Read Hers Online

Authors: Dawn Robertson

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica

Hers

T
ABLE OF
C
ONTENTS

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OPYRIGHTS

P
ROLOGUE

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HAPTER 1

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HAPTER 2

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HAPTER 3

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HAPTER 4

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HAPTER 5

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HAPTER 6

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HAPTER 7

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HAPTER 8

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HAPTER 9

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HAPTER 10

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HAPTER 11

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HAPTER 12

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HAPTER 13

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HAPTER 14

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HAPTER 15

F
INDING
W
ILLOW
E
XCERPT

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHOR

M
AKE
M
E
F
ORGET
E
XCERPT

L
ILY OF THE
V
ALLEY

H
ERS
Copyright 2013 Dawn Robertson
All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the Author. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

 

Hers is dedicated to:
The misfits.
The freaks.
Those who were told you will never amount to anything in life.
My own personal angel.
My family.
The women who worked tirelessly on this novel with me.
My beta readers, my editor Sarah Daltry, Racher Mizer from Shoutlines Design for all the beautiful graphics, formatting, and the award-winning cover.
To the bloggers who have helped me with this debut including Brandelyn from Seductive Romance Reviews, Stephanie of Stephanie's Book Reports, and so many more.
If I forgot you, I am sorry!
I love you all!
Thank you for supporting my dream & don't stop believing!

 

“It just isn't going to work out. Ya know, long term.” Daniel looked me in the eye. His emerald green eyes I had fallen in love with during our college English class told a different story. It wasn't about the future, or the fact that we came from much too different backgrounds. There was someone else. I had sensed it in the way he would fuck me. The passion which once had been carnal was just missing. I rolled my eyes at him and chucked up two fingers in the peace sign, “deuces Daniel. Get your shit, and get the fuck out.” I couldn't let him see that I cared. I couldn't allow him the satisfaction of knowing my heart was breaking. I couldn't let him see me weak. I didn't let anyone see it.

“Seven, let's talk about this.” He wrapped his muscular pale arm around my waist as I tried to move across the kitchen section of my thrift shop nightmare, studio apartment. I pulled away with such force, that I tripped over my own bare feet. “There isn't anything to talk about. I just want you to go.” I grabbed his overpriced black leather jacket off the couch and threw it at his face with everything I had. Before contact, his arm caught it in mid-air. I was pissed. I needed him to hurt just as bad as I did.

He reached for the door, without looking back. A single tear started to form in my eye, and rage begins to take over. My new instant determinations is to hurt this bastard the way he just crushed me.

“You were a shitty lay anyways,” I scream at him. The door closed without an ounce of reaction from Daniel, it was amazing how he could just turn off his emotions. Erupting in a fit of rage I threw my platform stilettos at the worn white door. When that didn't make me feel any better, I went rummaging through my cabinet in search of something with more meaning. Then I saw it. The vase. Sparkling and and full of the memory of our first anniversary together. He had bought me a dozen multi-colored roses, knowing I could never pick my favorite color when it came to the beautiful flowers. With purpose I lifted it, hurling it across the tiny space and watching it shatter into a million sharp pieces.

There is no fucking way I am cleaning that up right now.
My bare feet pattered across the black and white tiled floor to the closet sized bathroom. Once inside I cranked the shower as hot as the old pipes in my building would supply. Cold water poured as I stripped, starting with the plain white t-shirt that barely covered my tattooed stomach. I tugged at my yoga pants and thong, kicking them into a messy pile on the bathroom floor. Now I stand naked in front of the full length mirror I kept on the back of the cheap wooden door.

Steam rose from the shower, signaling it was finally warm. I broke away from the staring contest I am having with myself in the mirror, or should I say silently pointing out every last flaw I have. Every reason Daniel wouldn't want to be with me. Was it my scars? The tattoos I used to cover them up? Was it the fact that I wasn't a perfect size zero? Or maybe it was just the fact that my life was simply fucked up. I don't have the purebred pedigree his parents want for a bride to be. My hard exterior had always been a front. Seven the emotionally unavailable nomad had finally opened herself up to another living soul, only to be trampled to pieces. Only once in my life had I experienced true heartbreak, from my own parents. The loss of Daniel stung just as bad. I cared more than I would ever admit. I let my walls down for him, and he took advantage of that.

Well marriage wasn't in my plans anyway. So suck on that asshole!

What is in my plan? Fucking taking over the world! Gone would be Seven, the broken daughter of nomad hippies. Losers who couldn't nail down a job if handed a hammer and nail. I had become everything they hated about society. But their biggest problem with me was the fact that I had actually obtained a college education. While most parents encourage their children to take the SAT's and apply to colleges, I had to sneak behind their backs to better myself.

Five Years Later

“Miss James,” the intercom in my office buzzed with Olivia, my assistant's voice.

“Yes, Livie?” I answered, while I finished the last couple keystrokes on my laptop.

“Mr. Stern is here for your two o'clock.” Looking at the clock on my computer screen it read quarter after one, I instantly became annoyed. He is early. I normally like early, but this is just obnoxiously early. What the fuck gives? I picked up my phone, dialing Olivia's private extension and simmer waiting until she answers. I shouldn't take my aggravation out on her, but I do. It is a bad habit, but she is used to it. I don't think anyone can handle me better than my personal assistant. I blow out a breath and count in my head, calming myself down from the pending shitty mood brewing like a hurricane. The line clicks to life with sunshine and unicorns in her overly cheerful hello.

“He is going to have to wait. I have a couple things to wrap up before he can come back.” Slamming the phone down on the desk, I let out a sigh and made my way across the room to the bathroom to freshen myself up. After feverishly working out every detail of the single, biggest deal of my life all morning I looked like a god damn hot mess. My blouse sleeves had been rolled up past my elbows, exposing my sea of tattooed arms. Angels, flowers, and cherry blossoms peek out from under the wrinkled fabric. I was typically very careful to conceal my vast artwork at work, unfortunately I had been swept away into my work far too easily today. Smoothing out the creases in my black dress pants, and slipping my red leather pumps back on, I rolled the white sleeves of my button up blouse back down and ran my fingers through my long chestnut hair before scooping it up into a messy bun.

Last, I grabbed my glasses off the counter. I hate wearing them outside of the office, but was virtually blind without them. The black rimmed emo accents made me seem less predatory during a deal. Little did these business men know, I could eat them for breakfast which was why at twenty-seven years old I virtually ran one of the largest communications corporations, White-Woods Global. Alas, I really need to get to the eye doctor and fucking invest in some damn contacts.
Damn, ain't nobody got time for that
! A chuckle escaped me, as I pulled out the thick black folder containing all my notes and contracts for the buy out of Alexander Mobile. The single biggest deal of my entire career.

By this time on friday, I will ruin Daniel Alexander as I swoop into the board room of his father's company and take the job he has dreamed of since he was a little boy.
How is that for karma, douche-nugget?

Peering into the mirror once more before inviting my impending visitor back, I smack my lips together smoothing my newly applied lipstick, and buzz Olivia. “Send Mr. Stern back please.” Striding around the side of my desk, I make my way across the burgundy carpet, and open the heavy cherry wood door. Plastering a fake smile across my lips for the old sucker. “Mr. Stern, how great to see you.” I extend my hand in greeting. “Likewise Ms. James, I was pleased with the contract you sent over. I've been itching to sell my shares of Alexander Mobile for some time.” Music to my ears. Little does he know, but he is about to drop the majority of his company into my lap right before they become one of the most sought after mobile distributors in the world. But I would never tell the old man that.

“I've had some interest in Alexander Mobile for years, the time is right.” I pull out a chair offering it to the ancient man. Unfortunately for him, he doesn't know my interest in the Alexander's go far beyond business, it is personal. It has been personal since Daniel left me and took up with that trust-fund Barbie doll, Samantha Rockwell. Not that I even really give a shit about him anymore. This is pure revenge, the last nail in my vendetta so I can finally move on with my damn life.

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