Title: Bound For Salvation
Series: Bound Series, Book #2
Author: Kendra Leigh
Genre: Contemporary Adult Romance, Romantic-
Suspense
Release Date: June 15, 2015
Audience: Age 18+ due to mature themes
and sexual content
Hell was hot, but the flames of
deliverance might be the ones to burn …
For the first time in living memory, Angel Lawson feels cherished.
Ethan Wilde has taught her that love is possible for all, even the sinners among
us. The bonds of his love free her from the shackles of her guilt. Inch by inch, he’s
slid under her skin, folding himself around her soul like a soothing blanket. His
love nourishes her starving heart, and his passion fuels the scorching flames of
her deepest desires, driving her to the blissful edge of sweet insanity.
Brick by brick, she tears down the protective wall she’s built around her heart,
and the ice inside begins to thaw.
To Ethan, Angel is the sole reason he exists, the blood in his veins, the drug to his
addiction. He vows to mend her, to help her confront her demons and come to
terms with a buried past that continues to haunt her.
But what lies beneath the surface of Ethan’s past?
Pasts left hidden to rot become dirty secrets. Secrets that can tear even the
strongest love apart.
And secrets have a habit of
revealing themselves when least expected ...
Ethan paused at the foot of the steps to be sure I was shadowing him, and with one hand in his pocket, casually ascended the stairs. I followed at a distance, the way he’d followed me on the first night we met, and as I reached the summit, I caught sight of him disappearing into a room at the end of a wide corridor. The noise from the music and chatter faded into a distant hum as I made my way down the hall, my heart hammering rhythmically against my chest as excitement built up inside me, just as it had that night. The door to the room stood slightly ajar and tentatively, I reached out to push it open. The room was in darkness, but the brightness from the hallway cast a muted light into the room, enough so that I could just make out a large, silver, Las Vegas pool table. It was a games room. Suddenly, the chrome lights above the table flicked on, drawing my attention to the high quality, smooth, black cloth covering the table. Wilde was scrawled in gray writing across the middle. The rest of the room remained in the shadows. I entered the room slowly, a quick glimpse revealing, among other things, a foosball table, a pinball machine, and several vintage arcade games. A proper boys-with-toys room. I couldn’t see Ethan, but his presence was indisputable, like an electrical force field charging the space around me, exerting his force without any tangible contact. Behind me, I heard the sound of the door closing, the key turning in the lock. A combination of apprehension and exhilaration sped through me, a shiver chasing a trail up and down my spine, continuing down and under to my naked, clenching sex. Suddenly, there was a noise from behind me, somewhere to the left in the corner of the room. The sound of a dime being pushed into a coin slot and the whirring of mechanics—a jukebox. I didn’t turn around. Ethan’s imprecise location, the unfamiliar surroundings, the uncertainty of what was about to happen, all seemed to exacerbate my arousal beyond reason, and everything south of my navel began to pulse.
I gazed in bewilderment at the stranger in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. My hair was tangled and unwashed. Dark circles surrounded my red-rimmed eyes, too large for the hollows in my pale, haunted face. Turning away in disgust, I stripped naked and climbed into the shower. The steaming hot water cascaded over my tender, aching body, cleansing and soothing me, both physically and spiritually. When I emerged, I towel dried my hair and put on my robe, knowing I had only seconds to spare. As if on cue, I heard a commotion in the hallway before Ethan burst through the door to my apartment, frantically shouting out my name. He appeared in the doorway of my bedroom from the hallway as I entered from the bathroom and stared transfixed, his eyes wide with fear. The look of torment and suffering etched on his usually seamless face reflected that which I felt, and my heart constricted at the sight of him. His face was pinched, pain and misery evident in every crease and curve of his beautiful features. His bedraggled hair and bloodshot eyes revealed a state of turmoil and sleepless nights. The transformation was devastating. He stood before me, a mere shadow of his usual assertive, confident self, and suddenly my mind reeled with conflicting emotions. I hadn’t expected this. I’d imagined him shameful—remorseful even—that his deceit had been exposed, but this was an image of a broken man. Broken like me. Part of me wanted to run into his arms and kiss away the anguish and the hurt, and the other wanted to scream at him, pound my fists violently into his chest. I did neither. I just stood, rooted to the spot, incapable of any reaction.
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