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Prologue
Four years ago…
Tate Vades reclined in a shadowed booth, glaring at a high-top table of wolances at hi his nerves
There had been a tier But his hands didn’t twitch Neither did his cock
He hardened for only one woman A fierce woman with eyes of molten brown and fire in her soul
What a cruel thing love was, silent and desolate in its torture How ironic that loving so that hurt the most
He kne to suppress the physical, psychological, and emotional repercussions of violence How to tune out the echoes of his weakened screaeoned flesh The sharp, bitter scent of blood
He was a survivor of captivity and sexual torture, and despite it all, he still considered himself a proud, dominant man But when it came to love, he was a victim, powerless and unbearably alone in its apathetic clutches
Two years ago, Camila Dias rescued him from his ruthless captors She’d appeared out of nowhere, stunningly beautiful with guns blazing as she murdered the man who had paid Van Quiso a million dollars for Tate’s body A man who meant to own Tate and use him in depraved ways
But Camila saved him from that fate She freed him Then she stole his heart
“Can I get you another beer?” A server stopped at the table, his tattooed fingers deftly collecting the empty bottles in front of Tate
“No, thanks” He lit a cigarette but didn’t inhale
He wasn’t a smoker Not anymore He just needed to keep his hands busy while he came to terms hat he planned to do
His long-suffering patience with Camila had finally reached its end
He’d helped her bring down Van Quiso’s sex trafficking operation in Texas Her shters—was her therapy, her way of consoling the wounds she’d collected during her own captivity in Van’s shackles
She, Tate, and five others—Ricky, Toether, and slowly recovered fro After they escaped, Tate bided his tie, and to open her heart
Two years later, she still didn’t belong to him
Of all her roommates, he was her closest friend When they were alone, she spoke of her darkest desires and forbidden fantasies, her seductive voice leaving him endlessly hard and desperate But he hadn’t fucked her, hadn’t so much as kissed her
He thought he was being chivalrous, providing her a safe place to put her trust and with time, her love
He was a fool
She didn’t want chivalry or patience or love At least, not with hi Or, if his intuition was correct, someone
But who? Who did Caht?
He snuffed out the cigarette and tossed a wad of cash on the table He was done waiting Done being friend-zoned It was time to introduce her to the real Tate Vades The rip her by her stubborn throat, and demand her secrets, her submission, and her love
Rising to his feet, he turned and collided with a rock-hard body “Excuse me—”
“Have a drink with me” Hazel eyes and dark hair, the ridiculously attractive stranger gestured at the booth, his accent hinting at south of the border “I insist, Mr Vades”
He knows my name? What the fuck?
“Who are you?” Tate held the stranger’s intense stare with one of his own
“We’ll get to that First…” The uardiente Neat And another beer for my friend”
Cauardiente Always neat She said it was the way Colombians preferred their soft vodka