STONE WEAR Hot Alpha Billionaire (Book 2) Jillian Ingram avoids all reminders of her past and denies her yearning to submit to another man…but when masterful Nick Colton promises to fulfill three of her deepest fantasies, it’s a temptation she can’t refuse. The truth isn’t an option for Nick Colton—not when revealing his corporate identity will cost him the chance to spend a weekend with the woman of his dreams and fulfill her sexual wishlist. He’s gambling that when it’s time to confess, he won’t lose her fragile trust and the gift of her surrender. Hi Readers! Stone Wear, the second book of the Hot Alpha Billionaire Series, will be released March, 2016. This story features Nick Colton, who had a brief supporting role in Hard Wear. Nick is a little rough around the edges and a more hardcore than Chase, but like Chase, Nick is protective, generous, and determined. Be advised there are M/f/M ménage scenes in Stone Wear, plus crops, clamps, and toys, etc., as the story revolves around a ‘sexual wish list.’ Nick and Jillian’s road to love is a little hard at times. You may need to buckle your cuffs. ♥
CHAPTER 1 Laketon, Washington He’d turned down a hot time with a sexy woman for a cold ride on a choppy lake. “You’re so screwed up,” Nick Colton grumbled under his breath. The woman had been cute, but for some reason she hadn’t done it for him—which is exactly why he should have accepted her offer of limo sex as he left a black-tie affair in Seattle this afternoon. There wasn’t a chance of anything developing into a damned “relationship.” After the hell he’d been through with his now ex-wife, a relationship was the last thing he wanted. Nick squinted at the thunderclouds filling the sky and shoved the throttle of his boat forward. The hull pounded through the turbulent water, but a little summer storm wouldn’t stop him from enjoying a weekend away from the city. He’d declined that pretty redhead’s proposition just so he could fly to Laketon before dark and get some time to himself. A bolt of lightning split the sky, illuminating the surface of the churning lake in grisly detail. The cruiser plowed into a sudden swell and Nick tightened his grip on the wheel to keep the nose up. Wind gusted over the bow and snapped the decorative pennant on the starboard side as he made a wide turn into a familiar bay. “Come on, baby, just a little farther and we’ll anchor someplace quiet.” If he could find “quiet” in this storm. One quick stop to make first. The matter of a small personal item he wanted from his lake house before his new tenants arrived. After that, two days relaxing on the boat. Sleep, swim, and sun—if the weather cleared. Another swell, bigger this time, slapped water over the side. He'd never seen a squall this size on Crystal Lake. Thunder pounded the sky, nearly drowning out a series of hammering thumps under the hull. Nearly. He’d hit something. The engine squealed as the object ground through the props. The wheel jerked in his hand. Then it went slack. Useless and unresponsive. The rudders. He yanked the throttle back, but a massive swell lifted the cruiser and hurled it forward…straight toward the dock behind his lake house. His curses whipped away in the wind. Wood splintered and snapped when the starboard side slammed against the pier. The cruiser lurched sideways, scraping along the planking as it plowed forward. Nails popped and boards spun through the air. Water sprayed over the cabin, drenching him. Another blaze of lightning flashed in the night and lit up the shoreline dead ahead. Fuck. There were a lot of rocks. ~~~ Nick woke up with one hell of a headache. The pain pounded across the top of his skull like a marching band on a cheap metal roof. He’d wrestled some badass hangovers since his divorce but this slugger topped the charts. Forcing open his gritty eyes, he blinked a few times and brought the world into focus. Morning sun glared through picture windows and made him wince, but he recognized the living room of his waterfront cabin―which as of today was leased to a summer tenant.
What was he doing inside the house? He rubbed a hand over his face and shuffled his memories into place. Everything was going fine last night, until he’d hit what had to be a submerged log and disabled his boat. Remembering what happened after he ran aground got dicey—the gap in his recall likely caused by the pint of whiskey he’d found amid the wreckage in the galley. With his boat on the beach and the cabin keys lost in the collision, he’d been stuck until morning. Deciding to make the best of it, he’d cranked up the cruiser’s stereo to celebrate surviving the crash, and the four month anniversary of his divorce. There’d been some dark days after his marriage, and he’d tried to drink his way through some of them, but when Chase Tanner, his business partner, needed time with his new girl, Nick got back on track. Although Nick was a silent partner in Soft Wear and Stone Wear, he usually drove the corporation as much as Chase. Equal investors, both on top of their game. Soft Wear jeans for submissives was a phenomenal success, and soon the company would launch Stone Wear, a new line of work jeans and boots for alpha males. Nick glanced around the interior of the lake house. A rental agency managed the place. He hadn’t stayed here in two years. Now, he was lying on the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blue blanket. Fucking amazing. The soft padding of bare feet across the hardwood floor, drew his attention, and he slanted an eye to the source. Oh hell, a woman. Not an ordinary woman either. No, this knockout had long blonde hair and the perfect little body of a Fredrick’s of Hollywood model. She sauntered by wearing a string bikini top and cutoff denim shorts. And she was barefoot, a sexy, simple look that hardened his cock. In fact, this one sweet feminine package could satisfy every one of his deepest fantasies. Something familiar about her nudged his brain, but he discarded the notion he knew her. There was no damn way he’d have forgotten meeting this girl. She was like a warm wet tongue swirling around his balls. Just the kind of woman a man couldn’t resist. She damn sure had Nick’s full attention. Clutching her coffee mug between delicate pink-polished fingertips, she strolled toward the French doors leading to the deck. He wondered if she noticed him. “Good morning,” he said, sitting up and raking a hand through his hair. He didn't have a shirt on, but at least he still wore the tux trousers he’d donned for a black-tie event...yesterday. Hell, he probably looked a little rough. His dream girl paused to murmur sleepy-voiced over her shoulder, “You might not think so when you see your boat.” She gave him a brief look of sympathy and then strolled outside. Oh yeah. He’d impressed her. She’d be swooning at his feet soon. He grabbed his wrinkled dress shirt off the floor and shrugged into it. “Hey, man. You’re awake.” A masculine hand waved a cup of coffee under Nick’s nose. “Here, you look like you could use this.” Distracted by the gentle sway of the woman’s denim-clad rear, Nick hadn’t heard the man approach. “Thanks.” Nick took the coffee from the bare-chested male who appeared to be in his late twenties. Trimmed in perfect layers, the guy's white-blond hair brushed his tanned shoulders, and new black denims fit his muscled body as if tailored. Unfortunately, if this was the little beauty’s lover, he wasn’t ugly, and he seemed nice. The man’s jeans were Stone Wear brand―which weren’t on the market yet. Only a few custom samples were available for marketing and promotion. What’s the story here?
The guy sat down on the sofa, so Nick stuck his hand across and introduced himself. “Nick Colton.” “Pleased to meet you, Nick. Ryan Rockefeller…no relation.” Ryan chuckled and returned the handshake with a megawatt grin. “Man, I bet you would have failed a breathalyzer test when we got you inside from the beach last night. We’d just arrived, so I don’t know how long you were out there. Other than being tanked, you seemed okay. How do you feel?” “Good. What time is it?” “About seven-thirty. We’re running late this morning.” Ryan indicated the fair-haired nymph outside. “Usually JT likes to start about seven.” “What does she like to start?” Ryan’s perfect smile widened. “Our sessions, man. She's a photographer. We’re doing a sample layout for a new line of jeans.” He pointed to his hip and the Stone Wear label on the back pocket. “I’ll introduce you to JT when you’ve had a chance to wake up.” Ryan’s face turned serious. “Nick, your boat is pretty banged-up. I think the battery is shot too. You left the music and the lights on. There wasn’t much juice left.” “I appreciate your help. Sorry for the disruption last night.” Nick knew about his boat. Right now he wanted to know about Ryan’s relationship with the stunning photographer. “It’s okay. Like I said, we just arrived. We heard you singing down on the beach. Man, don’t quit your day job.” Nick almost smiled but his head hurt too much. “I’m surprised you brought a stranger in.” “JT didn’t want you to hurt yourself out there. In any case, we were pretty sure you weren’t a criminal type in those tailored clothes and with a boat like that. Besides, you were hammered. You passed out the minute we got you to the couch. With me and Grayson here, JT was safe. Even if you did act up, Grayson’s a hazard.” “Grayson?” Ryan pointed outside to a tall, also shirtless, Native American-looking male who stood talking with JT. “The other model. There’s just the two of us. JT had hopes of getting another big name in the business, but the guy she wanted was overseas and booked solid.” “A big name?” “Oh, yeah. He’s so famous he goes by one name…Trey. Come to think of it, he looks a lot like you―all dark and brooding.” “Brooding, hmm.” Nick did smile at that. “So, are you and JT a couple?” “I wish! No, she’s my friend though.” “Is she with Grayson?” “Oh, man, you don’t waste time, but JT isn’t available.” “Is she married?” Grinning, Ryan shook his head “No, not married, but she doesn't get cozy with anyone while she’s working – and never with guys she’s working with or for. That’s all I’m saying ’cause she likes her privacy.” “Of course.” Nick set his empty cup down and got to his feet. He had a few stiff muscles but considering last night, minor aftereffects. He must have bumped his brain though, because after swearing off any woman who looked like more than a one-night stand, the photographer, JT, had him locked and loaded like a heat-seeking missile. Ryan stood also. “You probably want to get cleaned up.” He pointed toward an alcove down the hall. “The john is that way. The kitchen’s there.” He jerked his chin in the general direction of the breakfast bar. “Grab some more coffee, and come out to the deck when you’re ready. We have
to get a bunch of shots this morning but if you need help with the boat, I’m sure JT won’t mind me taking a break.” “Thanks, Ryan.” Nick’s gaze shifted back to the woman outside. She leaned over to arrange some props at the far end of the deck―boots, wood ax, and a work shirt draped over the rail. A breeze caressed a lock of her blonde hair away from her cheek. A little lower, her nipples were peaked beneath the bikini top. Nick took a deep breath. Ryan chuckled. “I’ll see you outside, man.” After Nick cleaned up, he returned to the living room and watched JT through the French doors. She arranged the shots, posing Ryan and Grayson to emphasize their toned bodies as well as the jeans. With limited resources, she seemed to be taking provocative and marketable pictures. But Nick stayed focused on her. She damned near glowed in the morning sun. If he had a type, she was it. His dream girl. At this point, walking away wasn’t an option. He wanted a taste. Just a little, with no entanglements. She might not be interested, but all his male instincts had shifted into pursue and capture mode. He pulled his phone from his pocket and hit a few keys. Chase Tanner picked up on the second ring. “Good morning, Nick.” “Morning, Tanner. Did you tell me about the new photographers bidding for spring contract?” “I planned to when you got back. There’s Roscoe Studios and let’s see…a JT Ingram. Ingram is a highly recommended independent who promises professional results. If the promo shots look good, Ingram might be our choice for the catalog. Where are you, Nick?” “At the lake house.” “Didn’t you rent that?” “Yes, but I had some navigational problems and ran into the place.” Chase paused. “Did you wreck your boat?” “Nothing serious. A submerged log took out the rudders, and there was a small collision with my dock. I’ll need to stay a few days to take care of it.” “You could call the marina.” “I’ll do that, too.” Nick hesitated and cleared his throat. “Tanner…thanks for watching my back during the divorce thing.” “You’d do the same. Besides, you brought my girl to me on my birthday, and you’ve been working nonstop since then to give me more time with her. I think we’re even.” Chase had fallen for a tawny-haired beauty right here in Laketon, of all places. When Chase couldn't leave Oak Harbor a few weeks ago, Nick had flown across the state and personally escorted Kali to Chase’s side. “How is she, Tanner?” “She’s a little tied up, right now.” Satisfaction filled his partner's voice. “A pretty sight, I’m sure. She’s a keeper.” “Oh, yeah.” For Chase, the admission spoke volumes. The man didn’t share much about his personal life. Neither did Nick, but they understood each other. “I’ll call my office and make sure the managers know I’m in Laketon. I can work from here too.” “You sound like your old self, Nick.” “I am.” “Why did you ask about the new photographers?” “JT Ingram―I think she rented my lake house.” “She? That isn't in my notes.” “Oh, yeah, definitely female.”
“Nice?” “Very.” “Colton.” Chase’s tone cautioned. “We might be working with her.” “I hope so. Don’t worry, Tanner, I won’t do anything to jeopardize the job.” “You never have. I trust you. Just make sure she’s what you need. There’s more at stake than a catalog shoot.” “Tanner, I’m good. I need to work―” Nick paused when he heard a soft feminine moan from Chase’s side of the connection. “Hell, are you touching your woman, now?” “I’ll talk to you later, Colton.” The line went dead and Nick smiled. Little Miss Benson from Laketon satisfied Chase in a way only the right girl could satisfy a man. Nick wished them happy. Personally though, he was done with all the romance and relationship crap. From now on, he only did temporary. All he needed was a woman underneath him who wanted hardcore sex for a few hours—or if she looked like this photographer, maybe a few days. Nothing more. He slipped his phone into his pocket and pushed open the French door. When he stepped out onto the deck, he drew in a deep breath of fresh country air. Hell, he needed to get out of the city more often. Glancing toward the lake, he assessed the damaged dock. Whole sections of boards were gone and one of the pilings tilted sideways. Fixable though. The boat…he scanned the grounded craft…maybe not. The rainstorm last night had brought in some swells that pushed it higher on the beach. He’d deal with the boat later. A few steps away, his new tenant leaned over the patio table jotting notes in a folder. As he approached, she straightened and regarded him with gorgeous green eyes. Mesmerizing eyes. He smiled. “I understand you sent out the cavalry last night. I apologize for the inconvenience. My name’s Nick Colton.” Not the slightest flicker of recognition crossed her features and Nick realized she didn’t know his connection to Stone Wear, or the lake house. She nodded. “Hello, Mr. Colton. I’m Jillian Ingram. You’re lucky that you weren’t hurt last night. Drinking and crashing your boat. Trespassing on private property. I'm thankful you’re okay, but honestly, you deserve to look as bad as you do.” Ouch. “You’re right, Miss Ingram. I had no business camping on your beach. However, a malfunction caused the crash. I started drinking after I ran aground.” She didn’t believe him. He could see it in her reserved expression. Why should she? Nick couldn’t prove when he'd started drinking. He’d probably stank of whiskey by the time her boys shouldered him inside. “I see.” She kept her voice impartial. “Unfortunately this is a rental property, Mr. Colton. The dock looked intact when the agency sent a picture last week. I’ll need to tell them about the damage.” She hesitated. “However, I can honestly say it was damaged when we got here last night. So it could have been the storm.” JT Ingram was trying to let him off the hook. She had a kind heart. Beautiful inside and out. Nick nodded. “Call the agency and mention you have someone to repair the damage. I’ll take full responsibility—and when they authorize the repairs, I’ll fix the dock for you.” “Are you a carpenter?” Her eyes swept down over his wrinkled shirt and black slacks, clearly doubting he was capable of useful labor. If she only knew. Growing up in the country he’d learned the meaning of physical work.
He smiled. “I’ll fix the dock, and you’ll get a break in your rent for saving the owner money.” “Mr. Colton, I’m sure there are other repairmen. You must have better things to do, like patching your boat.” “I’ll take care of that too. It won’t take more than a couple of days. I'll take care of everything.” He'd be damned if he could walk away from a woman who inspired him like this. His brain shifted to overdrive thinking of ways he could stay close to her. Since she didn't get involved with men she worked with, or for, he wouldn't tell her he owned Stone Wear. Or the house she'd just rented. Or the dock he'd just agreed to fix. At least not yet. “I’m not sure, Mr. Colton,” she hedged. Roger that, loud and clear. “I'll make it work, trust me.” “Come on JT.” Ryan came over. “Gray and I could use some help hauling the gear up to that remote shoot you want to do in the mountains tomorrow. Nick might be handy.” She eyed Nick like he was the Big Bad Wolf, and yeah, he felt like it too. Nick grinned. “This is where I promise I don’t bite much.”
CHAPTER 2 When the dark-haired stranger walked out on the deck this morning, Jill’s body tingled with pure feminine awareness. Her uninvited visitor appeared about thirty-five. In good shape, if a little worse for wear. His dark hair was tousled and stubble shadowed his strong jaw. Even dressed in the wrinkled white shirt and tux trousers, he had sex appeal. She’d been aware of his magnetism yesterday when Gray and Ryan had shouldered him inside, but none of it mattered. She could not afford the complication now. She had a lot of work to do and only a few short days with Gray and Ryan. As a photographer, she’d built up a strong immunity to handsome men and she was an excellent judge of character. Last night, based on his tailored clothes, drunkenness, and negligent treatment of a luxury boat, she'd pegged Nick Colton as a reckless, rich boy…but this morning her first impression didn’t fit the straight, intelligent man taking responsibility for his actions and offering to fix things. Perhaps, despite some personal red flags, Mr. Colton possessed at least some redeeming qualities. He didn’t broadcast ego or conceit like some of the cover boys she worked with, so there might be more to him than packaging and expensive taste in toys. A stranger in the house still made her nervous, but with Ryan and Grayson around he’d have to be an idiot to cause trouble. She supposed letting Nick Colton stay here a day or two wouldn't hurt—just while he repaired his boat and the dock. There were no lodgings close to the lake house, and accommodations in the outlying areas would be difficult to get to, if there were rooms available at all. This man had been in an accident yesterday. She couldn’t kick him out. “Of course, stay if you need to, Mr. Colton. A day or two, until the dock is fixed. The only unused bedroom is in the loft, but you’re welcome to it.” He nodded. “That’s good, thanks. I’ll try to make myself useful.” Somehow, she sensed he usually did. The careless playboy image wasn’t fitting this morning. Of course, a strong and resolute character made him more appealing to her, but she wouldn't admit to more than a new respect for him. On a professional level, she could appreciate his magnetism. She'd even admit to a strong appreciation, but she refused to think it was anything like the attraction she’d experienced with Jacob. Jacob. Even after all this time, she thought of him. She stood up, wishing for a moment to collect herself. “Okay, Mr. Colton. I’ll call the rental agency and let you know what they say. Then I have to work.” Mr. Colton didn’t move. He glanced down to her cell phone on the patio table. “I’ll wait while you make the call. Might as well get it done, Ms. Ingram.” He had a point. She tamped down a little tremor of response to his authority and picked up her phone. While it connected, Ryan and Grayson reclined in their chairs watching the exchange. The rental agent answered and Jill spoke with more composure than she felt. “Hi, this is JT Ingram… Yes, very good, thank you. I called to let you know about some damage last night from the storm … No, nothing serious. The dock is a little torn up… No, I didn’t actually see how it happened. We weren’t home at the time … No, we don’t have a boat, so it isn’t a problem. Coincidentally, I might know somebody who could fix it … Yes, if the owner approves …I will … bye.” Mr. Colton raised a sable brow. “Well?”
She set her phone on the patio table. “They’re going to call the owner and―” Her gaze snapped down to his vibrating pocket. “You have a call, Mr. Colton.” He nodded but didn’t move to answer it. Instead he tipped his head toward the dock and his boat. “I’ll go down and take a look at the damage. If you need anything, let me know.” “Yes, thank you.” She watched him walk away, sensing a subtle shift of power. After one night, he seemed to be taking charge. Arousal whispered and she shivered, as if a man’s fingers had traced her skin. While comfortable in her swimsuit top and cutoffs with friends like Gray and Ryan, her skimpy summer outfit left her too exposed around Nick Colton. Turning to Gray she said, “I think I need to put more clothes on. We’ll start in a few minutes, okay?” Her guys nodded. They knew her well enough―Gray especially―to guess why a man like Nick Colton might change the status quo. At the far end of the deck, a second set of French doors led to her bedroom. She went inside to forage through her suitcase, sighing as she drew out a silky blue camisole and slipped it on. It wasn’t much but it made her feel a little less vulnerable with her midriff covered. Walking back out to the deck, it dawned on her that other than a few minutes ago, she hadn’t used her phone since yesterday. This place―the house, the lake, the quiet community of Laketon―cast a spell of peacefulness. Her assistant, Paige, suggested the location for a preliminary layout for this new line of men's apparel. If Jill got the contract, she’d have the luxury of a little vacation here. No crowds, no traffic, no worries. Until then, she needed to focus. This job could potentially secure a happy future. Gratitude warmed her heart that Ryan and Gray had come through for her on such short notice. They'd hired a plane to fly them to the little airstrip outside of Laketon, and Jill had driven up from Portland to meet them and bring them to the lake house. She’d hoped to get one more top-name model, but the internationally famous ‘Trey’ hadn’t been available. Her guys were two of the best though, and she'd get the Stone Wear people to take notice. This job meant more than money. She’d stepped out of her isolated world of self-denial in order to compete for the Stone Wear contract. It meant working for a great company with likeminded people and products she believed in. Something she hadn’t done in six years. She crossed the deck to the patio table and sat in a chair next to Grayson. Ryan was down on the beach examining the hull of the wrecked boat. Nick Colton stood nearby talking on his cell. During the time she’d been inside, he’d changed into some faded jeans and a white tee, which he must have had on the boat. Noting the cordless shaver he held loosely by his side, it looked like he planned to shave the dark shadow from his jaw once he got off the phone. Mr. Colton wasn’t your average tall, dark, and handsome. On an instinctual level, she recognized his dominance in how he moved and spoke and from the confidence shimmering in his steel-blue eyes. Other than Grayson, who was like a brother to her, she’d never sensed that kind of power in a man. Not since Jacob—a dominant, through and through. He had been the only man strong enough to provide the level of control she needed. Jacob had understood the timid, uncertain girl, as well as the passionate woman. Men like that were rare, and although she sensed Nick Colton might be one of them, twice in a lifetime didn’t happen for most people. Which, for her, was a good thing. She never wanted to love someone like she’d loved Jacob. Remember that, Jillian. She shifted her thoughts back to business. “Gray, are you ready?” Her models would only be here for a few days. She needed to take a lot of pictures during that time, and they needed to be the best she’d ever done. She couldn't let Nick Colton distract her.
Gray stood. “I’m here for you, Jill.” “I know, Gray, thank you.” ~~~ After Nick assessed the damaged pier, he made a call to the manager of the local buildingsupply store. “Brian? It’s Nick Colton.” “Hey, Nick, how are you? It’s been a couple of years, hasn’t it?” “Work keeps me busy.” “Sure, it’s hard to get away. I heard you had some woman trouble, too.” “A divorce, yes.” Nick grimaced. News traveled. “Brian, I’m spending a few days at the lake, and I need to make some repairs to the house. Can you send some lumber out?” “Yeah, sure buddy, give me a list and I’ll have it delivered.” Nick told him what tools and lumber he needed. “Yeah, we’ve got that, no problem. Hey, I know you usually fly in. Do you need some ground transportation while you’re on vacation?” “No, that’s all right. Just send the wood and supplies.” “Okay, sure. Jenna will drive out with the new delivery man to show him how to get there. Is tomorrow soon enough?” “Yes, perfect. Thanks, Brian.” Nick called the owner of the marina next. Rob answered personally and Nick explained about the cruiser. Rob snorted. “Yeah, that was a helluva squall. There were a few boats in trouble. Don’t worry, my new mechanic can fix anything. I’ll send Rocky out there after lunch to check the damage. Will that work?” “Sounds good. Thank you.” Before phoning the rental agency, Nick stepped away from Ryan and walked down the beach out of earshot. When the call connected, the slightly flustered agent answered, “Oh, Mr. Colton, I’ve just had some bad news from your new tenant, JT Ingram—” “It’s all right, Mrs. Donnelly. I’m in Laketon today. Why don’t I take care of it?” “Oh, wonderful!” Relief saturated her words. She rattled off Jillian’s phone number. “Well, I’ll just leave it to you then.” “Don’t worry about anything.” A pang of warmth squeezed Nick’s chest that Jill hadn’t told the agent he’d done the damage in the first place. The beautiful photographer had tried to shield him. An unnecessary loyalty, but a loyalty still, and it impressed him. Glancing to the deck, he noted Grayson sitting next to her. They had their heads bent together in conversation. Her silky blonde tresses contrasted beside the model’s long black hair. Nick watched for signs of anything beyond friendship and professional courtesy. Ryan obviously knew the boundaries, but Grayson looked like a man unhampered by conventional rules. Nick sensed the model's protectiveness, but he couldn’t gauge Grayson’s personal involvement with Ms. Ingram. Nick definitely wanted to know. He wanted to find out if someone had a claim on her, and he wanted to kick himself for caring. Ryan walked up, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth as he glanced from Nick back to the boat. “Except for the hole in the hull, she's a swanky cruiser, for sure. Did you get a hold of the marina?” Nick nodded. “Someone should be here soon. I’ll work on the dock and pull up the ruined boards today. The new lumber and tools will be here by tomorrow.”
A serious expression crossed Ryan’s face and he drew a weighty breath. “You seem like a smart guy, Nick. I believe you when you say you weren’t drinking before the accident.” Which meant Jill didn’t believe him. Nick acknowledged with a tip of his head. “The weather came up fast, and it was dark. A submerged log took out the rudders. The collision was unavoidable—but no one was hurt and that’s the important thing.” Nick’s headache had vanished, his focus and determination returned. “I appreciate JT letting me stay and make repairs.” Ryan glanced toward the house. “Well, it looks like they’re ready to rock and roll now. We’re going to keep breaks to a minimum and get the maximum cache of pics to choose from, but I’ll come down later and help you.” He paused and seemed to come to a decision. “I think you like her, Nick, so I’ll tell you. She needs to get this Stone Wear contract. Unfortunately, by the time she heard about it, most of her first-string talent had other bookings. Gray and I included. We knew she’d go for it anyway and didn’t want her using bit players for something big, so we backed out of our other obligations. We wanted to be here for her, because we're friends, you know?” Nick nodded. While aware of the warning, he appreciated the model’s confidence. Ryan went on. “Gray’s known her since they were kids, and between us, we’ll do everything we can to make this good. JT doesn’t need complications. She needs a little thermal updraft to fly right now. This job means a lot to her… a lot.” “I understand.” Ryan smiled, satisfied. His carefree attitude restored. “You’ll be here for lunch, right?” “Yes.” “Great, man. Gotta go.” Nick waited until Ryan jogged up the beach before he pulled out his phone again. He had one more call to make—to his brother. Then he’d work on the pier. Nick dredged up his carpentry skills and started the repairs, but every so often he’d glance toward the house to watch Jill snap pictures and circle around the models. They worked for hours without a break. When he noticed them moving equipment down to the beach, he went over to help Gray and Ryan set up props. The two men were regular guys, completely unpretentious behind the camera, but in front of the lens, they were professionals―sleek, muscled, and poised. Nick knew women would love them and buy Stone Wear jeans for their own men. Designed with double stitching and rivets for the outdoor working man, Stone Wear jeans were as distinctive as Hard Wear. Gray and Ryan were a perfect fit for the image. Trey, the third model Jill wanted, was also a good fit. She had first-class instincts for what would work. About eleven o’clock, Nick finished removing the damaged planking and looked down the pier to see his dream girl walking toward him, carrying a bottle of water. Gray was on the back deck, leaning against the railing and gazing toward the lake, while Ryan prowled back and forth with his phone pointed at the sky, trying to catch Laketon's elusive cell reception. As Jill neared, Nick got to his feet and pulled off his work gloves. “You’ve been at work for hours, Mr. Colton.” She offered him the water and a soft smile. “I thought you might be thirsty. If you’re hungry, there are some sandwiches inside on the bar.” He wiped his arm across his brow, took the water and smiled down at her. “Perfect.” With the bottle in one hand, he gently held her elbow with the other and turned her toward a shaded bench
a few yards up the beach. She looked a little tired. “Have you had anything yet?” He motioned her to sit. “No, I’ll eat something later.” Her gaze scanned the busted dock and his boat. He sat down and patted the place next to him. “After it’s fixed, I’ll take you out.” “A cruise on the lake?” For a split second, her eyes lit with interest, but she shook her head. “Thank you, but—” “I can arrange something else. I’ll take you anywhere you’d like.” She glanced toward the house, to where Gray stood on the deck. Nick patted the bench again. “They’ll be all right. How about dinner?” “No, I’m sorry, I can’t.” She sat, barely, on the bench beside him. “Because I’m a disruptive, ill-dressed boat wrecker?” She smiled a little and looked away. She probably had thought that, but at the same time, she seemed truly sorry to refuse him. She did though, however kindly. “No … although your outfit is much improved now.” “I’m making progress. Brunch?” “I’m sorry. I don’t socialize when I’m working.” “Afterward?” She shook her head. “Well, no…not then either.” A troubled expression clouded her features and she started to get up. “Stay.” Nick took a chance and held her arm with a gentle but firm hand. Her manner seemed soft, sweetly feminine, and he hoped receptive to command. She glanced down to where he touched her, then back to his face, assessing him in a new way. Anyone who knew about Stone Wear, knew about dominant males. Perhaps she recognized something in his resolve because she settled back onto the bench. He nodded, pleased that his small control had bought her attention. “All right, when your boys have gone home, we’ll work on afterward.” Clearly, something haunted this woman. He thought he'd learned his lesson about damsels in distress, but suddenly he wanted to wrestle a few demons for her. He let it go, for now, and changed the topic. “I'm curious, what does the T in ‘JT’ stand for?” “It’s a nickname.” Her eyes shuttered secrets. “I don’t talk about it.” “Okay, we’ll wait, but you will—there are several things I want to discuss with you.” He grinned. “Which leads me to the sleeping arrangements tonight.” Humor smoothed her expression. “You’re very confident, for a disruptive, slightly betterdressed boat wrecker, but we each have our own bedroom. Yours is in the loft.” Although she smiled again, her stiff posture and the way she sat warily on the edge of the bench, warned him she was ready to bolt. “The couch was comfortable.” “I didn’t think you noticed.” Referring to his level of intoxication. He shrugged. “A little celebration that I'd survived.” “The boat crash?” “My divorce.” Her eyes filled with sympathy. “Oh, I’m sorry. I understand now why you might have wanted a few drinks.” “You’re divorced too? “I’m widowed.” She stood up, edging away, appearing uncomfortable and haunted again.
He stood, also. Wanting her to stay, he shifted his body in front of her. “You miss him that much?” “It’s been six years since he died. I shouldn’t miss him.” She didn’t say so much anymore. It seemed like she didn’t want to miss him at all. Ms. Ingram not only had a soft heart, but a deeply wounded one―and he did not want to get involved with another emotional train wreck. He’d just been through that. Her pink, moist tongue traced her bottom lip, and the record-setting arousal she inspired, jolted through him again. “How long were you married?” He mentally kicked himself for engaging. “Eight years. You?” “Ten months.” “Months?” Her lips parted, incredulous, and then her gaze narrowed with distrust. He’d lost a little ground by sounding so impermanent. He read it in her eyes―drunk, reckless, unreliable, and possibly faithless. He could understand how she might think that. It shouldn't matter. “Yes,” he said, honestly. She frowned and lowered her head, a polite attempt to hide her disenchantment. Over her shoulder, he noted a boat approaching. As it neared, he recognized the little outboard from Crystal Lake Marina. The mechanic had never met Nick but he might know of him and his connection to Stone Wear. Hell. The last thing Nick wanted was to give this woman another reason to put up roadblocks between them. Right now, there were two things he couldn’t be honest about: Stone Wear and owning the lake house. If Jill found out he was her landlord or soon-to-be employer, she would use the information to reject him. Nick had to prevent that. Against all his better judgment and common sense, he wanted to spend time with her. Tipping her chin up, he met her gaze. “I’d like to talk to you. I’ll come to the house in a few minutes for lunch, all right? She heard the approaching boat and turned toward the lake. “Lunch is fine, but you want more than conversation.” She didn’t leave though, or meet his eyes. Her gaze stayed fixed on Rocky as he tied his boat up to the good side of the pier. “Did they say they could fix it?” “You’re right, I want more―and yes, they can.” He had to go and greet Rocky. “Stay here. I’ll take care of this.” Amazingly, she stayed. For about a second. Then she turned and walked back to the house. ~~~ Rocky strode down the pier with a brisk, efficient stride. “Hello, Mr. Colton. That was a terrible storm—came out of nowhere.” He smiled as he shook Nick’s hand. “Sorry to hear you got caught in it. Did one of those monster swells push you up on the rocks?” “A submerged log wiped out the rudders.” Nick returned the handshake with a wry smile. “One of those monster swells took over from there.” “You’re a good skipper; you still made it to shore. A few folks lost their boats, but at least there were no serious injuries.” The mechanic walked with Nick to the cruiser, and then assessed the long gouges in the fiberglass. “The hull’s been compromised in a couple of places, but I can put a temporary patch on those, enough to get her to the marina for a permanent fix.” “Good news. Thanks.” “It will take a couple of days to cure before we can move her.”
“That's fine.” Nick didn't mind waiting. “The battery may need a jump before she starts.” “No problem.” Rocky set down his tool case. “Do you want help with that patch?” “Nope. It’s a one-man job, but thanks.” Ten minutes later, he wiped his hands and stood up smiling. “Okay, once that sets up, it should hold while we tow her across the lake. I’ll bring my assistant to help get her back in the water. All the repairs can be done at my shop.” Rocky squinted at the house. “Nice place. On vacation for a while?” “More of a work retreat.” Nick shook the man’s hand and turned toward the dock. “Thank you for coming out. Give me a call before you come back for the boat, so I can meet you here.” “Sure, will do, Mr. Colton.” After Rocky left, Nick retrieved his laptop and a few other things from the cruiser. He stowed his stuff in the lake house loft, beside one of the twin beds, then he went downstairs to the kitchen where Ryan and Grayson sat at the table finishing their lunch. Jill was conspicuously absent. “Hey, Nick, have a seat. There's more food here.” Ryan smiled and gestured toward an empty seat. Sandwiches and salad were set out on the counter. “Looks good. Thanks.” Nick put some food on his plate and settled into a chair across from Grayson. The model offered a clipped nod in greeting. Ryan grabbed another half a sandwich. “What did the mechanic say about your boat?” “He patched the hull.” Nick drank a swallow of water. “It will take a couple days before the seal sets and is watertight.” “So you'll be staying here until then.” Grayson's impenetrable dark eyes bored into him. “Unless Ms. Ingram objects.” Nick knew he'd have to contend with Grayson's proprietary attitude but the man didn’t intimidate him. He might as well find out the model’s claim on the lovely photographer. “What about you, Mr. North, do you object?” Grayson shook his head, his lips firming into a tight line. “At this point, no.” “You're good friends with her?” “Yes. Fourteen years.” “Is that how you met, modeling for her? You both must have been very young.” “Yes, teenagers. JT's husband gave me my first job.” “So, she's like a sister?” Ryan cleared his throat and stood. “Hey, I hate to break up this heart-to-heart, but I need to change and set up for the next layout. What about you, Gray?” Ryan grinned. “And Nick, if you have a chance, we might need your help this afternoon arranging equipment and props again.” “Sure.” Nick raised a brow at Grayson. “We can talk later.” Grayson nodded. “Bet on it.” After the models left the kitchen, Nick finished his lunch and went up to the loft. His senses tingled, excited by the knowledge he would be here with her, in his house, at least for a couple of days. He liked the arrangement. It tripped all his triggers. He liked getting to know her this way... letting her get to know him without any preconceived ideas. Since his success with Soft Wear, he could never be sure if a woman was attracted to his BDSM lifestyle or his bank account. Not that he minded taking care of a girl, he loved having the resources to do it, but trying to unmask the true subbies from the users and pretenders got tiresome. Only one type of woman did it for him: an honest sexual submissive.
Nick glanced past the loft balcony and down into the empty great room. He wondered if Jill had so much work that she didn't stop for lunch, or if she ate earlier, or if she'd stayed out of the kitchen to avoid him. He had a feeling it might be a little of everything. The chemistry of arousal sparked and sizzled between them. He liked the sexual awareness in her eyes, and that she noticed him as a man. She knew he wanted to sleep with her. Hell, he wanted to do a whole lot more than that. He imagined her trim little body tied up, or down, clamped and whipped, his cock pushing between her thighs and‌ yeah. This girl just did it for him. Considering she wanted to work for Stone Wear, he suspected she knew about BDSM. He wanted to see if she responded favorably to a dominant male. All his instincts said she would.
CHAPTER 3 Jill slipped into a long-sleeved shirt before she went outside that afternoon. Not because she was cold, but to make herself less susceptible to Nick Colton. The French doors in her bedroom opened directly onto the deck, which was handy if a person wanted to avoid the main room and kitchen. Her stomach growled again, protesting a missed breakfast and lunch. Coward! She felt like a gauche debutant on a first date, too nervous to eat around a goodlooking man. She didn't want Nick Colton to affect her. She especially didn't want him to notice that he did. Grayson knew. She saw it in his dark, perceptive eyes. He'd been her friend for all of her adult life. She’d been eighteen and newly married when her photographer husband brought Grayson North home. The sixteen-year-old, part-Cherokee orphan had run away to look for work in Portland. Jacob knew Gray's potential and sent some professional pictures to a modeling agency. He’d also found Gray’s legal guardians and asked them to sign a release. Surprisingly, they’d done it, and Gray stayed with Jill and Jacob until he turned eighteen. Gray never forgot the people who helped him and after Jacob died, Gray stayed close, orbiting her world and watching out for her. An underlying attraction simmered in their relationship, but neither of them would ever act on it. They were family. Yet Gray, more than most people, knew how much a powerful, confident man like Nick Colton would resonate with her. A nervous chill racked her body. A vulnerability she’d thought herself armored against, rippled inside, both exciting and frightening. Nick Colton’s dominant personality was seducing her, and she had to stop it. She had to stop him. She picked up her phone and studied her contact list. With her resistance running low, Nick might break down her defenses after her models left. Reinforcement, in the form of another man, is what she needed. Her thumb hovered over the name of someone who could help diffuse the situation. Before she could change her mind, she pressed the button and left a message on his voicemail. Her knees wobbled a bit afterward, but making the call gave her a sense she’d regained a small measure of control over her fate. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at this whole, silly situation. Thinking about Nick Colton was pointless. She knew nothing about him. He knew nothing about her. If possible, she would keep it that way. She didn’t want a relationship and she never wanted to fall in love again. Admittedly, she got lonely at times. The man she’d just called was someone she’d met a few months ago—an easy, temporary Dom who provided sensual conversation and physical contact. He wasn’t severe, controlling, or possessive. Which suited her fine, because a hardcore Dom might touch her heart as much as her body, and she didn’t want any deep attachments. Emotions hurt and got messy. She couldn't afford that. Especially now. She had work to do. Ignoring Nick Colton was the only way. Besides, just because he was alpha, didn’t mean he was an experienced Dom. He probably didn't know the proper way to buckle a cuff or dispense a good flogging. Which is what she told herself the rest of the afternoon as she avoided eye contact with him. She did her work and kept her camera lens on Ryan and Gray. The pictures clicked like magic, renewing the optimism she had about this job. Her future lay with Stone Wear. She could feel it.
Around seven p.m., after long hours in the afternoon sun, the adrenaline of a successful photo shoot dropped out from under her like a trap door and she wobbled with exhaustion. And hunger. Not a foreign feeling, since she’d spent years intentionally starving while working as a model. Jacob had hated it so much he’d taught her how to work behind a camera instead of in front of it. By then though, eating less had become subliminally ingrained and even after she started her photography business, she maintained a healthy diet and exercised without thinking about it. The payoff was feeling great and being comfortable in her clothes. Or no clothes at all. She glanced at Ryan and Gray. Her guys never complained but they were ready for a break too. She smiled. “Okay, I've got enough. Thank you. You’re both troopers.” Ryan grinned. “Man, JT, about time. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to be the wuss and beg for mercy.” He immediately started gathering props. “I might have time for a swim before dinner.” Gray packed up her camera kit and held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll help with the food. Since it's too damned hot to cook, how about a big salad and some of that homemade bread Paige packed for you?” “Sounds perfect.” She glanced at the dock where Nick Colton had apparently finished for the day. After he'd found some tools on his boat and around the house, he'd stayed busy working on the pier. He’d donned a baseball cap and taken his t-shirt off earlier. Jill had noticed. She should have been impervious to his tight abs and muscled chest, but this afternoon she’d caught herself casting covert peeks whenever he walked past carrying broken boards to a stack he made by the driveway. He'd accomplished a lot today and proved himself a hard worker. As he pulled off his gloves, he glanced up and met her eyes. Good manners required she include him in their dinner plans. All she had to do was ignore the sexual awareness shimmering in his smoky blue gaze…so she could eat. Her tummy growled, protesting the day-long fast. Except for Jacob, she’d never been this attracted to a man, but it couldn’t have happened at a worse time. She turned to Gray and whispered, “He's probably hungry, but I'm afraid of being too close to him.” Gray frowned. “You invited him to stay, Jillian.” Arms full, Ryan started toward the house and called over his shoulder, “Yeah, JT. He’s got to eat.” “Ask yourself why you let him stay, Jillian.” Gray turned and followed Ryan. Jill’s eyes remained locked with Nick’s as he strode across the sand to her. A light sheen of perspiration glistened on his muscled chest, luring her, tempting her to trace her fingers over the smooth skin. Instead she stepped back out of arms reach. “We’re just going to have salad and bread for dinner. Will that be okay?” He nodded. “I need a shower first.” “All right.” Oh, god. She wanted to watch…and touch. She swallowed. “I’ll set a place for you. Come when you’re ready.” “I’ll do that.” His lips quirked, while his eyes sent a message that had little to do with food. A blush warmed her cheeks, but she didn't respond to the double entendre. “Okay, I’ll see you later then.” She hurried for the safety of her room, while her mind spun off imagining him above her, his face tight with passion while his body pinned her to the bed. Jillian get a grip! Don’t let him rattle you. The temptation of Nick Colton would be over in forty-eight hours or less. She could resist him for that long. No problem.
~~~ “You’re avoiding me.” Nick stood in the darkened living room, gazing out the picture window. Jill's silhouette reflected on the glass, backlit by the hall light as she crept toward the kitchen. Her head jerked in his direction, and she slapped a hand to her chest. “You scared me!” “I must. You’ve taken serious evasive measures. I showered in the boat and fifteen minutes later, when I came inside, you’d already retreated to your room.” She drew herself up. Nick imagined a porcupine bristling with quills. “Listen to me, Mr. Colton, I’ve been gracious letting you stay here, but you have no right to question me or my whereabouts.” “I’d like to be the man who does have the right.” He turned to face her. “I'd like to be the man who controls you, the man you surrender to.” She shook her head and looked away. “No one controls me now.” A few steps brought him close enough to tip her head toward him. “But someone did. Someone you called Sir. Am I right?” Her breathy little sound of surprise made his cock jerk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Yes, you do. Let’s not play that game. You’re taking pictures for Stone Wear, a company that makes clothes for dominant men. Men who believe in, or practice BDSM…at least in their sexual life. You know exactly what I’m talking about and you know I’m one of those men. Or do you want to deny that too?” She tried to shift away. “Why are we having this conversation?” He cupped his hand on her cheek to keep her still. “Why are you so nervous about it?” “I’m not nervous.” She backed up. “Yes, nervous, and you’re avoiding me. Why?” He took a step closer and she bolted, spinning away and retreating to the kitchen. She flicked on every light she could find and went to the fridge. He stood in the doorway, watching her while she poured some skim milk into a cup and went to the microwave. “Do you usually have trouble sleeping?” “It’s been worse the last two days.” Because of him? “Did you eat anything tonight?” “No.” She pulled the warm milk out of the oven and sipped. “Today?” She shook her head. “I’ll make you a sandwich.” When she started to decline, he added, “I won’t touch you.” She squinted at him. “Promise?” Skeptical little thing. “Yes, I promise to fix you a sandwich and not touch you...tonight. Unless you swoon into my arms.” She chuckled. “I’m not the swooning type.” “Good, remember that after you’ve tasted the sandwich I make you.” He went to the fridge and pulled out the needed items. Nick knew he could put together a good sandwich, among other things. “Why don’t you sit at the table and I’ll bring it to you.” “Thanks.” She added some more milk to her cup, heated it in the microwave again and sat at the kitchen table. Nick made a half a sandwich for himself. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable eating alone. He wanted a chance to talk and get to know her, and she needed to relax before she’d open
up to him. In a couple of days, he'd have the dock and boat fixed, so he didn’t have much time to win her over. “Here you go.” He put the small dinner plate in front of her, then settled himself across the table with his own snack. “No swooning now.” She smiled and took a bite. “Mmm.” Her eyes rounded with surprise as she chewed and swallowed. “This is good. I thought you meant I’d faint because it’s awful.” She ate some more. “See, I’m not all bad.” He pushed his sandwich around on his plate. “I’m sure you’re not, but you have to admit finding a drunk, rain-soaked man outside is unusual. What were you doing out on the lake by yourself and dressed in a tux?” “I’m a businessman who needed a little downtime. Some cancelled appointments gave me the opportunity to spend a couple of days on the boat. I left a black-tie affair in Seattle, went straight to the airport and made my way to the Laketon marina, where I keep my boat. I was out on the lake when the storm blew in, and I hit a submerged log. You know the rest.” “So you live in Seattle?” “Yes, most of the time. I prefer the country though. Where do you live?” “Portland, but I travel a lot for work.” “Have you always been a photographer?” “I can’t imagine doing anything else.” “A smooth evasion. All right, then tell me about your insomnia.” “I know why you’re doing this.” Her gaze lowered. “And it won’t work.” “Why?” She sighed. “You’re being attentive because you want sex—and it won’t work because I’m me. I have ethics about becoming involved with anyone while I’m on the job, even if I’m attracted to them.” “So you’re attracted to me?” “I didn’t say that.” “You think I’m ugly?” “I didn’t say that, either.” She grinned and popped the last bite of sandwich into her mouth. “Okay, I pass visuals. What don't you like then?” She drank some milk and pushed her plate aside. “It doesn't matter what I think about you.” “I don't believe that any more than you do.” Nick folded his arms on the edge of the table. “My backrubs are better than my sandwiches.” “I won't get involved with you.” Her pretty pink lips curled into another smile, and she tilted her head curiously. “Backrubs?” “Oh, yeah…but I'd have to touch you.” “Only the back?” “That's why it's called a backrub.” “You promise?” “Yes.” “What do you want in exchange for a twenty minute backrub?” “Other than a little conversation, the first one's free.” “I won't have sex with you, no matter how good it is.” “I'll have you moaning in pleasure.” She smiled. “I doubt it. I rarely moan.” “Will you talk with me?” “Maybe, but I won't moan with pleasure.”
“Do you scream?” She shut down, her face blank. “I think it’s time I went to bed. Good night, Mr. Colton.” When she pushed to her feet, he wanted to grab her and pull her into his arms, but he’d promised not to touch. “Just like that?” “She said goodnight, Colton.” Grayson stepped into the kitchen. He let her scurry by then blocked the doorway. Nick stood and faced Grayson. “Are you protecting her for her sake, or yours?” Grayson crossed his arms over his chest. “Does it matter?” “To me it does.” Nick nodded. “If you're doing it for her sake, we'll talk.” “And if I'm doing to have her for myself?” “There's not much we need to say to each other. We're rivals, and in this modern age, the decision will be hers. I won't do anything she doesn't want.” “That's all I needed to hear.” Grayson turned back toward the bedrooms. “Goodnight.” Nick pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Yeah, that's all I needed to hear, too.”
♂♀
Thank you for reading the excerpt for Stone Wear. If you would like to purchase a copy go to: http://www.trollriverpub.com/stone-wear-excerpt.html