At first, I wasn’t sure how I wanted his story to go. Who I wanted his counterpart to be. Then I dug back through some of my old (and I do mean old) stuff that I wrote and never finished and came across something I had labeled ‘duet.’
Then everything started to fall in place and once I started to write this, the words flowed. The scenes were there. The characters sprang to life, often times waking me up in the middle of the night so I could get their voices out.
Gus had so much heartache festering inside of him. He’s such a complex guy and I was anxious to start him, to give him a proper voice. While Jasper wore his pain like a protective shield around him, Gus’ was a diseased wound inside that he never let the world know about.
Which is why I think Naomi was so perfect for him. And wow, did Naomi have some freaking demons. I mean, she battled through it. I hope you loved them as much as I do.
And seriously, I just freaking cannot get enough of Adalyn, for sure, but also Jasper and Gus together.
This series will conclude with two more books, Keith’s and Henry’s stories. I’m starting to note that all my books have a common theme of the forbidden to them and with that these will be no different.
Thanks again for taking the time to read my stuff. Please sign up for my newsletter because that’s the best way to stay on top of all my stuff. You can also find me in my reader group on Facebook and on Instagram.
Love you!
XO,
J. Saman
The Edge of Temptation
Chapter One
Halle
* * *
“No,” I reply emphatically, hoping my tone is stronger than my disposition. “I’m not doing it. Absolutely not. Just no.” I point my finger for emphasis, but I don’t think the gesture is getting me anywhere. Rina just stares at me, the tip of her finger gliding along the lip of her martini glass.
“You’re smiling. If you don’t want to do this, then why are you smiling?”
I sigh. She’s right. I am smiling. But only because it’s so ridiculous. In all the years she’s known me, I’ve never hit on a total stranger. I don’t think I’d have any idea how to even do that. And honestly, I’m just not in the right frame of mind to put in the effort. “It’s funny, that’s all.” I shrug, playing it off. It’s really not funny. The word terrifying comes closer. “But my answer is still no.”
“It’s been, what?” Margot chimes in, her gaze flicking between Rina, Aria, and me like she’s actually trying to figure this out. She’s not. I know where she’s going with this and it’s fucking rhetorical. “A month?”
See? I told you.
“You broke up with Matt a month ago. And you can’t play it off like you’re all upset over it, because we know you’re not.”
“Who says I’m not upset?” I furrow my eyebrows, feigning incredulous, but I can’t quite meet their eyes. “I was with him for two years.”
But she’s right. I’m not upset about Matt. I just don’t have the desire to hit on some random dude at some random bar in the South End of Boston.
“Two useless years,” Rina persists with a roll of her blue eyes before taking a sip of her appletini. She sets her glass down, leaning her small frame back in her chair as she crosses her arms over her chest and purses her lips like she’s pissed off on my behalf. “The guy was a freaking asshole.”
“And a criminal,” Aria adds, tipping back her fancy glass and finishing off the last of her dirty martini, complete with olive. She chews on it slowly, quirking a pointed eyebrow at me. “The cocksucker repeatedly ignored you so he could defraud people.”
“All true.” I can’t even deny it. My ex was a black-hat hacker. And while that might sound all hot and sexy in a mysterious, dangerous way, it isn’t. The piece of shit stole credit card numbers, and not only used them for himself but sold them on the dark web. He was also one of those hacktivists who got his rocks off by working with other degenerate assholes to try and bring down various companies and websites.
In my defense, I didn’t know what he was up to until the FBI came into my place of work, hauled me downtown, and interviewed me for hours. I was so embarrassed, I could hardly show my face at work again. Not only that, but everyone was talking about me. Either with pity or suspicion in their eyes, like I was a criminal right along with him.
Matt had a regular job as a red-team specialist—legit hackers who are paid by companies to go in and try to penetrate their systems. I assumed all that time he spent on his computer at night was him working hard to get ahead. At least that was his perpetual excuse when challenged.
Nothing makes you feel more naïve than discovering the man you had been engaged to is actually a criminal who was stealing from people. And committing said thefts while living with you.
I looked up one of the people the FBI had mentioned in relation to Matt’s criminal activities. The woman had a weird name that stuck out to me for me some reason, and when I found her, I learned she was a widow with three grandchildren, a son in the military, and was a recently retired nurse. It made me sick to my stomach. Still does when I think about it.
I told the FBI everything I knew, which was nothing. I explained that I had ended things with Matt three days prior to them arresting him. Pure coincidence. I was fed up with the monotony of our relationship. Of being engaged and never discussing or planning our wedding. Of living with someone I never saw because he was always locked away in his office, too preoccupied with his computer to pay me even an ounce of attention. But really, deep down, I knew I wasn’t in love with him anymore.
I didn’t even shed a tear over our breakup. In fact, I was more relieved than anything. I knew I had dodged a bullet getting out when I did.
And then the FBI showed up.
“I ended it with him. Before I knew he was a total and complete loser,” I tack on, feeling more defensive about the situation than I care to admit. Shifting my weight on my uncomfortable wooden chair, I cross my legs at the knee and stare sightlessly out into the bar.
“And we applaud you for that,” Rina says, nudging Margot and then Aria in the shoulders, forcing them to concur. “It was the absolute right thing to do. But you’ve been miserable and mopey and very . . .”
“Anti-men,” Margot finishes for her, tossing back her lemon drop shot with disturbing exuberance. I think that’s number three for her already, which means it could be a long night. Margot has yet to learn the art of moderation.
“Right.” Aria nods exaggeratedly at Margot like she just hit the nail on the head, tossing her messy dark curls over her shoulders before twisting them up into something that resembles a bun. “Anti-men. I’m not saying you need to date anyone here. You don’t even have to go home with them. Just let them buy you a drink. Have a normal conversation with a normal guy.”
I scoff. “And you think I’ll find one of those in here?” I splay my arms out wide, waving them around. All these men look like players. They’re in groups with other men, smacking at each other and pointing at the various women who walk in. They’re clearly rating them. And if a woman just so happens to pass by, they blatantly turn and stare at her ass.