Bound to You: Volume 1

By: Vanessa Booke


Mom, thank you for being my number one cheerleader and for being the source of why I love Romantic Fiction so much. Thank you for everything you’ve done and will do for me. I can never say that enough. Melinda and NJ, thank you for encouraging me to keep going and for your feedback on all of my writing. I’m proud to call you my friends. I wish you both the best in your careers. To my editor, Carolyn, thank you for working with me on such short notice. I really appreciate the work you did for this book. I’m glad I found a gem like you. To my readers, thank you for buying this book and for taking a chance on me. I’ve often found that people who have potential sometimes need a chance or opportunity to let themselves shine. So thank you for giving me this chance. Dear husband, thank you for putting up with me. Seriously, thank you. I know I can be moody when I’m writing or when I’m trying to explain my ideas. Thank you for always being encouraging, funny, uplifting, and the only thing that keeps me anchored in this crazy and sometimes fucked up world. You’re the moon of my life. My sun and stars. My Mr. Darcy. I’m so lucky to have found you. Remember, when you read this I get extra brownie points that I can cash in for you doing the dishes. ;)

He’s cheating on me with her? My hand burns as I slug the tall blonde in front of me right across her collagen-injected face. A smile of satisfaction spreads across mine as blood gushes from her nose like a busted faucet. She leaps back, falling, as she clutches for the bed behind her. Her almost too symmetrical tits bounce as she lands with a loud thud on her ass. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as she leans against the bed, clutching her nose. I’m shaking, but I’m ready for more. A furnace of rage burns through me as she sneers at me and mutters the word bitch under her breath. I’m usually not in the habit of punching people I don’t know, but I’m ready to do it again.

“Rebecca, stop!” Miles scrambles toward me as he pulls his pants up like the floor is on fire. His honey colored eyes stare back at me in disbelief as he assesses the carnage that’s ensued. It was only an hour ago that I was on my way to his apartment to celebrate our anniversary together. The last thing I expected was to find him here with another woman.

“Who is she?” I snap. I can’t stand to look at him, and at the same time I can’t look away. His usually silky brown hair is disheveled into a messy flop of fuck-me hair. The overpowering amount of evidence sends a wave of nausea right through me. You’re disgusting.

“She’s my co-worker on the show.” The realization of who she is hits me as I look down at her petite frame leaning against the bed. She plays his love interest on the show Future Outlaw. It’s the TV series Miles has been working on. He’s described it as a fictional reimagining of Jesse James with time traveling cowboys fighting off the Italian Mafia. I’ve only been able to watch a couple of episodes because I’ve been so busy filling out grad school applications, but I’m shocked I didn’t immediately recognize her. Apparently, the lines of reality and make believe have been blurred, because a minute ago I walked in on the two of them fucking like cats in heat.

“Becca, are you okay?” His voice is full of concern but it’s meaningless.

Miles steps closer, snapping me back to reality. I don’t want him anywhere near me. The truth of his betrayal confounds me. It didn’t take me long to realize something was terribly and utterly wrong from the moment I stepped into the apartment. There were rose petals meshed against the carpet leading to the bedroom, a bottle of wine sitting on the dining room table, and a note sitting on the stand in the hallway. I was surprised by Miles’ overly romantic gesture. It’s not his style. He’s simplistic and so unromantic. He’s never bought me flowers and I’ve always been stupid enough to tell him that I don’t care for them, when the truth is I love them. I was enjoying my ignorant bliss up until the point where I heard a sensual giggle echo behind the double doors of Miles’ bedroom.

“Rebecca, it just happened,” Miles starts to say. Just happened?

“So your dick just happened to fall into her?” I ask.

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