw her car pulling up outside her office. She was a psychiatrist and the fiancée of his buddy, Citrus Pines’ deputy sheriff, Blake. But Beau didn’t stop to talk to Justine today; he was in the zone. That sweet spot where his muscles burned like hellfire and his adrenaline was sky high, pushing him on.
As the ground switched from concrete to dirt and pine needles, he pushed himself harder, drawing on reserves of strength to get him back to the cabin where he was currently staying. He ran across the empty parking lot of The Rusty Bucket Inn, the breeze caressing his sweat-slicked skin.Nearly there, keep going.When he hit the porch of his cabin the endorphin rush he got from running evaporated. The door was wide open andshewas there.
Taylor.
She was inside, bent over, emptying the little trash can by his bed. Her hips and ass swaying to the dirty beat of whatever song she was listening to. He stopped in the doorway, leaned against it and permitted himself to do the one thing he tried to do as little as possible: watch her. A mix of emotions rampaged through him. Anger, hurt, and regret mingled with lust.
Taylor shimmied her shoulders and stood upright, belting out the lyrics to the song. His throat ran dry when he realized it wasS&Mby Rihanna. She shrieked the words to the chorus, pelvic-thrusting her way across the room to her cleaning supplies and he tried to keep the smile from his face.
