Condemned Read online

  Condemned

  Barbara Huffert

  Book three in the Cosmic Connections series.

  Brett Hudson’s life is in shambles. An attempt to deny fate has left him wide open for an unscrupulous pair intent on ruining him completely.

  Andrea Sloan knows she and Brett are meant to be together the instant they meet. It takes a while, but finally chance puts her in the right place at the right time to rescue him, then a night of intense sex only complicates things even more.

  Now Brett must salvage what’s left of his life and prove himself worthy of Andie’s love before it’s too late. A little BDSM sex play might be the answer…

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Condemned

  ISBN 9781419933639

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Condemned Copyright © 2011 Barbara Huffert

  Edited by Helen Woodall

  Cover art by Syneca

  Electronic book publication April 2011

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Condemned

  Barbara Huffert

  Dedication

  For my dear friend and fellow author, Taylor Tryst. Thank you for your constant encouragement and unending support.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Big Brother: Big Brothers of America Corp.

  Boy Scouts: Boy Scouts of America Corp.

  Secret Squirrel: Hanna-Barbera Productions, Inc.

  Southern Comfort: Midland Distilleries, Inc.

  Chapter One

  Brett Hudson groaned as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, jarring his body into a sitting position. Even though he shut his eyes tightly against the intruding sunshine, he cursed himself for not closing the blinds the night before when he’d fallen into bed. Or, more likely, judging by the pounding in his head, he should amend that to earlier that morning. In vain he tightened his grip on his head. Too bad he already knew that the pressure of his fingers was no match for the drumline within his skull that awoke the instant he had.

  He had no one to blame but himself. It wasn’t that he’d even had that much to drink. He was just so damn tired after he crawled from his latest blonde’s bed that any alcohol hit him faster than usual. Unfortunately, Brett was as unconvinced by that thought as anyone he might actually try to tell it to would be. Deciding a shower would help more than it would hurt, he forced his legs to carry him to the bathroom. Thank God he’d invested in that coffee maker with the timer. He couldn’t have been too out of it when he got home. He could smell coffee so he had managed to perform that simple task. See? No problem. He was just tired and needed to cut back on his socializing until after he made the move out of the city. Or at least quit stopping for drinks after his date ended.

  Brett stepped under the spray and let the warm water soothe his protesting nerves. Funny how different parts of one body could be in such total conflict with others. As he waited for the throbbing to subside, he was unable to intercept the thoughts he had been pushing aside for months.

  Ever since his best friend Jordan McKade had met Kiley, the love of his life, Brett had been half looking himself, not that he’d ever admit it to anyone. And then, when Jordan’s brother Shane had hooked up with Kiley’s cousin Alyssa, it had only gotten worse.

  Brett let his mind drift. His needs were simple really. A combination of looks, brains, and unquenchable sexual appetite was all he wanted. Why was it so hard to find what he was looking for?

  Six months earlier, they’d all been living in the city, each with their own full-time job commitment, just as Brett was. Now the four of them were easily ensconced in their new realities and Brett was trapped in both worlds. Kiley and Alyssa both urged him repeatedly to walk away from his life in the city even though for some unfathomable reason, he’d let himself promise to ease away gradually over the next six months when he’d resigned. That meant he had two more long, grueling months of commuting between the city with his job in advertising and the small town where he was part-owner and station-manager for a recovering radio station, his and Jordan’s new venture. The frustration that Brett felt at being pulled in such differing directions was building beyond his control.

  Any other time in his life, Brett would have turned to Jordan for encouragement without thinking twice. Now that his friend was married with impending fatherhood getting nearer with each passing day, Brett was hesitant. Jordan spent countless hours researching topics for the late night talk show he’d undertaken at the station. Add to that the few investment accounts he’d kept from his former career and the time he devoted to visiting their dying young friend, Max, and Jordan had more than enough to occupy his life at the moment. Brett would muddle through this stressful period without the aid of his best friend.

  Briefly, Brett debated confiding in Shane. Many times over the years, he’d turned to Jordan’s older brother for advice. Shane had always treated him pretty much the same as he did his biological brother. Too bad for Brett Shane’s life was currently as full as Jordan’s was.

  Brett wrapped the towel around his waist and headed to the kitchen for coffee. He shuddered when he remembered that the charity bachelor auction was scheduled for the next night. The only reason he had let himself get roped into it was the good it would do, not only for the children’s hospital where Max received treatment for the degenerative disease that would soon claim his life but also for the radio station with the exposure his participation would bring. Sadie Brown, the fourth in the investment group that Jordan had formed with him and Shane when the radio station idea had first popped up, insisted that this variety of free publicity was something he simply couldn’t pass on.

  Brett almost smiled at the thought of Sadie. She was a feisty old woman with an opinion on absolutely everything. She and Brett shared a comfortable relationship where they teased each other mercilessly while openly showing their mutual regard. Unfortunately, Sadie’s grandniece, Andrea Sloan, had come to stay with her just before Jordan and Kiley’s wedding. Brett caught her watching him with a besotted expression on her face more times than he felt comfortable with. Not that there was anything wrong with the girl. She was just too mousy for Brett’s tastes. He didn’t want to offend Sadie so, whenever possible, he avoided Andrea.

  He sighed dejectedly as he remembered the conversation a few weeks earlier where Sadie had mentioned that Andrea was planning to attend the auction. Brett feared she would purchase his company for an evening. So far, he’d managed not to be alone with her. If she won the bid, his luck would ru
n out. He dreaded the idea of spending time with her without Sadie providing a buffer.

  The only good thing about the upcoming auction was that Jesse Monroe, the least secretive of Jordan’s investigator friends, would be back from whatever it was that he did during his frequent absences. Jesse might have confided some of his activities to Shane now that they’d become better friends, but for the most part, Brett was still clueless. Jesse was around on occasion, up for an evening of hanging out. Then, he would suddenly vanish for unspecified stretches of time, with little or no explanation.

  Part of the condition for Brett’s participation in the night’s festivities was Jesse’s promise to subject himself to the same treatment. Brett knew from experience that Jesse’s word was true so at least he wasn’t in this event alone. Maybe, if Andrea outbid the others, he’d be able to talk Jesse and his winner into sharing the proposed evening with them. Yes, that was definitely a good idea. It would seem innocent enough while still prohibiting any more personal thoughts Andrea might want to discuss.

  With that possible situation resolved, Brett felt lighter and more ready to face the day. He was still going to spend the next few months feeling inadequate as he divided his time between his two lives but, for the moment, his head was quieter. He vowed to cut back and watch the amount of alcohol he consumed. And he’d come up with a plan that just might keep the peace with Sadie while not blatantly flaunting his lack of interest in her niece. Without intending to, his thoughts returned to Andrea. Too bad the girl didn’t seem willing to settle for simple friendship. She was fine to talk with. He just didn’t want her to get any ideas that went beyond that, no matter how much Sadie hinted at favoring a relationship between the two of them. No, Andrea Sloan simply wasn’t woman enough for him. She had the brains but not the looks and no way did he want to speculate on her capabilities in bed.

  Chapter Two

  “All set for the big event tomorrow?” Brett looked up from his desk to see Craig Sands leaning in the doorway with a sneer on his face.

  “Don’t remind me,” Brett muttered as he reached for the mouse, hoping Craig would take the hint and leave.

  “What?” Craig moved farther into the room. “I’d think a guy like you would relish the chance to strut in front of a room full of women, all begging for a night with you. I’m sure, with your reputation, you’ll bring in a tidy fee for your services.”

  “Knock it off.” Brett checked his annoyance. “It’s for charity and the winner’s donation only gets her a dinner date.”

  “Oh. Sure. I get it.” Craig leered, adding an exaggerated wink. “Guess you gotta play it cool, in case some real dog is the highest bidder.”

  Brett took a deep breath for control and forced a smile. “Right.” This was one individual he wasn’t going to miss. “Look, I’m in the middle of something here. Was there anything in particular that you wanted?”

  “Just making conversation. I don’t get you. You’re outta here in a couple months. I’d be coasting, not still sucking up like you are.”

  “Yeah well.” Brett shrugged, trying to look casual. “I guess I just like to see things finished. Since I’m still being paid to do a job, I figure I should actually do it.”

  Craig tensed momentarily, as if unsure whether he had just been insulted or not. “Playing the game to the end. Whatever will we mere mortals do around here without you?” he asked sarcastically before chuckling and wandered off.

  Brett stared blankly at his computer screen, wondering once again what he had done to cause the hostility he always sensed whenever Craig was nearby. Ever since the first day, when Brett was shown around and introduced to the other associates, there had been tension between them. No matter how hard Brett tried to get to know him at the beginning, Craig seemed to resent his efforts. He was polite enough with his comments and no one else appeared to notice the dissention between them but there was always an underlying current that Brett was aware of. But he only had two months to go and Brett told himself he could put up with anything Craig dished out.

  When the incoming mail icon popped up on Brett’s monitor, he welcomed the distraction. As soon as he clicked the button, he smiled. It was a message from his mystery woman. Back when he was first coerced into the bachelor auction, he started getting emails from someone who asked to remain anonymous. The first had been an introduction, inviting him to play a game with her, saying they’d meet at the auction. If he was unwilling to play along or wanted to end the game at any time, he was instructed to reply with a blank message and the sender promised never to contact him again. If he wanted to continue, all he had to do was open her mail in the future. She said they would all have “Charity Auction” as the message topic. Needless to say, Brett was intrigued. He was sure he could track down the sender if he tried to. Instead, he decided to see where she planned to go with it.

  Before he let himself read her latest message, Brett closed his office door. He wanted privacy, since her last note said she would only contact him one more time before the event. Settling back in his chair, he opened the email.

  Hello, handsome. I’m sure you’ve wondered what the point of this game is. I guess it’s time for some honesty and a confession. First, I’d like to thank you for letting me have fun. Not all men are secure enough to sit back and permit a woman the luxuries you’ve given me.

  Brett took a minute to consider some of her previous messages.

  Amazingly, she’d touched on just about every aspect of his life. Some of her comments had been very opinionated and not at all flattering. Whoever she was, she certainly seemed to have a mind of her own and wasn’t afraid to use it. But who was she and how did she know him so well?

  Turning back to the latest message, Brett continued reading.

  Tomorrow night, when you step into the spotlight, don’t be embarrassed by all the hoots and whistles you’ll draw. Instead, concentrate on me. You’ve inspired so many fantasies. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched you reward someone with your sexy grin. What I wouldn’t do to have you look at me like that! While you’re standing up on the stage, sweep the audience with that smile and know the heat of it is touching me.

  Show me your incredible hands and flex those beautiful fingers of yours. My favorite fantasies include having your hands on me. I can almost feel the pressure as you explore every inch of me. My skin aches for your touch. Every time I watch you sketch, I get so excited. I wish you could dip one of those magical fingers into my slit and feel how wet you make me. Oh how I’d love to feel them teasing my clit! I’m ready to come for you right now, just thinking about it. Sitting across the table from you, once I win the honor of your company for an evening, will be such exquisite torture. The anticipation I’ve been feeling since you agreed to participate has made me determined to outbid the many others who will seek you as their prize. Bidding will be fierce but I will triumph!

  Once again, I offer you the opportunity to stop this. Click reply and I’ll remain silent as someone else claims my few hours of heaven. Perhaps the thought that I’ve been stalking you has crossed your mind by now. Let me assure you, I’m not. I found you quite by accident. When you continually appeared in my path, I was forced to notice. When you kept showing up in increasingly unlikely locations, I began to wonder. When you were places where I was after I heard you say specifically that you intended to be elsewhere, I realized that fate had taken charge. Even though I accept that the cosmic forces have something in mind for us, I understand that you haven’t been having the same experiences that I have.

  If you permit me to bid for your company tomorrow, I promise you I will make no demands other than your presence at an establishment of your choosing. I thought I should mention my fantasies because it’s very likely that you’ll catch me staring at your hands. I only hope I can refrain from drooling. But I implore you to ignore my behavior. I certainly don’t expect anything beyond a friendly dinner for my charitable donation. I may picture us in innumerable intimate situations within my mind b
ut I do know the difference between fantasy and reality.

  I hope my honesty hasn’t frightened you away. I don’t want our meeting to be uncomfortable for you. I’m looking forward to an evening of lively conversation and good food with a charming companion who knows he is more to me than a pretty face with a large wallet. I think you should know that my finances are very secure and I’m not interested in yours, in case you were worried about that as a possible motive for my attention.

  I’m placing control of our situation in your hands and, though I sincerely hope not to receive a reply to this message, I will certainly understand if you decide you don’t want to meet me. I will check my email an hour before the auction so you still have a day to prevent me from bidding. Whatever the outcome, I will cherish the freedom you’ve given me over the past few months. I know I’ve been outspoken at times and my opinions may have overstepped polite society boundaries but that’s me. Have a pleasant evening, handsome. Until tomorrow…

  Brett printed out the email before deleting it. He sat and reread it slowly. So his mystery woman fantasized about him. Wasn’t that interesting? How many times had they been in the same place and he hadn’t noticed her? He’d always prided himself on his ability to observe his surroundings. Now it sounded as though they’d been together often without his ever once sensing her attention. Imagine, a woman hot for him, just from watching his hands. A woman with a mind, capable of having an opinion, admitting she spent time fantasizing about him and clever enough to find a sure way to make him want to discover more about her.

  Did she really think he’d reply and give up the opportunity to meet her at this late stage? No way could he walk away without learning her identity. He had so many questions for her, the first being why she hadn’t ever approached him. If she truly knew him as well as he suspected, she had to realize how attractive she would be to him. He had certainly enjoyed her method of getting his attention. In a way, he was sorry that it was over. He had looked forward to her emails. He’d come to count on her insight over the past months.