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  “Are you threatening me?” She tries to glare, but to me she just looks scared. I know what scared looks like—better than most people. I spend a breath deciding whether I want her to be afraid.

  Not yet. I loosen my shoulders and try to use a soothing voice.

  “I’m making you an offer, Cleo. Deal for me. I’m not a buyer, or a grower. I’m a supplier. I supply a few dealers in this area.” When she doesn’t say no or run screaming, I continue. “I’ve got a strong, steady supply of good stuff. Medical grade.”

  She snorts. “I’ve heard that before.”

  I reach behind me, into a vase on one of my end tables and pull out a long, purple-tinted bud. I enjoy the way her mouth drops open, revealing to me her pretty, pink tongue.

  “But have you seen it before?”

  She grabs the bud from my hand, runs it under her nose, breathes deeply as her eyes drift shut.

  “See? Quality.”

  She sets her face on lockdown and passes the bud back to me. Her fingers brush my hand, making my chest go warm.

  “What do you say?”

  She glances behind her, and all of a sudden I realize her breaths have turned to hisses.

  I curse my own stupidity, but it doesn’t slow me down. I step a little closer to her. Run my hand down her arm. When she doesn’t jerk away, I even get the nerve to take her hand. I slide my fingers through hers. Perfect fit.

  “Look at me, Cleo. Breathe.”

  “I am breathing.” Her huge green eyes find mine. “I want to leave. Will you let me leave?” She’s panting. Shit.

  “Of course,” I lie.

  “You’re lying. If I don’t do what you want, you won’t let me leave!” Her eyes flit up and down me, working on my dick like a caress from her long, tanned fingers. “You’re a phony. You’re a bigger phony than I am.” Her hand, around mine, squeezes reflexively. “Why do you pretend? You’re not a good guy.”

  “I’m not a bad guy,” I say.

  “No more than I am? Is that what you think? We’re not the same. I’m smalltime. What I do is no big deal. You live in this big, swanky house out here at an address my GPS can’t find. There’s a difference between us, and it’s huge.” She jerks her hand away from mine.

  “Morally?” I ask her.

  She steps away from me, backing up until she hits a small end table. “I don’t like this. I don’t trust you. I don’t want to deal for you. I just want to go.”

  “Are you sure?” I hear myself ask. “Lots of money here with me. Isn’t that what you’re after, Cleo? Easy money?”

  She nods, then shakes her head. Her face is stormy, like a small, sad child. “I don’t want to work with you.”

  “Good. That’s not my offer.”

  She frowns, as if I’ve tripped her up. “It’s not? What is?”

  I smirk. “Working with me.”

  “Oh.” She swallows. Looks me over again. God, either she thinks I’m fucking hot, or she can’t make up her mind if I’m a threat or not. Out of nowhere, she shrieks, and starts to whirl around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. “My gun! Where is it? You stole my gun! Fuck you!”

  I grab her shoulder. Hold the gun out. She grabs it with both hands and backs against the wall.

  “Miss Whatley. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She shakes the gun. “Unloaded!”

  “What did you expect?” I ask her wryly. “I’m fallible, believe it or not. You shoot, I bleed. We’re a long way from the hospital.”

  She shakes her head, and I’m a little surprised to see a tear fall down her cheek. “I made a big mistake. I wish I’d never come here.”

  “Don’t wish that.”

  “I do. I wish I’d never come here. Then I’d still be safe!”

  I put a finger over my mouth. “We don’t want to scare Maureen.”

  “I do!”

  “No. You really don’t.” I step closer to her. As I move, I hold her gaze. As soon as I can get my hands on her, I grab her shoulders. Gently.

  “Cleo,” I say. “Look at me.”

  I can feel her eyes flit over my face. I let my eyes slip shut, just fractionally.

  “I’m looking at you.” Her voice wobbles.

  “What do you see?”

  I let my hungry hand rise up, my fingertips playing at the nape of her neck. The light touch makes her shiver, and I can feel my cock get hard. I shift my weight a little, so it’s not pressed against her. Eye contact. Calming someone down is a lot about the eye contact.

  “Your eyes are blue,” she whispers.

  “Yes. And yours are green.”

  She nods. Her eyes are wide, almost as if she’s hypnotized.

  “I like green eyes,” I murmur.

  She scowls. “You’re lying.”

  I laugh, because her scowling face is so unhappy. “No I’m not.”

  She pulls away from me again, looking less uptight but still skeptical. I catch her hand and fold mine over it. “Come upstairs with me.”

  “Are you kidding?” She looks down at our joined hands, as if she’s not sure how that happened, then back up at me.

  “Not kidding.”

  She holds our hands up, looking at mine like she doesn’t trust it. “You’ll probably throw me out the window, you— you criminal.”

  I smile. “You’re a criminal, just like me. You’re the dealer. I’m just the supplier. My job is the easiest.”

  She swings our joined hands. “That tells me right off that you’re sketchy. I can’t imagine who you have to know to think that smuggling weed into the state of Georgia is easier than selling it to a bunch of college students who want to get high.”

  I shrug. It’s true. She can’t imagine.

  “Come upstairs with me.”

  Her face is wary. “Tell me why.”

  “I want to show you a room. A room that could be yours if you decide to deal for me.”

  Her mouth forms a perfect, round ‘o’. “I’d have to live here?”

  “Only for a month or so. Until I get to know you. So we can trust each other.” She’s still frowning, so I try my best to put her mind at ease. “There’s a lot of money in this, Cleo. You could still be part of your sorority. Still be treasurer, even.” I smirk at that, because of course she would be treasurer. The little moneygrubber. “But for a month, you would live here. You’d go back and forth to school with me. Maybe even tell people you’re dating me. And during that time, I would train you.”

  I know my face will betray me some. I just can’t help it. When I look at her, all I see is her arms stretched above her head. The way her full breasts fall sideways on her narrow chest as her body hangs, partially suspended from the ceiling. She won’t know that. Not when I take her upstairs and show her my special guest room. She won’t see what’s in the ceiling, behind the stylized indention in the center, the one that looks as if it’s simply there for decoration.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. Almost two months. But Cleo is perfect.

  Maybe that’s why I hate her so much for stealing my business.

  Nothing to do with business. Everything to do with sex.

  I run a hand up her back, steering her around the couch and toward the rear stairway. “Come upstairs with me. Just see the view. If you don’t like it, we’ll come down—and you can leave.”

  It’s a lie, of course. She’s not leaving. Not until she works for me.

  We climb the stairs together. I talk, entertaining her. And for the first time in a long time, I feel…almost well.

  #

  Sloth will be a full-length novel, which I’ll release on the regular sales platforms sometime near the end of the year. Here’s the fun thing: before then, I’ll be posting a chapter per week on my blog. Some weeks, maybe two chapters. I’m not sure how long I can drag it out. Kellan has so many secrets… They’re driving me crazy. ;)

  My blog is www.ellajamesbooks.com. I’ll post new content every Friday, starting September 5.

  Wa
nt to know what sinfully sexy novel I’m writing after Sloth? I’ll post the cover and blurb during this Facebook party September 30. Go ahead and join! https://www.facebook.com/events/309422565897331/

  In the meantime, try my erotic fairy tales. Red & Wolfe Part 1 is free! http://www.amazon.com/Red-Wolfe-Part-Erotic-Fairy-ebook/dp/B00K90J2MI

  Oh, and stalk me. www.facebook.com/ellajamesauthorpage and twitter handle author_ellaj

  Tattered Angel

  Skylar Cross

  Chapter 1

  She knocked me out cold the first time I saw her.

  Those eyes ... I fell right into them.

  Tripping. Falling. Downward. The core of my soul slipping away.

  Nobody had ever done that to me before. Just reached into me like that.

  Me.

  Damien Cage.

  Rock star front man of the Platinum-selling band Eon Sphinx.

  There is no fucking way a girl like Marcellina Montero could break me down—tear me in two, shred me—then leave me the empty husk that I am now.

  Are you fucking kidding me? I eat girls like Marcellina Montero for lunch.

  No fucking way.

  And yet she did.

  * * *

  Phoenix, 2:12 p.m.

  I always love landing in Phoenix. Majestic purple mountains in the distance. They make me think of Mars for some reason. Not that I’ve ever been to Mars. Although, one night tripping ... oh, never mind.

  Two girls are on either side of me, the three of us tucked into first-class seats. Fuck if I can remember their names right now. All I know is the one on my left has a pierced left tit and the one on my right is wearing a butt plug with a diamond in it.

  All three of us are exhausted, having fucked ourselves into a supreme mess the night before. And this morning. Throw in a blowjob from Diamond Butt Plug in the tiny airplane bathroom.

  Hey, I’m Damien Cage. I fuck girls. It’s what I do. I’m a rock star.

  Think I need a pussy break, though. Can’t seem to taste it anymore. If there’s one thing I love, its smoldering gash juice.

  Lately, my tongue just isn’t working or some shit. I ate out both of these chicks like a madman, but couldn’t get any flavor. I’m okay with food, just not my favorite elixir. Maybe I need to call my doctor back home in Miami and fly him out here.

  We were supposed to have been on the bus with the others back in Santa Fe, but we got sidetracked. Pierced-Tit had never heard of the Puye cliff dwellings of the Santa Clara Pueblos.

  So, I showed her. It’s a must-see. Anna Price, my tour and public relations manager, was fucking pissed.

  Fuck her.

  I needed to educate a poor, tit-pierced slut about a proud people and their history. We took too long ... so what? Not hard to do there. So I told Anna to get the bus on the road. The girls and I would spend the night in Santa Fe and catch a flight the next day to Phoenix.

  No problem. I’m Damien Cage, rock star, remember? I get what I want when I want it. All it took was a call to Jason Everton, Anna’s assistant. I try not to speak to Anna Price as much as possible. Personality of a Third World dictator-general. Jason is my saving grace. He makes my life easier by acting as a buffer between the two of us. Good kid.

  As the plane taxis to the terminal, I look at the two girls I’m with. God, I love girls. I really do.

  However, lately I’ve been astounded by their stupidity. I’m usually not picky, but once the banging is over I just want them to go the fuck away.

  Yet they don’t … so I usually end up kicking them out.

  Whatever. Goes with being a rock star, I guess.

  Although, I’m beginning to believe that all women are dumb. Hot ones, anyway. I always thought that a bright, shining star would emerge from the pack, with a rapt intelligence hidden inside a body with an ass that won’t quit.

  Seven years at this touring gig and no such luck.

  Sometimes, I can’t wait to be alone with Jason, who is well-read and insightful. I’ve taken him under my wing, somewhat away from Anna Price’s domination. We talk about self-empowerment, history, politics, culture, social hierarchy. Shit, in many ways he’s become my best friend. Lots of ambition. Full of energy. Gets shit done.

  The plane stops,. The jetway extends.

  “Yo, wake the fuck up!” I say to Pierced-Tit. She grumbles and shifts a little.

  I turn to my right. “Yo! Up!” I say to Diamond Butt Plug. Nothing. No movement.

  Fuck this!

  I undo my seatbelt and get up, throwing both girls off me.

  “What the fuck?” says Pierced-Tit. Diamond Butt Plug just rubs her head.

  All our stuff is on the tour bus, so we have no luggage. That’s a plus. And we’re in first class, which means we’ll be the first ones off the plane.

  Unfortunately, I don’t have my usual disguise with me—a light denim jacket and a Cincinnati Cubs baseball cap usually get me through airports without attention—which means I’m going to have to walk through the airport as Damien Cage.

  Might get ugly.

  All we need to do is get to the limo Jason set up for me on the lower level. I’ve been to Phoenix many times, so I know exactly where it is. I think I might even remember a shortcut.

  The girls finally get their act together. They both look like shit. I love it when a girl looks like shit after a good Cage reaming. How life should be.

  Hmm, how to do this? Maybe I should hold them in front of me as we walk.

  Oh, fuck it. I’ll just deal.

  If anyone asks me for an autograph, I’ll do it. I have to. It’s what I do. My fans got me where I am, so I will always stop and sign.

  “Have a nice day,” the brunette flight attendant says, with a big smile and fuck me eyes.

  The three of us walk through the jet way to the terminal. The heat is incredible.

  It doesn’t take long. Seconds after stepping off the jetway, arm-in-arm with the half-awake girls, two bouncy blondes run up to me.

  Lots of ‘ohmigods’ and ‘it’s Damien Cages’.

  Suddenly, we’re surrounded by a gaggle of teenagers, holding out pieces of paper. One kisses me on the cheek.

  Okay, how to do this? I’m going to walk and sign. Walk and sign.

  Pierced-Tit and Diamond Butt Plug aren’t with the program yet. So I lead like a dancer leads. Left foot forward. Sign. Right foot forward. Sign. Left foot forward. Sign.

  Better now. We’re developing a rhythm. Almost to the door. We’re almost out of the security area.

  Not like that means anything because outside the security area a new gaggle of teens have formed. Word spreads fast.

  Shit, what do I do? Blow past them? Say it’s an emergency?

  No, I gotta stop. They’re my fans. So I stop; I can’t help it.

  After about ten minutes the crowd is so large that airport security moves in.

  “Okay, folks, break it up,” says one cop. “We have a security issue here.”

  I see Jason Everton walking toward me. Tall, good-looking black kid with soft features. Tough but effeminate. Weird combination, yet it works. Jason knows how to handle situations.

  “Hey!” he shouts. “Mr. Cage cannot sign any more autographs right now.”

  “Okay, ladies,” I say. “I gotta go. Thanks for everything!”

  Three girls have broken into our biggest hit: “Drifting in the Sky”. Reached #3 on the Billboard charts last year. (Fucking pisses me off we didn’t make #1. Yet.) Soon it seems like everyone in the terminal is joining in. Jason effeminately rolls his eyes.

  Two cops stand on either side of the escalator that leads down to the lower level, motioning us through. Looks quiet down there, thank God. Going down the escalator, Pierced-Tit and Diamond Butt Plug flop into me again. Another effeminate eye roll from Jason.

  “You have a meeting with Anna,” says Jason. “Four p.m., remember?”

  “Fuck Anna,” I say. “What the fuck does she want to meet about?”

  “It’s Trent. He’
s at it again.”

  “Fuck!” The escalator reaches the bottom. I’m about to take my first step forward when I see them.

  The eyes.

  Big and brown-yellow. Like they’re glowing from within. Surrounded by the most gorgeous face I’ve ever seen. Black hair with golden highlights. Big, thick lips. Delicious nub of a nose. High cheekbones. Dark eyebrows that slant upwards. Light caramel skin.

  And ... what is that? Could it be ... a flash of intelligence behind those amazing eyes?

  I’m instantly hypnotized. So much so that I completely miss her fist as it slams into my face … hard.

  Pow!

  I sway backwards, my arms splaying. My head hits the cold tile of the terminal floor.

  I told you.

  She knocked me out cold the first time I saw her.

  I wasn’t kidding.

  Chapter 2

  I wake up in the ambulance. The first thing I see is Jason’s head almost banging the roof even though he’s sitting. A female EMT with red hair sits to my left. Freckles. A little heavy. Face full of warmth. About forty. She smiles at me. Bad teeth.

  “What the fuck?” I say, looking at the I.V. tubes in my arm.

  “You’re all right, Mr. Cage,” she says. “You may have a concussion so we’re just taking you to the hospital to get cleared by a doctor.” She takes out a penlight and opens up each of my eyes, shining the light right in.

  Fucking bright.

  “I think you just got the wind knocked out of you, that’s all,” she says. “No pupil dilation.”

  I look at Jason. “What the fuck happened?”

  “Some dumb slut punched you in the face,” says Jason. “You went backward and knocked your head on the floor. Police have her and her male cousin in custody. Anna is already filing assault charges.”

  The EMT looks at Jason like he’s stealing her spotlight. He just glares back at her.

  “Why did she do it?” I say.