Double Contact Read online

  I cocked a brow. “Nothing left for me in Miami? Is this some kind of joke?” And now I was on my feet. My hands curled at my sides.

  “Trust me, son, when I say that there is nothing funny about this particular situation.” He pulled an envelope from his inside pocket and tossed it onto my desk. “Clear out, Jax, before there’s more bloodshed. You’re finished in Miami. I wish the circumstances were different, but that’s how things are done around here.”

  He snagged a peppermint candy from the jar on my desk, and then turned on his heel.

  “I really like you, kid, and trust me when I tell you that I hate seeing you go out like this, but it’s your only option.”

  I thought about telling him to fuck off as he strode towards the door, instead I took a deep breath. I scooped up the envelope and dug inside for the contents. The letter was signed by the mayor, and the message was quite clear. I am fucked.

  Annoyed, I sagged into my chair and then pulled the bottle of whiskey from my bottom drawer, where I kept the good stuff. It was the bottle my mother had given me when I opened this place.

  I poured a little bit into my tumbler and swirled it around, before taking a long drink. I relished the burn. Pushing to my feet, a hundred thoughts raced in my mind. I stood staring out my window overlooking the ocean. How was it possible that I’d managed to operate one of the most successful hotels in South Beach and now I was being forced to give it all up? For something that was out of my control. My hand shook as I raised the glass to my lips again.

  Fuck it.

  I’d sell this place, and build a bigger hotel—a resort. I’d have a chain of properties.

  I stared at my reflection in the glass, raising a toast to myself despite the fact that I was dying inside. Here’s to another new beginning.

  Purchase Wicked Gentleman now, by tapping the title.

  PREVIEW OF FADED

  A Forbidden Sports Romance

  Chapter One

  Sadie

  Sweat drips into my eyes as I bounce on the balls of my feet.

  I’m going to destroy this chick. Her pride is on the line. Not mine.

  Sharon doesn’t want me to humiliate her in front of her adoring fans. But screw that, I’ve been waiting for this moment.

  When I found out Dash Hastings, the legend and owner of the best gym in all of Southern California was coming to my fight, I knew I had to lay it all on the line.

  I don’t think about the fact that her right knee is weak. Rumors of a torn ACL were rampant around the Venice scene.

  Mentally I check myself and shake off the thoughts of Sharon’s injury.

  It’s just business. Focus.

  She gets a jab at my cheek.

  That won’t happen again.

  I bob and weave and swing with a right hook. The blow connects with her jaw and her head snaps to the side.

  Take that.

  Hurling myself forward I shoot out an uppercut that sends Sharon stumbling back. Trading punches and circling one another, that’s how this round has gone. That’s about to change.

  Sharon creeps toward me. I almost want to laugh at her intimidation technique. If that’s even what you can call it.

  The cheers and chants ripple over the crowd in the ballroom, which only amps me up.

  I step to the right and Sharon shifts left. That’s when I see Dash.

  He’s really here!

  My eyes stray for a moment too long, and I feel the sharp pain as Sharon connects with my jaw. The blow sends my head snapping back.

  I recover quickly with a quick shake.

  One. Two. Three punches is all I get off before the bell rings.

  “Fuck you, bitch.” Sharon steps up to me. “About time you show up to this fight.”

  I chuckle. “Screw you, Sharon. I can do this all night.”

  “Back to your corners, ladies,” Artie, the ref yells.

  “Sadie, come on girl,” Kat, my sister, and my manager shouts. “Don’t lose focus.”

  I walk back toward my corner and Kat tells me the same stuff. “She’s coming at your from the left side because that right knee is weak.”

  I shake my head. “I’m beating her with a weakness.”

  “Oh come on, she shouldn’t be fighting if she’s hurt.” Kat applies the ointment to my cheeks and brows.

  “I’m going to beat her my way.”

  Vanessa, my other sister, checks the cuts and bruises. “She got you pretty good on the chin. Keep those fists up.”

  Kat’s a retired mixed martial arts champion. Vanessa’s a concierge doctor with an extremely specific clientele—wealthy and lots of secrets. I’d work out with Kat sometimes, and I even sparred with the guys at the gym where she trained.

  Kat said I had natural talent, and that’s when she hired my coach, Warren Burke. I trained with Warren for my entire career until his sudden death last month. With the Olympics on the horizon I need a new coach.

  That’s where Dash Hastings comes in. I want to train with him because I know the can take me to the next level—Olympic Champion.

  The bell rings out and I jump up off the stool.

  “Come on Slayer,” Vanessa shouts.

  Sadie ‘The Slayer’ Messinick. Sometimes people just call me Sadie Slayer. No cute nickname for me.

  Sharon comes out swinging. She lands a punch to my face.

  “First blood,” she chuckles.

  Embarrassment and rage course through me. I surge forward pining her against the ropes. Strike after strike I beat the living daylights out of her. Sharon gets my ear and I land a few punches to her ribs.

  “Move, move.”

  “Circle left.”

  “Good. Nice one.”

  We continue the fight. Exhaustion is taking hold. I know if I’m tired, she’s got to be running on fumes. At this point all I have to do is let her swing and miss.

  And when I can, I’ll get my jabs in.

  Sharon maneuvers and swings. Same damn movement.

  Predictable.

  I bob and weave and get out of her way. Sharon keeps swinging and I keep ducking.

  “Make the adjustment,” Vanessa calls out.

  I shift and move to the left. Two. Four. Six punches and I’ve got her pinned to the ropes again.

  Blow by blow into her ribs. She’s hanging onto my body trying to push forward.

  Before I know it, the ref is pulling us apart. “Keep the punches up. Final ten seconds.”

  As soon as I have a clean shot, I take it. It lands just below her right eye. Blood slides down her cheekbone.

  Finish this.

  Before the bell rings, my fists lift, and I strike. Two blows is all it takes for Sharon to crumple to the mat.

  Pride swells in my chest as I walk over to my corner. After Vanessa removes my mouth guard, she lifts the water bottle to my mouth.

  “Great job, Sadie,” Kat says as she hands me a towel and Vanessa starts unlacing my gloves. Despite the aching throb in my ear and the pain in my eye, I don’t hide my smile.

  I try to catch my breath while my sisters tell me all the things I did right. There’s not much time to get cleaned up for the cameras, but I do my best.

  “Time to go,” Vanessa says.

  I hop to the middle of the ring and the ref grabs my wrist.

  “Winner by unanimous decision . . . Sadie Messinick,” the announcer drawls out my name as I step forward with my arms in the air.

  Hell yeah.

  BOOKS BY CHRISTY PASTORE

  The Scripted Duet

  Unscripted

  Perfectly Scripted

  The Harbour Series

  Bound to Me

  Healed by You

  Return to Us

  Standalone Novels

  Fifteen Weekends

  Wicked Gentleman

  The First Lights

  Royal Gentleman

  The Cardwell Family Series

  Beautiful March

  Sweet Agony

  Copper Lining - Coming
in 2021

  Novellas

  Double Contact

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  International Bestselling Author and self-proclaimed french fry addict, Christy Pastore writes sexy, contemporary romance books that contain no nonsense (mostly) heroines and swoony gentleman with a naughty side. Readers so overwhelmingly embraced one Wicked Gentleman, Jackson Hart specifically, turning many of her #AuthorGoals into a reality.

  When Christy’s not turning her risqué thoughts into something worth reading, you’ll find her geeking out on all things pop culture, obsessively stalking Pinterest for home interior ideas, lunching with friends, or researching her next vacation destination.

  She has strong opinions about folding laundry, fruity wines, the Oxford Comma, fashion, and mixed vegetables.

  Christy lives in central Indiana with her husband and their two loveable ginger kitties, Cheeto and Dorito. But as cute as they are, please send scratching posts asap because they’re slowly destroying the furniture.

  To be the first to know of upcoming releases, please join Christy’s Newsletter (Always Spam Free).

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  From the Desk of

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  End of Book Note

  Beautiful March Excerpt

  Wicked Gentleman Excerpt

  Preview of Faded

  Books By Christy Pastore

  About Christy Pastore