Infamous Love: A Black Light Prequel Read online

  Infamous Love

  A Black Light Prequel

  Livia Grant

  Contents

  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

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Also by Livia Grant

  Thank You from Livia

  Copyright © 2016 by Livia Grant

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Published by Black Collar Press

  Editing by Paul Von Karmann

  Cover Artist - Eris Adderly

  Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9982191-0-3

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies and intended for mature readers only. All characters are fictional.

  First Electronic Edition: October, 2016

  Created with Vellum

  For my “Sprint Girls”. I’m so lucky to have you in my life to talk me off the ledge occasionally, and remind me every so often that this author gig is a marathon, not a sprint. Love you Jennifer, Sophie, Myra, Lee and Addison.

  Chapter 1

  Emma’s Journey

  "You seriously can't do this to me, Bianca. This is below low, even for you." Emma hated the hint of fear heard in her voice. She'd be damned if she was going to let her travel companion know how freaked out she was at the thought of making her way home by herself.

  "I swear. You're acting as if you haven't lived here for the last semester. You've been to Paris twice with me. This should be a piece of cake for you by now." The mocking laughter thrown back in her face replaced Emma's fear with anger.

  "You promised me. I told you from the beginning that I didn't speak any French. You swore you'd stick with me to help me travel!"

  "You've been here for five months. I can't help it if you're incapable of learning a foreign language."

  Emma took a deep breath and bit her tongue to keep from saying something she'd regret later. She should have known better than to trust Bianca to keep her word. She never had before, so why should today be different? Still, leaving your friend stranded in a foreign country where she didn't speak the language so you could run off for the weekend with a smooth talking Italian on a motorcycle was low even for Bianca. Then again, they weren't really friends, were they?

  Emma decided to change tactics. "What do you know about this guy? What's his name again? Mario?"

  "You're saying it wrong. It's Marrrio" she whined, rolling the R.

  "Whatever. What about Pieter? Just last week, you were ready to move to France forever to stay with him."

  Her friend got a distasteful look on her face. "Yeah, well Pieter showed me his true colors. He came clean with his women's lingerie fetish when I caught him trying on my panties."

  Having seen Pieter, this information did not come as a surprise to Emma. In fact, it made a lot of sense. "Fine. Then why not go home to John? I know he'd take you back in a heartbeat."

  "John's a boy. I'm ready for a man."

  Emma couldn't stop the snort. "No offense. I've seen Mario and if he's not careful, his motorcycle is going to crush him like a bug. He's pretty skinny for a man."

  Bianca's patience was coming to an end. "Not all of him is skinny, if you get my drift." The sly smile that accompanied her raunchy innuendo painted Bianca as the slut that she was. In spite of having a decent boyfriend waiting for her back in Wisconsin, Bianca had used the five months they'd been studying abroad in France to 'sow her wild oats' as she'd described it. Loosely translated, that meant she had slept with no less than six guys, and those were just the ones Emma knew about.

  Looking into Bianca's eyes, Emma knew she was about to be deserted in Nice, a quaint town along the Mediterranean. She had two days to make her way to Paris in time to take her flight from Paris' Charles de Gaulle airport back home to Madison.

  "Listen, this hotel is nice. Why don't you stay here, ditch your flight and I'll have Mario bring me back here in a few days and we'll go home together then? He's gonna take me over to Florence for a bit of shopping, but...." Bianca cut off abruptly. For the first time in the entire conversation, she appeared guilty.

  "Florence. Seriously? The city I begged you to go with me to last month and you told me was a waste of time? That Florence?" Emma's normally patient demeanor was crumbling. Anger she'd been pushing down for months started to bubble up. A feeling akin to an exploding volcano uncharacteristically erupted from her and she found herself near screaming in the middle of the upscale hotel lobby.

  "You really are a slutty bitch, you know that? You have a wonderful boyfriend waiting for you at home, but you decide to sleep your way across the continent instead. You want to expose yourself to every STD, have at it, but I thought you at least had enough decency to keep your word to me. I told you I didn't speak French and I was coming here to teach classes in English. More importantly, you know damn well I can't stay here and wait for you while you fuck your way across Europe. Some of us don't have a rich daddy who'll buy us another first class ticket home - or who will pay for expensive hotels instead of youth hostels like normal backpacking students. No. Some of us actually have to get back because we have that four-letter word. J-O-B-S. You know I start my TA job next week. I need the money. I can't miss it. So you go off to spend daddy's money in the city I wanted to go to, while I figure out how the hell to get myself home. All I ask is you do me one final favor."

  Bianca at least had the decency to keep her mouth shut while guiltily shuffling her sandal-covered feet. Emma was shaking with emotion. She'd never gone off on anyone as she just had. For once in her life, she had stood up for herself and it felt fucking fantastic.

  Emma wasn't proud of herself, but she spat the hateful words anyway. "The second you get home, drop my class because I don't want to have to look out into the lecture hall and see you sitting there, knowing the only reason you're there is because you think I'll give you an easy A. You should stick with your original game plan of sleeping with your professors for grades. That strategy appears to be working exceptionally well for you."

  The surprise on Bianca's face as the insult hits home reminded Emma she was on new ground. She’d always been the steady friend. The brainiac, studious friend. The pretty, but plump friend. She despised being the friend who got to watch the purses back at the table while the sexy girls went out on the dance floor with the hot guys who asked them to dance.

  Emma was sick of watching the purses.

  Bianca reminded Emma that she had years of bitch practice on her. "You really are a cunt, Emma. I can't believe I thought you were my friend."

  Emma counters, "Me? I'm not acting like a friend? Incredible. Your selfishness knows no bounds."

  Bianca reached down to grab the handle of her expensive luggage, managing to get in the last word. "I was going to buy you a souvenir in Florence, but you can forget that now." And off she flounced towards the revolving front door where Mario with the rolling R waited holding a helmet. Emma smiled knowing how
much Bianca would hate putting on the helmet because it would mash down the curls she had spent twenty minutes perfecting. She also wondered where Marrrio would strap Bianca’s oversized suitcase.

  Once the object of her anger was out of sight, the reality of her situation closed in on Emma. She moved the few feet to the seating area on the fringe of the hotel lobby, and sank into the soft leather couch.

  She would have loved to panic, but she was too cool-headed. Traveling alone without speaking fluent French was going to be stressful, but she'd managed to pick up enough to get by. She also knew she would be able to find people who spoke English to help her if she got into real trouble. It was more the principle of being stranded thousands of miles from home that had Emma upset. And that she continued to let shallow people like Bianca into her life.

  She was about to stand to head to the elevator when two couples drew her attention as they approached. Emma sat back, trying to look casual as they strolled in her direction.

  It didn't take long to figure out what had caught her eye. The couples were picture perfect. They looked as if they'd come from a photo shoot for the front of a Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous magazine.

  The women were both outfitted from head to toe in high-end designer clothes and shoes. Emma was no expert, but she suspected their Gucci purses cost more than she made in a whole semester. The realization depressed her, and only intensified as she turned her attention to the men they were with. They could only be described as pure perfection.

  While the women appeared snooty and arrogant, the men appeared down-to-earth in their khaki slacks, and casual resort style button down shirts. The shorter of the two had thick, long blond hair that just brushed his collar, and a short-trimmed beard. As she watched him from her seat, she noticed the rigid line of displeasure of his jaw when the woman he was with placed a possessive hand on his arm and pulled them to a stop. The haughty bitch informed him, "You didn't tell me you were staying in this part of town. I demand we move to The Four Seasons."

  Emma picked up her New York accent, recognizing it was people like this who gave all Americans a bad reputation abroad. She enjoyed the front row seat to the drama playing out in front of her.

  "Excuse me? You demand? Last time I checked, you hadn't paid for as much as a cup of café au lait in the last two days. I've about had it with your demands Christy."

  Christy's friend decided to do some demanding of her own. "Jaxson, are you going to let Chase talk to Christy like that?" She leaned in to stroke her manicured hand that was dripping with jewels down the chest of the dark haired, taller man.

  Emma was beginning to think the ability to pick up on body language and being a spoiled rich-bitch was mutually exclusive because like Bianca before them, these two women were clueless to the fact that the handsome men they were with were about to blow a gasket as they both continued to disparage the more than beautiful lobby of the Marriott they were currently making a scene in the middle of.

  The blond muscular hunk named Chase blew first, taking the bitch's hand from his arm. "You know what, I think you had a fabulous idea there, Christy." The woman was silly enough to break into a victorious smile, thinking she'd won the argument when it was clear she was about to be dumped. "You and Liz head on over to the Four Seasons."

  She finally faltered. "But, aren't you and Jax coming too?"

  "I don't think so. In fact, this is going to be where we part ways."

  "But... "

  Jaxson had taken a step away from the other bitch with pencil straight hair and equally flat chest. "That goes for you too, Liz. We're done."

  "Why, I never... And just who is going to pay for our rooms?"

  Chase chuckled. "We were with you two days ago when you each got a ten thousand dollar wire from your daddies. I suggest you use some of that."

  "Don't be silly. That's our shopping money."

  "Fine by us. Maybe you'll find a shop that will let you sleep on their floor. Not our problem."

  Emma wanted to clap for the dramatic show the rich girls were portraying as they pretended to be surprised. The bellman was about to pass them on the way to the elevator with all of their bags, but Jaxson stopped him, retrieving two and leaving the rest on the cart. He pulled out a twenty-euro bill and handed it to the bellman.

  "The ladies have unfortunately had something come up and won't be staying after all. Please take this tip to help them back to the front door to hail a cab." He turned to the women and gave them an unemotional farewell. "Safe travels."

  The men each grabbed their bag and boarded the next elevator while the now-deserted women stood in shock. Feeling lighter than she had a few minutes before, Emma rose to go to her own room and pack.

  Chapter 2

  Emma left for the train station early the next morning to ensure she had enough time to find the correct train to Paris. Since Emma didn't have the two-hundred and fifty euros needed to spend another night at the Marriott in Nice, she needed to head to Paris a day early.

  The taxi ride took most of her remaining cash, and she had only one more coach ticket left on her Eurail pass, which also meant she could check her biggest bag, but she had to schlep her own huge backpack onboard to sit in the crowded seats. She tried not to think about where she was going to sleep her final night in Paris.

  In the hour before the train left, Emma went in search of a pastry and latte for breakfast. She was careful to steer clear of the pack of rough-looking teenagers who were harassing some young, cute college-age women who were speaking German. She didn't need that added aggravation.

  As she waited, several announcements were made in French over the PA system. Emma panicked when some of the people waiting with her got up to leave. Was her train delayed or was it moved to leave from another track? As she glanced around nervously trying to figure it out, she caught a glimpse of the two hot guys, Jaxson and Chase, from the Marriott the night before. They seemed more casual today now that they'd lost the sticks of women who'd been with them earlier.

  Something about them felt so familiar. It was more than recognizing them from the hotel. Observing how others watched and pointed at them as they passed, Emma put together that she’d seen them before. She searched her memory trying to place them.

  Knowing they were American and spoke English, Emma wished she were brave enough to ask them for help in finding her train, but that wasn't in the cards. She'd dated a few guys back home in Wisconsin, but these men were in a whole other league. Put her up against anyone in academics, and Emma was unstoppable. Put her in a sexual situation, and Emma crumbled. At least she was intelligent enough to know it would be impossible to speak to the two sexiest men she'd ever seen in person without making a complete fool of herself.

  She'd been so entranced watching the two good-looking men, she'd completely lost track of the four rowdy teenagers until she found them surrounding her, reaching out to grope her as they spoke French she couldn't understand.

  "Knock it off! Leave me alone!" Emma elbowed the largest of the four when he leaned in, rubbing up against her as she felt him fumbling for her purse. At least she'd hidden her passport and plane ticket carefully, but she couldn't afford to lose the last few Euros she had.

  When she felt hands feeling up her breasts from behind, she stopped protecting her money, worried the hoodlums had something more sinister than theft in mind. Her fear was confirmed as they worked in unison to start dragging her towards a nearby private locker area. Emma knew if they got her somewhere hidden, anything could happen. She flailed with all of her strength, but the laughing teens only gripped her harder and moved faster, lifting her off the ground and carrying her towards the lockers.

  Emma filled her lungs with air and screamed as loud as possible, trying to make enough of a scene that the hoodlums would release her. All that happened was a dirty hand got clamped over her mouth to try to stifle her. She bit her assailant, dragging what she assumed was a French curse word from him.

  She closed her eyes and tried to think
of how she'd get out of this mess. They’d almost succeeded in getting her alone when she was unceremoniously dropped the few feet to the concrete. She landed on her ass first, but when the guy supporting her head let go too, it crashed back to connect with the unforgiving floor with a crack.

  Through her confusion, she found herself curled up in the middle of a fistfight happening all around her. She wondered if she was dreaming as she watched the two American hotties punch out two of the assailants. It took them seconds to send all four of the teens running in different directions.

  The most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen peered down at her. She was mesmerized by their intensity long enough that she didn't realize his mouth was moving too.

  "I think we need to call a doctor. She appears unresponsive." Green-eyes spoke. What was his name again? John? Jim?

  "Okay, I'll go in search of help." She recognized that deep voice.

  She eventually snapped out of it to answer them. "I only bumped my head."

  I only bumped my head.

  Those were the best first words she could come up with when talking to the two hottest men on the planet? The bump on her head wasn't making it any easier to speak intelligently.

  "I mean you don't need to get a doctor. I'll be fine."

  She wasn't prepared for the dark-haired hottie to scold her. "What the hell were you doing letting them surround you? Beautiful women traveling alone need to pay more attention."

  Had he used the word beautiful as he spoke of her? He must not have gotten a good look at her.

  She felt his hand lifting her to gently feel the back of her head, checking for injuries. His fingers massaged her scalp sending tingles throughout her body. "You have the start of a goose-egg there. We'd better get you an ice pack and some Tylenol. Can you sit up?"

  Emma didn't trust her voice so she nodded. His blond friend kneeled on the other side of her and together the men gently pulled her to a sitting position. She saw stars for a few seconds, but was surprised to see lingering concern on their handsome faces.