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Arousal
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Table of Contents
Epilogue (Darcy)
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Hard Push (Darcy)
Intimate Unfamiliarity (Darcy)
Playing the Role (Liam)
Priorities (Liam)
Memories (Darcy)
Deal Struck (Darcy)
The Motions (Liam)
The Real Show (Liam)
On Impulse (Darcy)
Get Me Out of Here (Darcy)
The Test (Liam)
Change of Plans (Liam)
Choices (Darcy)
Holding Up the Deal (Liam)
Enjoying the View (Darcy)
Temptation (Darcy)
Not Again (Liam)
Sweetened Up (Darcy)
Hunger (Liam)
Room for Two (Darcy)
Ready For It (Darcy)
The Truth (Liam)
Acceptance (Darcy)
Breakfast (Liam)
Pushed Again (Darcy)
Speaking her Language (Liam)
Natural High (Darcy)
Taken (Darcy)
Let Her Get There on Her Own (Liam)
Doing It (Darcy)
Busted (Liam)
Pulling Out (Darcy)
Smashed (Liam)
Dizzy (Darcy)
Exposed (Darcy)
Too Fast (Liam)
It Can’t Happen Again (Darcy)
Real Life (Liam)
Full (Darcy)
Dirty Billions
Jenny
Collin
Acknowledgments
Arousal
Simone Sowood
Contents
Author’s Note
Hard Push (Darcy)
Intimate Unfamiliarity (Darcy)
Playing the Role (Liam)
Priorities (Liam)
Memories (Darcy)
Deal Struck (Darcy)
The Motions (Liam)
The Real Show (Liam)
On Impulse (Darcy)
Get Me Out of Here (Darcy)
The Test (Liam)
Change of Plans (Liam)
Choices (Darcy)
Holding Up the Deal (Liam)
Enjoying the View (Darcy)
Temptation (Darcy)
Not Again (Liam)
Sweetened Up (Darcy)
Hunger (Liam)
Room for Two (Darcy)
Ready For It (Darcy)
The Truth (Liam)
Acceptance (Darcy)
Breakfast (Liam)
Pushed Again (Darcy)
Speaking her Language (Liam)
Natural High (Darcy)
Taken (Darcy)
Let Her Get There on Her Own (Liam)
Doing It (Darcy)
Busted (Liam)
Pulling Out (Darcy)
Smashed (Liam)
Dizzy (Darcy)
Exposed (Darcy)
Too Fast (Liam)
It Can’t Happen Again (Darcy)
Real Life (Liam)
Full (Darcy)
Epilogue (Darcy)
Dirty Billions
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Jenny
Collin
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Copyright © 2017 by Simone Sowood
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Everything you ever wanted in life is on the other side of fear.
—George Adair
Author’s Note
Please note this file contains the free bonus book Dirty Billions. Arousal ends at 50%. I hope you enjoy both stories, happy reading!
Simone x
Join my newsletter for a free extended epilogue on Liam and Darcy (and all my stories). Visit my website, or follow the link after the epilogue of Arousal.
Fake Girlfriend, Real Arousal
A woman I’ve never seen before just told her father I’m her boyfriend.
I walked into the restaurant to grab dinner between important meetings and there she was, red cheeked and fury in her electric blue eyes.
I figure I’ll help her out with whatever she has going on with her father, so I kiss her.
If she wants to be what’s on my menu, that’s fine by me.
As she melts into my arms, the taste of her lips and the fire in her eyes hits me in the gut.
She’s mine.
This might be a game to her, but I’m playing for real. And trust me when I say I never lose.
I’m going to use my vast wealth and power to get her exactly where I want her.
Who knows, I might even tell her who I really am.
Hard Push (Darcy)
“Welcome to the Fat Kok,” the hostess says, only glancing up from her clipboard long enough to give us a look of disapproval.
“We have a reservation for seven. We’re a little late,” my father says, his Rolex dangling from his scrawny wrist as he gestures to the hostess.
We’re a lot late, forty-five minutes to be exact. But punctuality never matters to my father. He kept all of us senior executives late for a pointless meeting.
The real reason for this torture is the date. April third. The date my parents’ divorce was finalized. Fifteen years ago. And we’re still marking the occasion.
“You have to wait for a table. Ten minutes. Maybe twenty.” She still hasn’t stopped studying her clipboard.
“That’s the best? Do you know what a loyal customer I am? We had a reservation.”
“You don’t like it, you leave,” she says.
“But I’m loyal,” my father says.
“Lots of people are loyal. You must wait.”
“It’s fine, we’ll wait. It’s no problem at all,” I blurt before my father can say anything else. I tug on his arm to encourage him away from the hostess station.
The Fat Kok is known for being rude to its customers, because it’s the best Chinese food in New York City. Having such tasty food means they can get away with a bare-bones dining room and chipped dishes left over from the seventies.
“Fine, we’ll wait,” my father says, his lip snarled as he speaks.
The entranceway is a cramped space, barely wider than the door. We stand as out of the way as possible.
I lean against the dark wood cut-out frame that separates the entrance from the tables. The smells wafting through it makes my stomach grumble. I worked through lunch and only ate a blueberry muffin at my desk and now I’m starving.
My father brought my brother, De
clan, and me here the day his divorce to my mother went through. Only young teenagers at the time, we didn’t fully understand the reason for a few more years. By that time, Mom had taken off to Australia never to be heard from again and we lived with Dad. Somehow in our minds, it had made sense that our parent was celebrating a divorce from our other parent, and it became an annual tradition.
A few years later, Declan took off to become a safari guide in Botswana, but my father and I kept up the ritual.
I’ll never claim it was easy. Or that working for him has been easy. I should say working with him, after all, I’m supposed to be the heir apparent to his global events business. But he still treats me like it’s my first year out of high school, not like I have an MBA from Columbia and understand our business better than he does.
He fumes as we wait in silence. From the sour look on his face, I can tell the evening isn’t going to be any easier than the afternoon. I wish he’d brought his young trophy wife, Harper, along. She can always defuse him, whereas I always seem to wind him up tighter.
For whatever reason, he doesn’t think including his new wife on a celebration of divorcing his old wife is appropriate.
“Darcy,” he starts. Using my name means this isn’t going to be good. “Enough time has passed. I’m serious, you need to find yourself a man.”
Here we go. His favorite topic. Couldn’t he have waited until we sat down?
“I don’t. I keep telling you, I’m perfectly happy with my life as it is.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Dad, I’m so busy with work I wouldn’t have time for a relationship. If I did, you’d complain I wasn’t putting in the hours necessary, and that I’m not serious about the business.”
“No, I wouldn’t. You need to find yourself a boyfriend.”
“Why? Why do I need to find a man? You think I can’t be happy without one?” I knew the answer. I shouldn’t have risen to his bait, but his pissy mood, standing in this cramped space and my hunger all come together to lower my defenses.
“It’s not just about you. When are you going to get that through your head?”
“It is just about me. This is my life. My life is about me.”
“That’s selfish. I haven’t killed myself for thirty years, building up Knight Global Events, a family dynasty, only to have it end because there isn’t anyone to leave it to.”
Family dynasty now, is it?
“So, go tell Declan to give you an heir. He’s your first born anyway.”
“You know as well as I do that that’s not going to happen.”
“It’s as likely to happen as me giving you one.”
A couple dressed up for a date stroll in the door and squeeze by us to get to the hostess stand. The guy rests his hand on his companion’s lower back as they speak to the hostess. It catches my attention. This must be early on in their relationship. When everything is still fresh and lovely and touchy. I sigh.
My father continues speaking about me settling down and I only half hear what he says. I can guess well enough; find a man, find a man, find a man. He’s nothing if not persistent.
Maybe this is the couple’s first date. Imagine bringing your first date here. ‘Why hello, great to see you, let’s take a time machine to the seventies.’ No thanks. I like this place, sure, but the rudeness and decor doesn’t exactly make for a good spot to get to know someone. Especially if you want to get in the mood for the later part of the night. This restaurant is as far from sexy as a sewage treatment plant.
“Hey! Hey!” My dad barks. My eyes widen in horror as my father runs after the hostess, who is leading the couple to a table. “We were here first. You need to seat us next!”
“They came in time for their reservation. You didn’t.”
“Dad, Dad. It’s fine.” I pull the sleeve of his suit jacket, dragging him back to the entrance area.
“This is ridiculous. It’s the last time I ever come here.” I’ve heard that before, it wouldn’t be an annual trip to the Fat Kok without him saying it.
He reluctantly follows me back, but he glares at the people sitting at the table on the other side of the cut-out wooden screen. They’ve finished eating and chat over nothing, this isn’t exactly the sort of place that serves coffee.
“Stop staring,” I hiss.
My father’s eyes flare as he turns his attention back to me. Here we go again, round two.
“You’re twenty-seven years old now, you do realize you don’t have many good years left. You have to make the most of your looks while you still have them.”
“Don’t worry, Dad, I’ve already established a relationship with my nearest cat shelter.”
“I’m serious, Darcy. I know you think it’s funny, but I don’t. A man would make you happy, he’d give you a good…” His voice trails off.
Oh. My. God. Was my father really about to tell me I need a good fuck?
That’s it, I’ve had enough.
“You know what, I’ve been seeing someone. I just didn’t feel the need to tell you.” That should shut him up.
“You’re full of it. I no more believe that than I believe you’ve qualified for the Olympics.”
My eyes narrow. I need a man right now all right, but not for the reason my father insists upon. I need one to get my father off my back. I swear, if a lone man walks in the door I am so telling my father he’s my boyfriend.
Intimate Unfamiliarity (Darcy)
At that exact moment, the door opens. I lock my gaze over my father’s shoulder, staring at the doorway. My heart pounds as a man appears in it. I’m so eager to check his hand for a ring that I don’t even look at his face. No ring. No spouse, at least.
He fully emerges into the restaurant and lets the door shut behind him. He’s alone. I am so going to do this.
I brush past my father and stand in front of the man, blocking his path. His spicy cologne is more delicious smelling than the food I’m so hungry for.
I swallow and go for it.
“Dad, this is him. I wanted it to be a nice surprise, but you’ve ruined that.”
“What?” the man and my father say in unison.
I take a deep breath and look up, both hoping the man will play along with me and that he won’t be old. Please don’t let him be like eighty or something. Oh shit, what if he’s someone my father knows?
My eyes drag up this man’s exquisitely cut suit, over his broad shoulders and thick neck. When I reach his face they dart around, taking in the man’s perfect, non-eighty-year-old face. A strong jaw, full lips and thick, dark eyelashes framing bright, caramel eyes merge to form a sum greater than their parts.
Our eyes meet, and a shiver pulses down my spine. Fuck me. This guy is so far out of my league it’s not even funny. I’m not only about to be exposed as a liar, I’m about to get knocked down in rejection in front of my father. I will hear about this until the end of time. And this, without a doubt, is the last time I’m ever coming to the Fat Kok.
The gorgeous man smiles in bewilderment. Man, I thought he was out of my league a minute ago, but now the smile has turned his face into a whole new level of unattainableness.
But, rightly or wrongly, his smile eases my anxiety and I press ahead with my plan. I turn back to face my father, hoping beyond hope that the man doesn’t make faces behind me when he hears what I’m about to say.
“Dad, this is my boyfriend... um,” should I make up a name? Change of plan, I look back at the man. Damn, every time I look at him he’s even better looking. “Honey, this is my father, Timothy Knight.” My eyes plead with this handsome stranger as my cheeks burn in shame. Bad plan. Stupid Darcy.
“Timothy, so nice to finally meet you, I’m Liam,” he says, his voice is a smooth, rich timbre. I watch in shock as the man extends his hand to my dad.
“Liam, it’s a pleasure. I hope you’ll stay and join us for dinner.”
“Dad, he doesn’t have time to stay and eat. He’s just popped in to meet you.” Good God, I just c
hanged this stranger’s plans for the evening. I mean, he did just come in here to eat, and now I’m sending him away. Except he’s not going to go away, why would he? I need to stop talking, slink out the door, and let the night swallow me whole.
Liam looks down at me, his eyes wide and kind and smiling, and half my insides melt. Whatever else happens, I can remember that look when I get home to my trusty vibrator.
I stumble as a woman brushes past me on her way out of the restaurant, and fall into him.
Liam wraps his arms around me, as if we had some sort of intimate familiarity between us. I lean into his hard body and try to imagine the muscles hidden by the suit. My heart bounces off my ribs.
“I’d love to,” Liam says.
With his hand, he tilts my chin up, leans over and presses his mouth against mine. His lips part my lips and I find myself drawn into his kiss. When his tongue slips into my mouth, I can’t stop my own tongue from swirling around it. Putting an arm around my lower back, he presses my entire body into his in a way that’s not entirely suitable in public or in front of my father.
Feeling as though I may explode, I wrap my arms around his neck, this stranger’s neck, bringing myself yet closer to him. Our kiss deepens again, my tongue reaching all the way to the back of his throat.
I become aware of my father clearing his throat and I start to pull away. But the stranger doesn’t let go, he keeps on kissing me. His hand moves from my lower back to my ass, cupping and squeezing it.
Overwhelmed, my mind shuts down. Time passes, maybe three seconds, maybe thirty minutes. All I’m aware of is the explosion bursting through my body from his touch. Inside, I am fourteen years old and have just kissed the world’s most famous popstar.
I make an audible moan, snapping me back into the room.
My father clears his throat louder and then louder still. That doesn’t stop us. We don’t stop until a table of customers needs to get past us to get out the door.
“Are you sure you have time to eat with us?” I say breathlessly, giving him a way out but secretly willing him to stay. Our eyes meet again, and I struggle to keep my knees from buckling again.
A big smile spreads across his face, fanning the flames already burning in me.