Pleasured by you, p.1
Pleasured by You, page 1
part #3 of Wellspring Series
Also by Elle Wright
The Wellspring Series
Touched by You
Enticed by You
Pleasured by You
Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.
PLEASURED BY YOU
Elle Wright
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Also by Elle Wright
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Teaser chapter
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
DAFINA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2018 by Elle Wright
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Dafina and the Dafina logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-1-4967-1604-0
ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-1605-7 (e-book)
ISBN-10: 1-4967-1605-1 (e-book)
For Jason, my husband and friend.
Your constant support means the world to me.
Love you!
Acknowledgments
Dreaming up Bryson and Jordan’s journey was an unforgettable experience. Pleasured by You proved to be one of the most difficult books I’ve ever had to write. Tapping into Bryson’s pain took the wind out of my sails often, but I’m so glad that he finally got his happy ending. I hope you enjoy it! I appreciate all of your love and support.
Giving honor to God, who is able to do anything. His Grace and Mercy brought me through. I am living this moment because of Him.
To my husband, Jason, I can’t imagine my life without you. I’m still pleasured by you.
To my children, Asante, Kaia, and Masai. Every day you surprise me with your intelligence, your wit, your humanity, your courage, and your capacity to love. Keep being who you are. Keep God first. Love you!
To my family and friends, thank you for your unwavering support. My life is brighter because of you. Thanks for being #TeamElle!
To my Seester Sister, LaDonna, I’m just going to say that you’re the BOMB! Thanks for rolling with me! Love you!
To my hairstylist extraordinaire, Stacie, thank you for your listening ear and your encouragement. You have inspired me to create Stacyee and I can’t wait for you to read her journey. I’m blessed to call you a friend.
To my lit sisters, and Once Upon a Series crew, Sheryl Lister, Sherelle Green, and Angela Seals; let’s get it. I can’t wait to do more. Love y’all!
To my Book Euphoria ladies, you are #SoDope.
To #EllesBelles, my street team, thank you so much for rocking with me.
To my agent, Sara Camilli, thank you for being in my corner always! Appreciate you.
To my editor, Selena James, thank you for your understanding and your encouragement. I truly appreciate you.
I also want to thank Priscilla C. Johnson and Cilla’s Maniacs, A.C. Arthur, Brenda Kidd-Woodbury (BJBC), MidnightAce Scotty, King Brooks (Black Page Turners), Sharon Blount and BRAB (Building Relationships Around Books), LaShaunda Hoffman (SORMAG), Orsayor Simmons (Book Referees), Tiffany Tyler (Reading in Black and White), Naleighna Kai (Naleighna Kai’s Literary Café and Cavalcade of Authors), Delaney Diamond (RNIC), Wayne Jordan (RIC), Radiah Hubert (Urban Book Reviews), and the EyeCU Reading and Social Network for supporting me. I truly appreciate you all.
Thank you to my readers! You’re amazing! Nothing would be possible without you.
Thank you!
Love,
Elle
Chapter 1
I’m in town, staying at Casa Del Mar. We need to talk.
It had taken Bryson Wells years to find peace, to carve out his own path. Away from his father, away from Wellspring, Michigan, and Wellspring Water Corporation. And one text from his brother, Parker, had transported him back to the life he’d tried to put behind him. Sighing, he stared at his phone. The urge to ignore the text was fierce, but he couldn’t do that to his brother. Instead, he’d thought of a suitable lie. Work. If Parker understood anything, it was work. But when Bryson had opened up the Messenger app to send his reply, he couldn’t do it.
Parker Wells Jr. had done more for Bryson than anyone. He’d taken a lick for Bryson more times than Bryson could even count. As far as big brothers went, Parker was the best. So, he’d simply typed out “give me a few hours,” left work, and hopped on the I-10 to Santa Monica. Now, he was sitting in the restaurant at a luxury hotel waiting on his brother.
It had been several years since he’d seen his siblings, Parker and Brooklyn. By design. For his own sanity. Life in Wellspring, Michigan, had been a nightmare. One that still haunted him. And only because of Parker Wells Sr., his father. Senior, as they called him, was a monster, plain and simple, with no redeemable qualities.
Bryson knew early on that he wouldn’t survive another minute in that house with his father. He’d been subjected to horrors that made his skin crawl, beatings that seemed to last hours, verbal tirades that made his ears bleed. Even now, Bryson had sometimes awoken with a soundless scream in his heart, sweat seeping from his pores, sending silent prayers to God to help him forget.
A waitress smiled as she approached his table, and he greeted her in kind, ordering a cognac, neat. Several minutes later, Bryson was holding the balloon glass in his palm, letting it warm, before tasting it. Damn good.
He nodded to the waitress, signaling he was satisfied with the pour, and she strolled away. Bryson watched the sway of her hips as she departed, and wondered if he could go there. It had been a while since he’d had the company of a woman, and he was wound tight, ready to burst.
Over the past few years, Bryson had spent an inordinate amount of time throwing himself into work. When he’d left Wellspring, he’d given Senior the middle finger, throwing his acceptance letter to Michigan State University in his face and hightailing it out of the house.
Bryson could still hear the shrill shouts of his father as he walked out of that house once and for all. “You’ll be back. You’re nothing without me.” The last words from his father had stayed with him long after he’d hopped in a cab and left Wellspring with nothing but a small suitcase and the clothes on his back.
The satisfaction that he thought he would feel didn’t come, but it hadn’t dampened his resolve. He’d worked hard in high school, busted his ass to win a coveted scholarship to University of Southern California, far away from Michigan and Wellspring and Senior. Bryson had used Senior’s words as a stepping stone to get what he wanted. He majored in civil engineering and minored in construction planning and management, and had recently completed his graduate studies in planning. And he loved his work, he loved his life. I did damn good.
Still, Bryson found himself missing his siblings more and more as the days flew by. He was accomplished, and he yearned to share that with the people who’d loved him through the hardest time of his life. But he knew that stepping foot in that town would be a huge setback for him, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it yet.
Bryson sighed, and finished his glass of cognac. He glanced up, intent on waving the waitress back over to refill it, when he saw her.
He blinked. But when he opened his eyes, she was still there. Jordan Clark.
It couldn’t be a coincidence that Parker was in town, staying at the same hotel as Jordan. Bryson let his gaze wander over her form. Her curly mane was swept to the side, exposing her long neck. Her skin was sun-kissed, golden brown. Jordan wore a pale pink and white strapless dress that fell just above her knees and she carried a small clutch in her hand. Bryson shifted in his seat, unable to stop the groan that escaped. She was stunning, soft, regal. She was everything he remembered about her, and pink was definitely her color. Always had been.
At eleven years old, Senior had yanked Bryson out of his life with his mother in Detroit. After a nasty court battle for custody, his mother had packed him up, kissed him on his forehead, and told him to “be brave” before Senior had dragged him out of the only home he’d ever known. Bryson had known who his father was, had even spent time in Wellspring, mostly because of Brooklyn and Parker’s mother, Marie. But he’d never imagined or expected to live in Wellspring. In fact, it wasn’t until Marie died that Senior decided to pluck him out of his l ife.
Bryson had cried the entire trip, and the days after, until his first day of school. The playground had been filled with kids, playing and enjoying one another. Brooklyn had assured him that she wouldn’t leave him to fend for himself, but his sister had been called to the office during lunch and Bryson had to sit alone. It was Jordan who had joined him at the table that day, and handed him a piece of her apple. She had been one of his first friends in Wellspring. And although their lives were so far apart now, he would never forget that day. Bryson could never forget her.
Bryson smiled to himself when he thought of Jordan at eleven years old. She was an athlete, a star softball player in middle school and high school. But she was also smart and funny. And she’d loved pink, even back then. He was happy to see that hadn’t changed.
Jordan slid onto a barstool and smiled at the bartender. Bryson noted the wide grin on the bartender’s face, and narrowed his eyes on him. The man had to be at least fifty, probably married with a family. So why the hell is he flirting with Jordan? Bryson was just getting ready to find out when Parker walked into the restaurant.
His brother, dressed in a blue three-piece suit and no tie, walked right up to Jordan and pulled her into a hug. Bryson frowned. What the hell? Parker was grinning from ear to ear and Jordan was . . . Well, Jordan was her usual glowing self. And all of her black girl magic shined on his brother. His married brother, at that.
Bryson couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that filled him as he watched his older brother and Jordan interact on the other side of the bar. It definitely wasn’t a coincidence that they were staying at the same hotel. The only question he had now was why. Was it a tryst? Was his brother cheating on his new wife, Kennedi, already?
Bryson had learned early on that there weren’t many people more popular than Parker. His brother had been a football legend in the town, helping Wellspring High place in several divisions and even winning Most Valuable Player titles for three of his four years in high school. Parker was not only popular with the girls, but his stellar grades and community-minded personality made him a favorite with teachers and school administrators.
While Bryson could give Parker a run in academics any day of the week, he could admit that sports weren’t his thing. The only “sport” he’d excelled at was bowling, if that could even be considered a sport. That simple fact had been a bone of contention between Bryson and Senior often, and he had the scars to prove it. And women? Let’s just say Bryson wasn’t voted “Most Likely to Get a Date” in school. But he didn’t care about just any date, either. Back then, he’d only had eyes for Jordan. And judging by the way his body had responded to just the sight of her, he would say that hadn’t changed.
Bryson grumbled a curse under his breath when Parker leaned forward and whispered something to Jordan, which in turn, made her laugh out loud. It was a beautiful sound, melodic. And once again, it was reserved for Parker. Asshole.
A few more torturous moments of watching them, and Bryson wanted to break that shit up. He pulled his wallet out and grabbed a fifty-dollar bill, all the while cursing his brother to hell and back for being so damn charming all the time.
“Bryson.”
Bryson glanced up, surprised that Parker was now standing in front of him. “Parker.” He stood and gave Parker a tight man-hug.
“Good to see you, man,” Parker said.
“You, too.” For some reason, Bryson was overcome with emotion, but he swallowed it down and pulled back. “Have a seat.”
Parker took the seat opposite Bryson, a wide smile on his face. “I see you already started, huh?” Parker motioned to Bryson’s empty glass.
“Long day,” Bryson murmured.
Parker nodded. “I have a lot of those.”
“I bet.” The waitress approached again and took Parker’s order quickly before rushing away. “So how long have you known where I was?” Bryson asked.
Parker shrugged, tapping his finger on the table lightly. “Honestly, I’ve known for months where you were.”
“And you’re just now coming to see me?”
Bryson couldn’t help the tinge of hypocritical hurt that had settled in at Parker’s admission. Sure, Bryson had done a lot to hide his whereabouts from his family, but the knowledge that his brother had known where he was for a while and never attempted to come see him still stung.
“Trust me, brother, I wanted to. But you don’t answer your phone or call, and I’m not too keen on forcing you to do anything you don’t want to do. Good job, by the way, of hiding your tracks.”
Bryson had enrolled at MIT for undergrad, and had even flown to Cambridge as if he was really going to attend the prestigious university. Then, he’d changed his last name and moved to California. He didn’t want to sever all ties to his siblings, so he’d given them a Google Plus number to reach him.
“How did you find me?”
“Carter’s business partner, Martin, helped me.”
Bryson knew that Carter was Brooklyn’s husband. He’d yet to meet the man, but Bryson had Googled him. Everything he’d read about him led him to believe she was in good hands. Which is what mattered to him at the end of the day.
With a new drink now on the table, Bryson took a sip and allowed himself a glance over to Jordan. She still sat at the bar, head down, her barely touched drink next to her.
“I get it,” Parker said, drawing Bryson’s attention back to him. “If you remember, Cali was my goal for awhile, too.”
Bryson did remember. He also remembered that he and Brooklyn were the reasons Parker never made the move. “I know. For what it’s worth, you would love it here.”
His brother chuckled. “Looks like the California sun is treating you well. I’m proud of you.”
Smiling, Bryson thanked Parker. High praise from Parker made him feel good. “What brings you here?”
“Jackson Clark got married today here.”
Ah, that explains it. “Really?”
“Yeah, his daughter Jordan is sitting over there at the bar.” Parker turned and pointed to Jordan. “I know you remember her. Y’all were cool back in the day.”
Bryson cleared his throat and tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed her. “Oh right. That’s her? I didn’t even recognize her,” he lied.
Parker smirked at him, almost as if he wanted to cry foul on Bryson’s statement. “Yeah, she’s all grown up. Beautiful woman.”
“I’m sure not as beautiful as your wife,” Bryson said.
“You’re right about that, brother,” Parker agreed, a smile on his face. “And now she’s even more beautiful now that she’s pregnant.”
“Wow, congrats, big brother. I’m happy for you. I know you’ll be a good father.”
They fell silent for a moment, before Parker said, “I want you to meet Kennedi. She’s in our room, freshening up. The reception is in one of the ballrooms. They should be getting started there soon, after pictures and everything.”
“When are you leaving?” Bryson asked.
“Tomorrow morning. I have a fund-raising event to attend tomorrow evening.” Parker looked outside. “It’s beautiful out here. Weather’s nice, not like the snow and ice in Wellspring.”
Bryson glanced at the beach. March in Santa Monica was usually rainy, but it was sunny and warm. Perfect day for a wedding on the beach. “Was the wedding outside?”
Parker shook his head. “No. Apparently, Jackson’s new wife is from this area and didn’t want to chance the weather.”
“Makes sense. Where’s Brooklyn? Why didn’t she come?”
Parker explained that Brooklyn was in Detroit celebrating Carter’s stepfather’s sixtieth birthday.
“How is Brooklyn?” Bryson asked.
“You know Brooklyn.” Parker smiled. “She’s something else, but she’s happy.”
Every so often, Brooklyn would send Bryson a selfie making a funny face or a picture of her and the crew shooting pool at Brook’s Pub. And although he rarely replied back, he appreciated her attempts to stay in touch.
