Chapter One
Shane
She had been thinner back when they’d been married, but the new curves made her even more stunning. Shane forced a smile and nodded her way, hoping she’d go on and spend the rest of the evening pretending he didn’t exist; he’d certainly planned to do the same.
However, unexpectedly, his ex-wife crossed the room and there she was, next to him, her huge new, and definitely fake tits practically resting on the bar.
“Hi handsome. Long time no see.”
“What do you want Fiona?”
She gave him her trademark smile, tossing her blond hair.
“I don’t know… How about a fuck, for old time sake?”
Shane saw right through it. She’d tried the same thing three years ago, when the guy she’d left him for had found himself unable to pay for her shopping sprees.
At the time, he’d pushed her away, knowing just what she was trying to do: get him back.
Now, he knew there was no way, no way in hell, that would ever happened, so he smirked.
Oh, yes. A fuck for old time’s sake sounded pretty damn amazing.
He paid for the most expensive room in the most exclusive hotel, making a point of showing her just what she’d thrown away, and then, he took her. Against a wall, on a sofa, on the balcony. He fucked her so hard she yelled, making her reach three mind blowing orgasms.
Shane chuckled when he was done; he hadn’t been that happy in years.
Three years.
He grabbed every single bill out of his wallet and left them next to her, generously paying for her service, before leaving the room.
Whoever said revenge was best served cold had obviously not tried it hot and heavy.
•
He didn’t feel that good the next day, when the alcohol had left his system.
Fuck. There was a reason why he didn’t get plastered on a regular basis.
Sure, Fiona was going to be seething, embarrassed and angry when she woke up – just like he had been – but on the other hand… he’d fucked her.
Shit. He couldn’t believe he’d done that viper again. He really needed to get his shit together.
Shane scrubbed himself hard, in the hottest shower he could withstand. If memory served, he’d used a condom, so there was that to be thankful for; but he still felt soiled, dirty down to the soul.
When he made it out of the bathroom, a text was waiting for him, cheering him up.
Damn; sometimes, mothers were a wonderful thing.
Shane avoided turning up at his parents’ place when he was expected, since the time they'd invited every single eligible women and called it a “dinner party.”
It had been a trap, end of story.
They meant well, he knew that. Their marriage had been the stuff of fairy tale, with a side dish of yelling and shooting water pistol when they drove each other to the brink of madness – and needless to say, all of that was seasoned with a fair bit of make-up sex.
The Vaughan siblings knew to make themselves scarce pretty damn quick whenever the parental unit headed towards the bedroom in broad daylight.
As they had it all, they truly believed that a happily ever after was waiting in the side line for everyone.
Shane had been there, done that, and nothing, nothing would ever make him stand down the aisle again.
Today, he was safe: he didn’t give his mother any warning. Just turning up could be dangerous, as the parents could fuck like bunnies, but he risked it nonetheless.
He needed to: his mother had made brownies.
No one could understand just how important that particular trip was, until they’d tried Mara Vaughan’s soft, slightly gooey, buttery brownie filled with walnut and whatever secret ingredient she rammed in there.
He’d just parked on the driveway when his phone bipped, indicating an incoming text from Jack.
Need to run something by you, are you home?
Shane hesitated a second; sharing brownies was no joking matter.
I’m at the parents. Mum baked.
The response came faster than light.
On my way.
Jack Barnes was as welcome as Shane in
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