Reunion (World Without Love #2)
by Jaye Frances
Paperback, 306 pages
Published February 10th 2016 by Rerdstone Press
ISBN 9780692625
"Reunion" is the second book in “World Without Love,” a suspense thriller series with an erotic edge. The series is a continuing story and is meant to be read in sequence, beginning with Book One, titled "Betrayed," which is available in kindle eBook and paperback from Amazon
In "Reunion," Jewel's story continues as she finds herself stranded in a far-flung corner of the world. Struggling to elude her captors and a network of bounty hunters, she meets her would-be savior, a man who promises to provide protection and comfort. Believing her nightmare has finally come to an end, Jewel begins making plans to return home, where she can start her life over again. But greed raises its ugly head, and the terrifying future she thought she'd evaded becomes a reality. Deceived by the only one she believed she could trust, Jewel is left defenseless against the sadistic abusers who take pleasure in teaching her their own form of discipline. With the dream of rescue and returning home to San Diego even further from her reach, she begins planning her revenge on the men who have stolen her life—and her future.
"Reunion" contains mature content and is intended for an 18+ audience.
Excerpt from Reunion:
“They put you in my room?”
I’d left the bedroom door cracked. As it swept open, I’d assumed it was Maria coming in to check on me.
I recognized Logan right away.
“Yes,” I whispered, propping myself up on one elbow. “Your dad thought you were staying on the boat. I didn’t mean to take over your room. I’ll be up and out in a minute. I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs.”
“You don’t need to move. I’m not staying. I only came back to get some clean clothes.”
I realized he had an unrestricted view of my breasts. Hoping I hadn’t embarrassed him, I pulled the covers up.
“It’s okay,” he grinned. “I’ve seen them before. I was the one who pulled you out of the ocean.”
“I thought your father found me.”
“He saw you floating. But I was the one who brought the dingy over and pulled you off that piece of scrap.”
I heard the male vanity in his voice, wanting recognition.
“So you brought me back to the boat by yourself?”
He nodded. I was sure I saw him stand a little straighter.
“And I guess you were also the one who took my clothes off and put me in the bed?”
Even in the dim light from the hallway, I could see he was embarrassed.
“I should have thanked you earlier,” I added, “for saving my life.”
He shuffled from one foot to the other, seemingly uncomfortable with the praise.
“I must have looked like a drowned rat. I’d been on that broken section of the boat for—”
“No,” he interrupted. “You looked so pretty . . . and helpless. I mean, I wasn’t sure how to hold on to you, to lift you into the dingy.” He paused. “I saw the bruises on your ankles. Did you get those from the wreck?”
“I got banged up when the boat capsized.” There was no point in telling him the truth.
Even through the shadows, I saw his young face etched with sympathy. His reactions were so traditionally male, reflecting the appropriate concern over a woman’s suffering. It was cute as hell.
I reached out in a spontaneous gesture, giving him permission to come closer. Intertwining his fingers with mine, I felt a surge of emotion sweep through me. Although he’d pulled me off the ocean hours ago, this was rescue—the heat of a man, his unspoken question lingering in the air between us.
On the Kelsey, I would have had to accommodate him whether I wanted to or not. Now I was being asked. Not with words, but with a caress. And what I said—what I decided—would be honored.
Another indication I was finally free.
I felt the quiver in his hand. He was nervous, perhaps not sure what to do next, or not sure what I wanted him to do.
I didn’t need to think about it. The bed was cold and lonely. The thought of him lying next to me was intoxicating. He was so young, so delightfully vulnerable. That’s what made him so right, and nonthreatening. Bursting with male libido, he would come to me, driven by the anticipation of exploring my body without restriction, by the thrill of plunging his cock inside me.
My reasons were not near as exciting.
Joining with him would be my way of re-establishing a connection between my body and mind—broken by the men of the Kelsey. Maria had started the process. I needed a man to complete it.
I swept back the covers. “Keep me warm?”
His face lit up like a fireworks display, his solid jawline offering a crooked smile while revealing straight, white teeth.
Quickly, quietly, he locked the door and removed his clothes. The sight of his firm, tight butt—the defined and toned muscles flexing as he walked in front of the bed—made me want to stop time. His broad shoulders emphasized his trim waist, and his unblemished honey-bronze skin glowed in the window’s peeking light from a newly rising moon.
His cock was large, noticeably longer and with a much greater girth than my husband’s. Unfettered by gravity, it stood proud and straight, and reminded me of the oversized genitals portrayed on Asian deities of fertility. It was the kind of penis my gay art teacher from high school would have called a ‘magnificent symbol of manhood.’
I couldn’t wait to put my hands on him.
World Without Love Series
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This sounds like a great series.
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