How do you make evil men suffer for their disgusting acts when you have no experience in the art of torture?
Trouble is, life gets in the way of Nya's big plans. Archer's dragging his feet. Tag's crossed a line. And Nya Yorke is spending too much time playing referee between the men in her life.
Help comes to her in the most unlikely form... Hexam. Making an alliance with the man who once wanted to murder her best friend, could give her what she needs, but selling her soul to the devil comes with a price, and the deal is done before she realizes that price is too high.
Warning: Contains explicit language and imagery. Suitable only for ages 18 and over.
Excerpt from Scarred...
"Can you come over?" she asked, sauntering towards him and sliding her arms under his to loop them around him.
Tucking her thumbs into his waistband at the back of his jeans, she curled her fingers around the horizontal sheath containing his knife that was always present on his belt, and squashed herself into him. He was the only guy allowed to carry a weapon in Sizzle.
"Tomorrow," he said. "I'll come over tomorrow."
Aware that it may appear petulant, Nya exhaled and stuck out her bottom lip. "This is crazy, Fella, I never see you. I want you to come over. I want to be with you."
"It's been three days, Squirm. You knew the script when we hooked up."
"But we're not hooking up!"
Having gorged herself on his body at any time of her choosing for weeks, she'd been spoiled with his attention. That over-indulgence had been reduced to a famine and she had felt the pinch from the very first night.
That her sulk entertained him only frustrated her further. But she didn't pull away when his fingers scooped under her chin. "It's temporary, Squirm."
Unsatisfied, she enjoyed his touch, but was still disappointed. "Until the next job," she muttered.
His amusement reached its limit and his temper soured. "Yeah, until the next one. What do you want me to do? Stop working?" he asked, opening his hands at his sides.
His job wasn't what bothered her, it was their separation. "No," she said. "But you could let me come over."