Midnight Lies: The Wildefire Series

Charlene Braddock slammed her laptop closed and hurled it across the bedroom. The
hard thud as it crashed against the wall gave her no satisfaction or relief. Jealousy
and bitterness sizzled and burned like acid inside her. After three years of trying
and failing to regain her ex-husband’s affections, she was no closer than the day
he’d shoved the divorce papers in her face and demanded she sign them or else. Remembering
that look in his eyes always made her shiver. He had been furious. Those steely blue
eyes of his had blazed with a passion and intensity she had rarely seen. Instead of
dissolving their marriage, she had wanted to tear off her clothes and let him work
out all that anger and aggression on her body. When Quinn Braddock got worked up,
her libido went into overdrive.

Of course, she’d done nothing of the sort, since she wouldn’t have received the response
she desired. Quinn’s control was legendary. Fury might envelop him but it would never
consume him. He kept his emotions on a tight leash. Even their final argument before
he’d walked out the door for the last time hadn’t produced any drama.
Sure, there had been full-blown anger, but he’d never let himself get out of control.

Not that Quinn was a cold fish. Oh no, there was definitely passion in him. She had
felt and tasted its intensity. Early in their marriage, he had been insatiable. Back
then their apartment had been small and there hadn’t been a wall or flat surface where
they hadn’t screwed like minxes.

His career had ruined them. Long hours of work had left her alone with too much time
on her hands. Quinn was a gifted doctor with an excellent reputation. Nice for him,
but her life had become tedious. When she had complained about her boredom, Quinn’s
solution had been for her to find a job or do volunteer work. She had wanted to laugh
in his face. She was the wife of a physician—she didn’t have to do anything so mundane
or common.

That was the day she’d gone out and had her first fling. Getting back at Quinn that
way had given her immense satisfaction, so she had continued—discreetly, of course—enjoying
the pleasures that illicit relationships could bring. Down-and-dirty sex with a variety
of men brought delicious danger to a whole new level. Unfortunately satisfaction from
each encounter only provided a temporary fix. Charlene had still wanted more. More
of what, she didn’t know. She had only known she wasn’t getting it from Quinn. It
became a vicious circle. The more he pulled away from her, the more she craved his
attention, which increased her need to screw around even more.

It was all his fault. She had hoped one day he would understand that and come back
to her.

Charlene glared over at the ruined laptop. The local online news report confirmed
what she had long feared. Quinn had a new woman in his life. One who was, no doubt,
giving him everything he wanted in the bedroom.

Memories of some of their happier times went through
her mind. Her eyes closed on a shiver of arousal. Vanilla sex with Quinn Braddock
was better than the hard and rough stuff she got from all her other lovers combined.

Still, she loved the hard, often brutal sex play. Her newest lover gave “dangerous
liaisons” a whole new meaning. He certainly had no issues with giving her all she
could take. Sometimes he gave her much more than she could handle. Last time, it had
gotten so rough, she’d been almost afraid she wouldn’t survive. She had begged him
to stop. Not that he had. He had told her his loss of control was because of his desire
for her and not because he liked to inflict pain. She didn’t care what his reasons
were. As long as he provided the pleasure she needed, she would keep him. When that
ended, so would their relationship.

But she wanted Quinn back, too. They could be good together again if he would just
stop being such a tight-ass.

Charlene cursed the day he’d found her with that weasel Nate Lockhart. Not only had
the bastard been a poor substitute for her husband, he’d been ridiculously unimaginative.
Every time he did something to her, he’d ask if she liked it. Hell, he should have
had enough balls not to care.

It had been a mistake to seduce Nate. Having her husband’s friend screwing her brains
out had been fun the first couple of times. Quinn wouldn’t give her the attention
she needed, so it had been another way to get back at him. She’d even gotten off on
it when she had been having sex with Quinn, thinking how delicious it was to have
him inside her where only hours before his friend had been pumping away.

She hadn’t expected Quinn to walk in and find them screwing in Nate’s office. It had
been her little secret, exciting and dangerous.

Quinn’s reaction might have been the most humiliating
part of all. He had laughed. Even now, years later, she could hear that abrupt bark
of laughter. He had seemed genuinely amused and almost relieved. Dammit to hell, how
had it all gone so wrong?

This new woman Quinn was seeing … who was she? Of course, Quinn had dated several
women since they had divorced. He wasn’t a monk. But neither was he one to be caught
on camera with a woman unless he wanted to be. Was this the woman who would finally
take him away from her forever?

The photograph from the fundraiser had been frustratingly bad. The shot showed Quinn’s
profile as he looked down at his companion. But even the bad picture made it look
as though Charlene’s tall, gorgeous ex-husband was enamored of the woman. His half
smile, with that sexy, quirky edge, had been only for the female beside him. The photo
had just shown the back of the woman. Straight, thick hair fell halfway down her back.
She was a blonde. Well, dammit, so was Charlene. And a real one at that. This bitch
probably got her color from a bottle. And she was fat and wore frumpy clothes, too.

Charlene blew out a frustrated sigh. Okay, so she wasn’t exactly fat, but she was
nothing like Charlene, who spent hours each week with a personal trainer, honing her
body to taut, slender perfection.

But at least Charlene was right about the woman’s dress. It was definitely not designer
made and was conservative by anyone’s standards. With Quinn’s talents, he was destined
to move up in his career. He had a reputation to maintain. One would think he would
be more careful in his selection of dates for high-profile events.

On impulse, Charlene grabbed her cellphone from the nightstand. She couldn’t let it
go … she had to try one more time. They’d had some good times, especially at
the beginning. If she could just get him to stop being so uptight. His straight-shooter
Eagle Scout demeanor had been charming at first but had worn thin after a while. Living
with such perfection could be damn irritating.

He answered on the first ring, his groggy “Braddock” telling her she’d woken him.
She refused to feel any guilt for interrupting what was probably much-needed sleep.
This was important, dammit.