Devlin UnLeashed Read online

  Devlin UnLeashed

  Bethany Bazile

  Copyright © 2014 Bethany Bazile

  Literary Editor: Rogena Mitchell-Jones, Manuscript Service

  Copy Edited & Proofread by Lori Whitwam of Ripleygold Proofreading & Copy Editing

  Interior Design & Formatting by Nadège Richards of Inkstain Interior Book Designing

  Cover Artist: Melissa Gill of MG BookCovers & Designs

  Cover Model: James Joseph Pulido

  Cover Photography by FuriousFotog

  All rights reserved.

  Warning: No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Epilogue

  About Devlin Unleashed

  Devlin Ward was a ruthless man. A man born among violence with a heavily burdened mind.

  He wasn’t the sort of man fairy tales were made of, but he was sinfully beautiful and addictively seductive.

  Dark and dangerous, yet utterly alluring.

  I’d fooled myself once, only allowing myself to see the beauty in him despite the shadows I’d glimpsed in his eyes.

  When that darkness took over, I ran.

  And now he’s found me.

  He’d trusted me with his love, and now he wants it back. And he’s all too willing to crush my heart to make his whole again.

  Juliana betrayed me.

  Went against everything I believed in and pushed the monster I tried to keep hidden out into the open.

  Our love was twisted—and I’d made it that way. But I wasn’t prepared to let it go.

  I hunted her for years, picking up traces of her scent as she moved from city to city to escape me.

  Now that I’ve found her, I’m not sure even her fiery light can brighten the blackout she left me in when she walked away.

  Mature content warning: This title is a dark erotic romantic and is intended for Adults 18+ due to explicit sexual content, language, violence, and dubious consent.

  Prologue

  Juliana

  Hate is a strong word, and a word I very seldom used. I’d learned years ago what it felt like to really hate someone. I’d reserved that term for one man. The man who snatched me from my life, changed me, and then returned me as if nothing had happened.

  I’d dreamt of his face, though I’d never seen it. I’d imagined him to be a vile, disgusting beast in a beautiful disguise. What he took from me had damaged me so immensely it had consequently ruined every other relationship in my life.

  He destroyed me.

  But the Juliana Callahan who now stood tall was the epitome of perfection. She was at the top of her class, followed her father’s hopes and dreams to a tee, but inside, she was a dark mess.

  I was a broken mess.

  The seventeen-year-old girl, who’d lived a nightmare, refused to go away and take her memories with her. So when I say I reserved that word for someone who tore me apart, I never once guessed I’d grant that same title to the man who made me feel love again.

  The thin line between love and hate everyone spoke of was bullshit. It was more like a dark, gaping pit I plunged into headfirst. There was no line, thin or thick, that separated the feelings. In that gaping hole, all emotions infused into an unbearable struggle to hold onto my soul or to hand it over to a man who’d left me unbalanced.

  Part One

  A Monster’s Love

  Chapter One

  Juliana

  It always happened when you least expected it. You hoped and prayed for this moment in life when something big happened to change the empty and monotonous course you’d steered onto—only when it happened, the moment was so swift, you didn’t recognize it for the life-altering moment it was.

  I was twenty-two in my last year at the university. My day was going exactly like every other, except that day, as I stepped out of the coffee shop I frequented, I ran into him.

  I stumbled a few steps back as I collided with a solid wall of man, trying to balance my Styrofoam cup in my right hand, which I failed to accomplish. Hot java spilled on my hand and onto his crisp shirt. I gasped from the heat that scorched my hand and was amazed the man didn’t even flinch as his shirt molded to his skin from the hot coffee stain.

  “I’m so sorry.” I shifted the cup to my other hand while balancing my books on my forearm. In an attempt to clean off his shirt, my hand skated down his chest. My effort to wipe it off only made it worse by spreading the liquid across his expensive eggplant shirt.

  How did I know it was expensive? The fabric was like nothing I’d ever touched, high quality and well-tailored to his frame.

  Our eyes met. My hand froze at the upper ridge of his abdomen. Despite his cold, hard stare, he’d captured my attention.

  The perfectly chiseled angle of his face was sharp, covered with a dusting of hair that framed his tightly thinned out lips. His soft blue eyes were breathtaking. Cool and unassuming when gazing into them, but as I continued to take him in, a burn began that left me warm and disoriented inside. He wore thick, black-framed glasses that magnified the intensity in his stare. He was incredibly handsome despite his furrowed brows and the deep frown he threw at me.

  “Uh…” I pulled my hand away as the heat from his skin began to seep through his shirt, reminding me I was in intimate contact with a stranger, who’d yet to speak a word to me. The silence was disconcerting. I was almost afraid that if he did speak, his bark would scare the life out of me. His domineering demeanor was that of a man who didn’t whisper soft words. He’d bark out orders—demands.

  His gaze traveled from my eyes, down my body, and back up. His stare was empty. His eyes didn’t show a spark of interest, disgust or otherwise. They showed nothing. He’d studied me and left me feeling inadequate. Suddenly, I felt insuffic
ient in my ripped jeans and black tank top. I ran my fingers into my hair trying to fix the strands falling out of my messy bun. An urgent need to escape him overcame me, but I couldn’t just walk off after ruining his shirt. A shirt I was sure cost more than any clothing I owned.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” His deep, rasping voice was unexpected and set my heart racing. The sound that came out of his mouth turned me on—everything about the man made me hot.

  Was this man real?

  I blinked to be sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. Never had I felt this kind of overwhelming reaction to a man. Usually, I was quite indifferent and had only been with a few men who sparked the slightest interest.

  “Are you sure, because—”

  “Good day.” He dismissed me with his sharp words and an arched brow, daring me to continue when I held up a finger. I couldn’t stop myself from watching him as he walked halfway down the street, stopping at a shiny black convertible. Before he climbed in, he tilted his head my way, and paused for two short seconds before disappearing into the vehicle.

  As the car pulled away from the curb, I turned and made my way to the university. It was my turning point, but I didn’t recognize it as such. I pushed the mysteriously handsome man out of my mind and continued like I hadn’t just run into a wicked temptation that would send my life spiraling.

  Chapter Two

  Juliana

  Less than a week later, I walked into a downtown nightclub with Trace and Claire. Our friendship started freshman year, and we became roommates sophomore year.

  Trace was my go-to guy. Fun, outgoing, and he always knew what to say to make me see every bad situation in a different way. He was my optimist, while Claire was my hate-to-love pessimist—mostly because she was always right.

  Me?

  I was the balancer. I calmed down Trace’s crazy and got Claire to let loose when she was too wound up. Nobody knew how much effort I had to put into appearing like the calm, cool, collected person. No one knew about the nightmares I overcame, the years of therapy that finally helped me heal. And my roommates thought I had my shit together. Granted, on the outside, I did, but inside—where it counted—the scars ran deep.

  “I’ll grab us some drinks,” Trace shouted over the loud music as Claire and I settled into two stools at a small, circular table set against the wall. Claire stared at Trace as he walked away, unaware I watched her hidden interest in him.

  Trace was tall with lean muscles and floppy blond hair. Tonight he wore black skinny jeans with chains hanging off his belt and a grunge gray t-shirt. He was everything Claire hated in guys, the bad boy who played in a band and got whatever girl he wanted. But what always threw Claire off about Trace was how smart he was. Claire was a perfectionist who was here on a full scholarship, but there’ve been plenty of times Trace had to help her through her coursework. His intelligence attracted and confused her.

  Claire turned to me as Trace disappeared into the crowd. She flushed when she noticed my knowing smile. In an effort to divert me from bringing it up, she asked, “So how’d your audition go?”

  “It was really great. I think I’m getting this one. It’s just a small production, but I’m excited.” I couldn’t contain the enthusiasm in my voice.

  Claire smiled. “Well, you deserve it. You’re an amazing dancer.”

  I nodded my thanks, and as I looked over her shoulder, something pulled my attention to the balcony where the VIP section was located. It was mostly dark from this angle, but the soft glow of the blue light revealed a man. He looked straight at me and didn’t bother to pretend he wasn’t watching me when I stared his way. Nervously, I turned away but still felt the heat of his gaze lingering.

  “Did you hear me, Jules?”

  “Huh?” Claire drew my attention off the man, but I kept glancing up, so she got curious and turned to see what had caught my attention.

  “Do you know him?” I asked, thinking I was wrong and maybe he was eyeing Claire. Though she was modestly dressed in jeans and a silk blouse, she was strikingly pretty with her dark hair and green eyes. She was beautiful with a serious demeanor.

  She shook her head and turned her attention to Trace as he returned with a beer and two watermelon martinis for Claire and me. Claire looked at the glass he put down in front of her and began complaining about him purposely getting her alcohol when he knew she was the designated driver. I sipped on my drink and glanced around the club, knowing this would turn into a huge disagreement.

  It was still early, so it wasn’t overly crowded yet. I knew Claire and Trace would continue bickering for a while. The argument went from being about a drink to Trace’s lack of self-control and irresponsibility. I wondered how much longer it would take for them to realize they had feelings for one another. I’d even tried to push them toward each other a few times, but those attempts had backfired, ending in them not speaking for weeks.

  I snuck a glance at the VIP section, hoping I was covert enough not to give away my intention to check on the man in the balcony.

  Yup. He was still there watching me. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, and just as I was about to turn my gaze away from him, a strobe of light flashed on his face, and my stomach tightened. It was the guy I had spilled my coffee on days ago. I turned away quickly, my fingers tightening around the stem of my glass.

  Trace picked up Claire’s glass and drank the contents in a few big gulps then slammed it down in front of her. “There!” he shouted, his face twisted with frustration. “Now you can be a proper designated driver. Just stop fucking nagging me.”

  Claire crossed her arms, biting down on her lip, but not before I saw her lips tremble. She was seething, on the verge of tears, but she held it in and just stared at him, shaking her head to the same rhythm her leg had taken up.

  “Come on, Juliana, let’s dance.” Trace yanked my hand and dragged me to the middle of the dance floor, far enough away from Claire that we couldn’t see her. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and buried his face into my neck as we swayed rather slowly to the up-tempo beat.

  “Why the fuck does she hate me, Jules?”

  “She doesn’t hate you.” She hated the feelings she had for a rebel, so she came down on him for any and everything he did, even buying her a drink, which was supposed to be a nice gesture.

  As Trace moved me around the dance floor, again my eyes were drawn to the upstairs balcony. The man had no qualms about blatantly eyeing me, so this time I returned his stare, allowing myself to take him in.

  He was dressed in dark colors. The light strobes that occasionally hit his face revealed a stormy expression, which seemed to be his trademark.

  The song finished and I pulled out of Trace’s embrace as the next one began. He looked over at our table where Claire was engrossed in conversation with a guy in a suit. His forlorn expression broke my heart. I wished Claire could see that being wild and carefree wasn’t Trace’s flaw. But being too stubborn to see how good they would be together was definitely her flaw. She was hindered by the strict plans she set up for her life, and it didn’t leave room for the unexpected and the reckless.

  “I’ll be at the bar for a while.” I nodded and watched as he sidled up to the bar, finding a spot in the far corner where he could sulk, but while still keeping an eye out for Claire.

  Unable to stop myself, I glanced back up at the VIP section. I sighed once I noticed it was empty. I gave Claire a sharp look of disapproval as I passed the table on my way to the restroom. The smile she’d pasted on for her companion faltered as our gazes locked, but she blinked and returned the smile to her face as she turned back to him.

  I shook my head as I entered the bathroom, frustrated with my roommates, frustrated with myself for wondering if I’d see the mystery man again.

  A few short minutes later, I stepped into the hallway and ran right into a tall blonde woman. “I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out to steady her as she stum
bled. She huffed and mumbled something I couldn’t understand before pushing the door to the bathroom open aggressively.

  Okay…

  I continued down the hall, but just as I approached the opening to the club, someone’s hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me aside. I sucked in a sharp breath as my back hit the wall with a soft thud.

  I yelped, preparing to scream for help, when I was greeted with his face. My shout died in my throat as I stared into his eyes. “You.”

  “Me,” he replied, staring at me, causing an awkward silence that made me shift nervously.

  “What—what are you doing here?” Stupid question—it’s a club. But I came here often and didn’t remember seeing him.

  “It’s my club. I’m usually here.”

  “Oh… Really? I’ve never seen you here before.”

  He shrugged. “Is he your boyfriend?”

  He glanced over his shoulder to where Trace was seated at the bar. My instincts told me to lie, to say yes, and give him a reason to abandon his pursuit. It was hard to figure out what was going on in his head from his expression, but I knew lust when I saw it. Though he tried to hide it with an angry scowl, he wanted me, and lying about Trace could get him to back off.

  I shook my head slowly, flinching as he reached out and ran his fingers up my jawline, behind my ears, and then into my hair. Inadvertently, I leaned into his touch, our eyes never breaking contact.

  “Come up to my lounge.” Not a question—a demand, almost like a proposition for hot, dirty sex without actually saying the words.

  “I can’t,” I squeaked out, then cleared my throat and continued, “I’m here with friends.”

  And you don’t know this man, a voice whispered in my head.

  “Make an excuse. Security will let you up. I’ll be waiting.” He turned and made his way back to the stairwell without even waiting for confirmation that I’d soon follow behind.

  It took a few minutes to recover from being so close to him. My heart pounded and my hands felt clammy. I couldn’t explain my reaction, but it was unwelcome, and it left me feeling unsettled.