Tricked: Trap King Trilogy, #1
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Tricked is book 1 in the Trap King Trilogy. Books 2 and 3, Betrayed and Redeemed are available everywhere now!
I RAN, BUT THERE WAS NOWHERE TO HIDE.
I’ve done everything I could to put the hood behind me. But every time, the hood finds its way back. I was desperate. Out of options.
Marius Rich was supposed to help.
He wasn’t supposed to dive between my legs. Wasn’t supposed to break all my walls.
Leave me quivering and begging for more.
He shattered the world that I built around myself, pulled me into a world of trouble that I never saw coming.
A world of trouble that I don’t want to come back from.
Not when he holds me with his strong hands, his hard voice burning in my ear:
“Mine.”
Read more from Sophia Hampton
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Tricked - Sophia Hampton
TRICKED: Trap King Trilogy Book 1
By Sophia Hampton
C:\Users\Brett\AppData\Local\Microsoft\Windows\INetCache\Content.Word\Sophia Hampton_Tricked_resized.jpgI RAN, BUT THERE WAS NOWHERE TO HIDE
I’VE DONE EVERYTHING I could to put the hood behind me. But every time, the hood finds its way back. I was desperate. Out of options.
Marius Rich was supposed to help.
He wasn’t supposed to dive between my legs. Wasn’t supposed to break all my walls.
Leave me quivering and begging for more.
He shattered the world that I built around myself, pulled me into a world of trouble that I never saw coming.
A world of trouble that I don’t want to come back from.
Not when he holds me with his strong hands, his hard voice burning in my ear:
You are mine.
Chapter 1
Strathmore Mansion sat on the top of a hill that looked out over a cluster of some of the wealthiest communities in the country. There was a running joke in the local area that the hill was a pile of money, packed down and added to by more piles of money over the years. Its winding drive was paved so smoothly that it almost shined. The other joke was that the groundskeepers kept it polished.
But as regal as it appeared, Strathmore was just a gutted shell. It belonged to the city. Private owners sold it long ago and all the furnishings were vacated save for a high-polished mahogany conference table and high-backed chairs. The mansion served as a really pretty front for boards and politicians for meetings, stirring speeches and fund raisers. At the moment, it was being used by the Board of Directors of the Wilson House Collective, a group of projects geared to rehabilitate addicts, educate them and give them life skills to adjust from institutions to the street.
That was, it was being used until the meeting was interrupted by the explosion.
Much to the ruffling of the feathers of the members of the meeting surrounding the ultra-glossy table, darling-of-the-Chamber-of-Commerce Shella Langston just took the head off of Dr. Marius Rich. She was founder and president of Langston Unlimited, the marketing and events firm that was putting together a black tie fundraiser for the Wilson Collective. Meanwhile, he was a brilliant psychologist who was the program's chief designer. He wanted to use the upcoming event to showcase his prize protégé, a young man he had rehabilitated from the street.
Absolutely not,
Shella said slamming the table, completely offended. From a PR perspective, it is in poor taste to use the party that is meant to be our say thanks to our supporters, to make another pitch. It isn't that type of event.
The way too handsome for his own good Marius Rich disagreed. In his usual condescending tone, he stated It's always that type of event. I was just thinking if they could see some proof of the strategies we are trying to put into place.
No,
replied Shella emphatically. These people need a night off where we are not trying to pick their pockets. Or have you not graduated to that point in your own rehabilitation design?
Without intending to, Shella's tone had become far too insulting. She stopped talking and looked around the table. Somewhere in the moment, she had risen to her feet and was shouting across the table. But now she was silent. She had the attention of everyone in the room. Shella took her seat, and cleared her throat a little.
Okay enough,
intervened the president of the board trying to make peace. We can shelve this item and revisit it.
Shelve this item my ass, thought Shella. This event was her firm's baby. Of course there would be checks written, but the overt push for money would be seen as her plan and that would reflect negatively on her.
But once she got past the embarrassment of losing it, Shella Langston was pissed. And the only thing she could do now that the sparring had ended and the voices were quiet, was daydream through the arching palatial windows, at the turning black asphalt. She wondered how many horse-drawn carriages, how many Rolls, Bentleys, Cadillacs, Lincolns, and ‘Benzes had wandered up those curves to the front door of the mansion in its day.
It was either think of fairytales of days past or remain infuriated.
Shella was the only woman—the only African American woman at that—who sat on the board. There was a lot of money flowing through the spreadsheets sitting squarely in front of each person at the table, mostly Capitol Hill, Potomac and Chevy Chase money. Judging from the looks on the other board members’ faces, they were as disinterested as she was. Everyone had the same general idea as to how they wanted the money to be used but no one was terribly concerned with the details. In fact the details seemed to be putting people to sleep.
Shella excused herself, pretended like she was going to the ladies room. After her display she was pretty sure no one minded her absence. She made it just as far as she was certain no one could see her and then veered into the coat closet, and snagged her coat. She stepped out the side door to hit her e-cigarette. She leaned against the back wall of the mansion, making sure that anyone coming or going would not be able to see her. She was mad. She didn't care how hot Marius Rich was, she thought he was a power trippin' jerk.
Really?
he asked casually just over her shoulder.
Shella freaked. She spazzed and she knew she looked stupid doing it. He laughed. She reached around and chopped him in the bicep. He grabbed her hand firmly, pulled it around his waist and kissed her hard. However, she had a mouth full of vapor which she blew all over his face. Now he freaked. He pulled back, his mouth all drawn up.
She spoke words to the expression on his uptight face. Why you!
she said mockingly.
He fanned the vapor away, snatched the e-cigarette and swept her up in his arms again. This time there was no smoke. There was just blistering heat.
As far as men went, Marius was the ideal of everything she wanted in a man physically. He was the perfect height, of just over six feet, she was guessing. He had a full head thick dark hair which he kept short but not close cropped, parted to the side and had what she called a dashing mustache. The only thing he needed to go with that mustache was a tuxedo. His skin was the most beautiful caramel, smooth and rich and his facial features and physique belonged in an ad for Dolce & Gabbana. Again, thought Shella, the only thing missing was a tuxedo.
Shella ran her hands along his long powerful arms, to get a grip as he devoured her mouth. He tasted amazing as he swept her tongue with his. He sent currents of pure arousal throughout her body as he boldly cupped her breast. They remained bent in an embrace, electrified by their own chemistry. Finally Shella broke the kiss.
Really?
she inquired, doped with amazing attraction.
Really what?
he murmured back.
She pushed away, straightened her suit. You said 'really' when you saw me. What did you mean?
Marius laughed. You said I was a power trippin' jerk.
Shella's face nearly popped. I said that out loud?
I guess you be surprised by that because you thought you were alone and that would mean you talk your thoughts aloud. Maybe you should even be concerned,
he said smugly.
Well if the shoe fits,
she teased back.
So you left board meeting under a pretext when you really came out to indulge in substance abuse?
he taunted.
Shella narrowed her eyes at him, giving him her best I will kill you
glare. Mr. Rich, are you perfect?
she demanded.
No Ms. Langston, I am not,
he said as he smiled. But I do consider myself lucky to be sitting on the board that is contemplating such worthy acts. And I wouldn't blow the meeting off in favor of bad habits.
Shella rolled her eyes. But you did blow the meeting off in favor of me,
she challenged. Are you saying I am a bad habit?
Ms. Langston,
he said looking her deep into her eyes. You definitely could become one.
Chapter 2
The night of the huge soirée was upon them. Shella had made thinking of Dr. Marius Rich her secret drug of choice. She found herself returning to vivid thoughts of him in a tux, tall and elegant, dancing beneath light that spilled him magic gold. She could still feel of his hard, defined frame in the palms of her hands. against the smooth soft muscles of her arms, his chest against her breasts. Marius Rich was a man to fantasize over, and as mad as he made her, she was intensely glad she was going to see him.
It was about him that she thought when she arrived at Strathmore to make sure everything was on point. The empty mansion that had been transformed into a regal venue for a magical event. In the morning Shella had