Fragmented (PRE-ORDER)

Ewan longs for the feeling he gets when a woman submits—ecstasy mingled with power.

He’s seen it countless times as partial owner of Elements, the largest private kink club on the East Coast. But ever since his ex walked away, that feeling is out of reach.

His friends are on his case. They want him back in the game.

But Ewan only wants adrenaline to dull the pain of heartbreak. So even after disappearing for months, he’s still acting reckless.

Until he falls off a literal damn cliff.

When Josephine finds this gorgeous, half-dead stranger at the base of a ridge, everything starts to change. Especially when she learns he owns the club she’s been too nervous to walk into.

The kind of club that would stop her mother’s harassment about her dating life.

She needs to do something outrageous to shut her mom up for good. Ewan needs his friends to back off.

Convincing everyone they’re a happy couple could solve both their problems.

Three months. The perfect contract.

What could possibly go wrong?

What could possibly go wrong?

The next person who asked how he was feeling with those morose, concerned eyes would get a fist to the face.

Okay, fine, not really.

Ewan wasn’t a remotely aggressive person outside the bedroom or the dungeon.

Whatever. That didn’t count.

That was pain without violence. Control, but only with absolute consent.

The point was, he had never actually punched someone in his life. But every man has his breaking point, and Ewan was getting pretty damn close to his.

Needing to release some of the pent-up energy vibrating in his veins, he picked up the pace, jumping over a pile of wet, soggy leaves and jogging up a steep incline. He usually completed this hike’s eight-mile loop in around three hours. Today, he’d aim for two and a half.

His thigh and calf muscles strained as he launched himself farther up the mountain, while the cold January air burned his lungs with each inhale. It was supposed to get up into the low forties later today—unseasonably warm for Connecticut—but this early in the morning, the air still had some bite to it, just the way he liked it.

He narrowed all his focus to one thing and one thing only. Where to place his foot for the next step.

This exact method saved his life last year.

After Gemma left, when his life crashed down around him in jagged pieces.

He hadn’t been able to take all the looks. The whispered conversations that suddenly stopped whenever he entered a room. The attempts at pep talks that made him want to scream.

And it wasn’t just his closest friends. Beckett, Rhys, and Skye were the worst offenders, but it had felt like the eyes of the world were on him. Judging. Pitying. Condemning.

So he left the world behind for a while, needing the chance to get his head on straight. Give his friends a chance to get over it.

Trouble was, it only seemed to make everything worse.

Yes, he disappeared off the face of the planet for six months.

And yes, when he showed up after his impromptu leave of absence, his body had been so transformed that security tried to block him from entering his own club. Spending half a year hiking the entire Appalachian Trail would do that to a person.
The mountain man beard didn’t help.

Now the beard was gone. He’d been hitting either the trails or the gym on the club’s fourth floor every day since he got home and was in the best shape of his life. His commitment to Elements was more focused than ever.

So what was everyone’s problem now? Ewan was ready to forget the past and move on with his life. He just wished his friends would let him.

Fuck. He was thinking about it again. The whole point of coming out here was to not think about it. “Focus, damnit,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

Ewan tried to ignore the throbbing ache on the left side of his face. Forty was too young for chronic jaw pain, but he didn’t even bother trying to relax. No matter what he did, it never worked. Not when he got into this frame of mind.

Just one foot in front of the other. Higher and higher, each step taking him closer to his goal.

If he could control the women who chose to submit to him, he could sure as fuck control his own damn mind.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He couldn’t control Gemma.

Not the way she wanted him to, at least.

“Fuck.”