I understand that, due to my departure with EC, and the publishing delays that resulted, it's been quite a wait for those of you who have been patiently waiting to read Corrupted Desire (title & sub-genre changed).
In light of the delays I have decided to release the first chapter, for those who are interested in getting a sneak peek.
Corrupted Desire is a Romantic Suspense with a most-definite darker side. It's not all lovey-lovey, but make no mistake, there's plenty of that going on between my hero & heroine. The only problem is that there's someone lurking in the background, who seeks to destroy my heroine...and anyone who happens to get in his way. No matter the cost.
Here, in this first chapter, you will get a little taste of who he is - and his obsession.
Please remember that I am currently revising & editing, so there will likely be many changes in the final manuscript. This preview is intended only to give you an idea of what's to come - and any potential publishers a brief on Samantha and Richard's story, as well as my style of writing.
As of yet, I do not have a publishing home for Corrupted Desire; I will not be sending it to publishers until I have revisions completed and a finalized copy. Unfortunately, the previous edits had drastically changed the story, taking it in a direction I did not like. Having become so invested in these particular characters, I felt that I had no choice but to start over and write their story, they way it was meant to be.
So, here it is. I hope you enjoy the first chapter of Corrupted Desire!
Please, feel free to comment below - I would love to hear what you think - and feel free to share it with your friends and family!
As always, a huge thank you goes out to those of you whom have supported me and my writing! Your support means the world to me and, as I progress through my career, I will always remember those who were there, with their encouragements, from the start!
*hugs*
Shelbie =)
Contains adult language & scenes - not appropriate for younger viewers.
The following contains copyrighted material and cannot be duplicated in any way without express written permission from the Author.
Corrupted Desire
Prologue
Throwing the press release down on his desk, he threw his head back and yelled. He was enraged. Beyond pissed. He had gone out of his way for months, fucking months, to see the bitch brought down. Working day and night, he had barely been able to sleep or think of anything else, his mind had been so consumed. And what comes of all of his hard work, sacrifice and suffering? Not a god damned thing, that's what.
But her? She had continually rolled over each and every obstacle he had placed in her path, not slowing down in the slightest, the dumb bitch not even suspecting he was behind it all. Nothing seemed to thwart her. Not only was her business still succeeding, but it was growing! And her reputation was still in tact, if not better, than when he started all this shit. The way things were headed, she should be paying him - since it seemed all he was accomplishing was to increase her fucking business.
The very idea caused his head to throb and bang, as if a construction crew had taken up place inside his skull, determined to blast a hole through. He knew, if he looked in the mirror right then, the veins on his forehead were swollen, protruded; he could feel the confirmation throbbing with each beat of his heart. God only knew, his face probably looked like a road map to hell; swollen red and blue veins acting as the highways.
Why was he the one in suffering, when it should be her? She needed to suffer - badly.
Frustration reaching a boiling point, he slammed his hands down on his desk and watched as papers and files flew into the air, some landing haphazardly across his desk, while others floated to the floor.
But, as his eyes ghosted over the remaining papers on his desk, his vision became consumed, zeroing in on the one slip of paper that started it all - the fucking Press Release. The damn thing had landed face up, on top of the stack, as if silently teasing him, mocking him in his ineptness.
"Motherfucking sonofabitch!" His voice thundered, bouncing off the walls of his office as he screamed his outrage. With a animistic roar and the swoop of his forearm, he swept the entire lot off of his desk and onto the floor, the lamp shattering against the far wall where it landed. What he had done thus far clearly wasn't working. So it was time for a change of tactic. To crank things up a notch. The question was how?
As the question breached his mind, his secretary, predictably, came running into his office; the sound of her high heels chipping away at his expensive marble floor and her annoying voice serving only to annoy him further.
"Oh my God, Theo? What happened?" she whispered, her hand raising to cover her mouth as she looked at the mess scattered across his floor.
Seriously, he thought, as he massaged his now aching head. She really had to ask what happened? As if it wasn't obvious enough? His first thought had been to simply answer yes, after all he was God-like, but he doubted she would catch the inference. After all, he didn't exactly hire her for her intelligence and secretarial skills...
But, he didn't respond. There was no need to. Hell, he had spent years studying people and he knew exactly what she would do. He could literally predict it down to the second. He could feel it.
At times, especially when he found himself bored and in need of headache-free stimulation - women - it became almost a game to him. He would create a situation, contemplate the outcome and then sit back, watching as it played out, just to see if he was right. He liked nothing more than to prove himself right. He was smarter, always able to foresee the conclusion no matter the circumstances. And he was rarely wrong.
That's why this whole situation had him grinding his molars until he knew he'd be paying his dentist a fortune to repair the damage caused by the aggravating bitch. He should send her the damn bill. She owed him, after all.
He was calling this all wrong and it was pissing him off.
But, as he watched the scene in front of him play out, he smiled, knowing he hadn't completely lost his touch.
Fascinated by his perception, he quietly watched as his secretary bent over the scattered papers. As she teetered on her five-inch heels, the small scrap of material that posed as her skirt lifted, exposing the edge of her red panties and, as she braced an arm on the floor, her lithe body extended as she reached for a paper, fully exposing her luscious, round ass to his greedy eyes.
Trapped within the confines of his slacks, his cock instantly hardened, lengthened, readying for the pleasure it knew was to come; his cock had as good of memory as he did. Still, he sat silently in his chair, his ego growing to match his erection as he watched it all play out before him.
As she stood, her arms full of the papers, she briefly looked up at him...and smiled. Ah, yes. There it was. She thought she had him - hook, line and sinker - he could see it from the expression on her face. She was playing him. She thought she held sway and power over him. How wrong she was. But who was he to debase her of her ideas? Especially when there were such fun things ahead?
Her mood instantly morphed into one of seductress, as she smiled and sauntered over to his desk, her hips rolling and swaying, as if to hypnotize him.
Placing the papers on his desk, she leaned over, enough that her full breasts were close to escaping the low vee of her top as she proceeded to innocently sort the papers into piles. Now this, this is why he hired Monica. She may be dumb as a load of fucking bricks, but she knew how to play the game and she had a rockin' body to back it up. Of course, it didn't hurt that she could suck a three-finger marble through a straw. With his tutelage, naturally.
Quietly, as to not draw her attention just yet, he rolled his chair back from his desk and scooted his ass a little lower in his seat so that his weight was resting on his tailbone. He'd done this enough times that he knew - more importantly she knew - just what he liked.
Placing his arms on the armrests of his executive chair, to all the world he would appear relaxed and casual. But inside his body was a seething, festering cauldron waiting to explode; anger and arousal clashing together, fighting for dominance, feeding off one another to create the perfect storm.
"Monica," he growled, his voice now guttural and giving hint as to the emotions brewing within him. "Why don't you leave those papers for later? Don't you have something better to do?"
Sure, he asked. He had to try and be polite for propriety's sake, since she was technically his employee. The last thing he wanted was a scorned chick suing him for some shit or another. She might not be the brightest bulb, but she learned quickly - he only asked once - as evidenced by her quick reaction and the seductive smile that graced her attractive face.
In instances such as this, he let her think she held the upper hand with him. After all, in his experience, most women thought that they could control men using their bodies; a good blow job does go far to change one's mind. And, there was no question that she was damn good. He had taken the time to teach her exactly what he liked.
But no matter, no woman would ever control him. Ever. He too had learned not only how to play the game, but how to master the game, early on. Lessons that he would now put to use.
As Monica approached, close enough that he could smell the peach body wash she used, his brain kicked back online as an idea percolated.
His mind in turmoil, he watched, detached, as if he were watching a movie reel, as Monica unclasped his trousers. He listened until he heard the sound of his zipper being pulled down, visualizing each lock as it disengaged. All the while a plan was growing and taking life within him, just as his cock had within his boxers.
Just as he laid his head back, he felt Monica's hand separate his trousers. He visualized what she would see - his swollen erection covered by dark blue silk boxers - as he felt her hand ghost over the surface, petting his hard cock like one would lovingly stroke a pet rock.
When he felt her fingertips teasing around, then under the edge of his boxers and softly caressing the head of his cock, he closed his eyes. But as he felt Monica's hand reach under his boxers and grasp his erection, stroking his full length, SHE appeared in his mind. Suddenly, she was the one stroking his cock, not Monica.
Eyes flashing open, his body went taut with anger as he ground his teeth to resist saying a word. That was not acceptable - not by a long fucking shot.
Deciding it was best to keep his eyes open for now, he looked down just in time to see Monica's head descend. And in that instant, he knew that he had just found the answer to his puzzle. Fucking. A.
As he felt Monica's mouth engulf his length, his mind went to work as fast as her mouth did, both working in consort, her actions giving fuel to his ideas. What the hell? He could easily enjoy two things at once. Especially the two things that brought him so much pleasure - sex and revenge.
The excitement at having finally found the answer he'd been seeking was almost better than the orgasm he felt fast approaching, pounding incessantly, rising in his shaft. Now that he had found the solution to his little problem, it was all about the planning. But first things first...
His pleasure continued to build as Monica wrapped her hand fully around his cock, stroking him from base to tip, as she sucked in consort, occasionally reaching down to grace her fingers over his hardening and aching balls.
Moaning quietly, lest he hand her too much power, his hips started to churn as she proceeded to do what she had learned would herald the end for him; rotating her mouth around the head of his erection, while her tongue rimmed the flared edge, as she continued to stroke and, alternately suck. Oh. Fuck. He HAD taught her well indeed.
Consumed by her practiced ministrations, he wasn't surprised to soon feel his balls tighten and cramp, almost to the point of pain, as a prelude to his orgasm.Should anyone other than Monica see him now, he would likely set about killing them. It was a rare few that were gifted with seeing this side of him.
A huge smile crossed his face and his head punched back against the chair's headrest as his spine involuntarily straightened and his entire body went taut. A deep groan released from his mouth when he finally came, the release so hard it felt as if his brains blew out the top of his skull. And she took all he had to give.
As Monica looked up at him, as she always did after blowing him, he smiled a huge smile - bigger than ever - knowing that she would think it was all for her. Let her. Because, even though she had no idea, she had just done him a huge favor; she blew him into the perfect solution and showed him the perfect weapon to use. Fuck yes!
He hated to admit, even if just to himself, but he'd been going about this all wrong. All. Wrong. He'd been trying to attack her from the outside. He'd been trying to damage her business and reputation, thinking it would make her fail and, ultimately, his end goal, suffer. How narrow-minded he had been.
He felt like bashing himself across the head as he thought of all of the wasted time, effort and money. He knew her better than that - had for years - and all along, he had known what would hurt her. After all, what better way to take down a woman - than with another woman.
Let the games begin, he thought, as he tucked his spent cock back into his boxers, watching as Monica stood up and crudely wiped her hand over her smiling mouth. Gads. Some women have no class, he thought. But, then again, she just blew me on her knees sitting in my office chair, so what can I expect?
His mind already percolating ideas, he quickly forgot about Monica as he zipped his pants up and sat at his desk. As she walked out of his office, he heard her mention something about an appointment he had, but his mind was already elsewhere.
Now that he had his answers it was time to act. Only this time, he would bring the bitch down...or die trying.
The Darkest Touch by Gena Showalter
