BEFORE WE FALL by Courtney Cole (November 4, 2014; Forever Trade Paperback; $12.00)
Sometimes before we fall . . . we fly.
One dark moment was all it took to turn twenty-four-year-old Dominic Kinkaide's world black. On the night of his high school graduation, a single incident changed him forever, and he became a hardened man-famous in the eyes of the world, but tortured inside. Now all he cares about is losing himself in the roles that he plays.
At twenty-three years old, Jacey Vincent doesn't realize how much her father's indifference has affected her. She is proof that sometimes it isn't one specific moment that wrecks a person, but an absence of moments. She tries to find acceptance in the arms of men to fill the void-a plan that has worked just fine for her, until she meets Dominic.
When jaded Dominic and strong-willed Jacey are thrown together, the combination of his secrets and her issues turns their attraction into the perfect storm. It could change their lives for good-if it doesn't tear them both apart . . .
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{Excerpt} - adult language ahead -
Jacey is standing still in the middle
of the room, dressed in her uniform, letting a party guest lick salt off of her
forearm for a tequila shot. She’s heavily made up tonight- thick mascara, red
lipstick. She smiles up at him with
those red lips and a fake smile and as she does, she catches sight of me.
She freezes in shock, although what
the fuck? I’m the one living here
temporarily. I belong here, she
doesn’t.
Suddenly, a guy comes rushing up to
me, someone I don’t know. A very drunk
someone.
“Dude, can you sign my shirt for my
girlfriend? If I take home your
autograph, I’ll get laid for a month.”
“Dude. If you were lucky enough to get invited here,
then you should know not to approach anyone for autographs.”
I’m not usually so rude to fans. But my mood gets the better of me. The guy
stares at me, stunned, and I continue on my way. As I do, I feel Jacey’s gaze.
She pulls her arm away from the guy,
sets down her tray of shots, and makes a beeline for me.
I turn my back on her, intent on
continuing up the stairs without acknowledging her, but she won’t have it. She grabs my arm, forcing me to look at her.
“ Are you all right?” she
demands. “That was pretty harsh.”
I glance down at her, into her brown
eyes and find her to be sincerely concerned.
I must look seriously rattled if she noticed that something is wrong.
She barely knows me. Her fingers are
warm on my arm and for a minute, I waver.
She’s warm and soft and
concerned. I know what that might turn
into.
A wild night that will make me feel
better.
Women are all the same, they want to
fix what is broken and they’re willing to do anything to accomplish that. I never talk about my past or anything at all
about me, but women can still sense that I’m fucked up. What they don’t understand… is that I’m
unfixable.
I stare down at her again, shaking my
head.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”
But she looks at me again, really
looks at me, her brown eyes probing mine.
“I don’t think you are. What
happened?”
“Why does it matter to you?” I ask,
before I can stop myself.
Because something about her makes me
think that it does somehow matter to her and not just because I’m Dominic
Kinkaide. Everything I’ve seen of Jacey
is wild and untamed… she works for Saffron, pushes cops around, gets dressed in
parking lots and lets men lick salt off her body for tequila shots.
Yet at the same time, she seems warm
and real. I haven’t forgotten how she
shoved her way in between Cris and I and shielded my body with her own. She’s a puzzle.
Jacey looks confused by my
question.
“It matters because you’re not some
stranger off the street. You look seriously upset. Of course I’m going to ask you if you’re
alright. Who wouldn’t?”
Most of the people I know in
Hollywood, I think.
But I don’t say it. Instead, I turn my back and start up the
stairs again. I don’t fucking answer to
her or anyone else.
“Do you need anything?” Jacey’s voice
is hesitant behind me. “An ice pack or
anything? That bruise on your cheek looks like it still hurts.”
I pause, not looking at her. Instead I remember her bare leg, stretching
toward the sky while her tiny uniform shorts slide over it. The mere memory of the way she’d undressed
right out in the open sets my pulse to racing.
Yeah, there’s a bunch of things I
need, but only one thing that will take my mind off the reason that I need
them.
“Yeah, I need something.”
There is a moment of silence between
us, then another.
Finally she asks, “And that is?”
I turn back around slowly, looking her
up and down until my eyes freeze upon hers and stay there. Hers are dark and sincere, waiting for me to
say something. She has no idea what kind of person I am. She has no idea that I’m just a shell,
completely empty inside.
If she did, she would run far, far
away.
I stare into her eyes as I move closer
and she doesn’t look away.
I step back down until we’re on the
same step and her back is against the wall.
I press against her, close enough that my rigid dick digs into her
hip.
With my mouth mere centimeters from
her ear, I say, “You. Spread-eagled and
tied up on my bed. That would do for a
start.”
About the author:
Courtney Cole is a New York Times and USA Todaybestselling
author who lives near Lake Michigan with her family. She's always
working on her next project... or staring dreamily out her office
window.
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