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Wicked Intentions

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Totally Bound

Release Date: June 2012

ISBN: 978-1-78184-021-4

Genre: Contemporary

Series: Bonds of Justice - Book 1

Length: Novella

Format: E-Book

 

 

 

 

 

An unexpected meeting leads a widower on a journey that will change his life forever and possibly give him a new love.

 

Evan Murray is working hard to get back to as close to normal as he can after the death of his husband. An attempt on his life shatters the hard-won peace he has achieved. Meeting Ian, one of the detectives sent to handle his case, Evan finds himself feeling something he didn’t expect to feel for any other man again – attraction. Evan doesn’t believe anyone wants to hurt him, yet with each new attempt, he realizes he might be in more danger than he expects. Although he might be in danger, he won’t let the unknown person control his life. As he gets to know more about Ian, Evan finds himself drawn to this man who is working to find the one out to kill him. Evan doesn’t want to be just another case. There is so much more he needs from Ian…things that include being more up close, personal, and wicked.

Ian Walsh finds his professional detachment shattered by his latest case. Evan’s optimism in the face of everything, and his guilelessness, makes for an interesting puzzle. His stubbornness, on the other hand, aggravates Ian. Yet he can’t help but be captivated. Keeping Evan at a distance has become a problem. The lines between case and personal are blurred, but Ian is powerless to stop what is happening. With each new attempt made on Evan, they are baffled by the randomness of it. Ian will not let anything happen to this man who has captured him with his Wicked Intentions.

 
 

Excerpt

Warning: This excerpt contains adult content. 18 and over only, please.

 
  He lifted the receiver, propping it on his shoulder, starting to type again as he said, “I painted a bullseye on my chest, went outside, then shook my ass, taunting the shooter to come get me.” He stopped typing. “Hmmm…maybe that can work in a book.”

“It would be better to do that in fiction than reality,” a deep baritone said.

That voice. Although he had heard it only once, he recognised it. Evan lifted his head, dropping the phone from its perch. He winced as it clattered to the desk. He picked it up.

“Shit. Sorry…the phone fell.” He breathed deep as he continued. “You’re absolutely right. I would never do that in reality, Detective. Probably not in a book.”

“Not Detective. We did away with that formality. It’s Ian. Why probably not in a book?”

“Because my main protagonist would not go for that.”

“Then make it a wacky sub-character. Someone that your main character would look at and wonder, ‘What the fuck?’” Ian stated.

“You know, that could work. Even down to the ’What the fuck?’. You seem to know my main protag. Have you read my books?” Evan held the phone firmer.

“No, I haven’t. But my research for the case included some about your writing.”

Evan was disappointed that he hadn’t read them. “Do you like mysteries?”

“When they’re written close to the way things are done.”

“I try to do that. I’ll send you some of my books,” Evan said.

“That isn’t necessary, Evan.”

Evan didn’t reply either way, changing the subject. “I’ll use the bullseye thing in my new book. It’s going so well. Getting shot at seems to be great inspiration.” He laughed.

“Tell me what you’re writing about. Or is that top secret while you’re working on it?” Ian asked.

He hesitated. Usually, while he was writing, he didn’t share his plot with anyone…aside from Danny. His heart ached at how he missed that. Ian spoke again.

“I understand. I—”

Evan interrupted him. “No, that’s okay. It’s just been a while since I’ve done that.” He cleared his throat, then told Ian what he was writing.

Evan stood as he spoke. He went to his bookcase and pulled out the hardcover editions of the first six books in the series. He always had extras. He placed them on the side table in his home office and wrote a note for his assistant to mail them to Ian at the police station. Grabbing the card Ian had given him, he clipped it to the paper so he had the address. Evan sat again, relaxing back into his seat. He enjoyed Ian’s insights into his plot. Evan glanced at the time, realising they had been talking for almost an hour.

“Sorry. You should have told me to shut up. When I get going about my stories, I tend to keep going.”

“No problem. I was enjoying it. Sounds like you do keep things close to reality,” Ian said.

“I try. Thanks for listening to me. Maybe I’ll pick your brain for some of my research.”

“Pick away,” Ian offered.

“Be careful what you agree to. I can go on for hours.”

“We can keep talking as long as you’d like. I’m home for the night. I can’t promise to not start snoring in your ear.” Ian laughed, a warm sound. 

“Oh. Umm…long day, huh?” Evan asked.

“Just another day. Lots of cases, very little progress.”

“Just like my case. Is that the reason you’re calling? Did you find something?” Evan asked.

“Nothing yet. I know you spoke with Hunter a few times, but I had some other questions.”

“Sure. Go ahead.” Evan glanced out at the view behind his house.

The oasis of flowers, trees, and comfortable seating beckoned him. Standing, he crossed his spacious office and paused before the glass door. He slid it open and stepped outside. He curled his bare toes into the plush grass. He wandered as he answered Ian’s questions. In the semi-dark of his garden, Ian’s voice, despite the professional edge of his questions, seemed intimate.

“Well, that’s it.”

“Okay, Ian.”

There was a pause, then Ian said, “About the book, I think you really are going somewhere with making the car blow up. But you should get the feel of it right. The scent and sounds. I’ve heard the bomb guys talk about how each bomb has a different scent and feel to it.”

“Really. How?”

Evan listened as Ian told him about it. He sat on the padded bench swing in an alcove of trees towards the back of his garden. He plucked at a thread he saw in the zigzagged pattern of the seat. He stopped, hugging a blue cushion. They continued to chat about his book and some of Ian’s experiences as a cop. Evan returned inside when it darkened and started getting cooler. Not bothering with the lights, he sat back in his comfortable office chair, discussing his book and other things with Ian. As the conversation wound down, he was reluctant to get off the phone. Ian yawned again.

“You’d better go sleep, before you start snoring in my ear,” Evan teased.

“I’d better, since I don’t want to frighten you with my loud rattling.” Ian chuckled, his voice hoarse.

“Night, Ian.”

“Night, Evan. It was…good talking with you. I’ll let you know if I hear any more on your case.”

The dial tone sounded in Evan’s ear. He frowned at the phone. He’d heard the regret and shift back to professionalism in Ian’s tone. Evan replaced the receiver, putting his head back on the chair. Ian was an enigma—one Evan hoped he would get a chance to know better.

Just as a friend. He’s going to be a friend.

Evan might have been attracted to him, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to pursue anything else. Ian would make a good friend. Evan was already looking forward to their next conversation. Evan brought his computer out of hibernation and went back to writing. Ian’s insights made the scene he was working on get clearer.

Much later, Evan got ready for bed. He could have kept writing, but he had a workout session planned with Gio and Brooks. After today’s—he glanced at the clock, noting it was after two a.m.—yesterday’s, and the intense exercise routine they had gone through, he knew he needed his rest. He didn’t even think of cancelling it.

Sliding between the covers, he was still too keyed up to go to sleep. Evan ran his hand over the front of his pajama shorts, stroking along the ridge of his cock.

   
  Copyright © Talia Carmichael, 2012.
All Rights Reserved.
 

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