Jealous - Not Me!

By J.F. Lowe

I've never been the jealous guy, I've always gotten what I want, and if it's not freely available to me, I've taken it for my own without apology. It's funny I can tell already that you think I'm an arrogant arse and you are mostly right. My name is Lincoln Forrest and I'm Australia's wealthiest mining magnate, and I'm use to getting everything that I want because everything comes at a price, including people.

 

What you don't know is that the moment I saw her, I knew that she was made for me. Her body, mind and soul purposely build for me. Made for my pleasure. She doesn't know it now, but it won't be long, and she will be mine forever.  So am I jealous that her pipsqueak geologist husband stands beside her? No. Am I jealous that she's laughing at his pathetic joke about a rock fact? No. Am I jealous that she wears his ring? NO!

 

Jealous - Not Me! I'm not that guy. I get what I want, and I want Madeline James and I'll do absolutely anything to have her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.F. Lowe
• Release date: Sep 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9780648881810

J.F. Lowe

USA Today bestselling author, J.F. Lowe is renowned for writing spine-tingling thrillers, heart-Wickedly Innocent military romances with laugh-out-loud dialogue, alpha males, and absolutely sizzling sex scenes.

Book preview

Jealous - Not Me!

By J.F. Lowe

Jealous - Not Me!

J.F. Lowe

Published by J.F. Lowe

Copyright © 2020 J.F. Lowe

Edited by Kallee Wright

EBook ISBN: 978-0-6488818-1-0

Print IBSN: 978-0-6488818-2-7

Cover images: Canva

Cover created by J.F. Lowe

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

Warning: The contents of this book is for a mature audience. Trigger warning as contains aspects of BDSM including but not limited to puppy play, consensual non-consensual intercourse and bondage.

Dedication

Ever wanted something you can’t have? Or rather someone? This is for those that won’t just wait for what they want to be handed to them. It’s for those that go after it wholeheartedly.

Prologue

I’ve never been the jealous guy, I’ve always gotten what I want, and if it’s not freely available to me, I’ve taken it for my own without apology. It’s funny I can tell already that you think I’m an arrogant arse and you are mostly right. My name is Lincoln Forrest and I’m Australia’s wealthiest mining magnate, and I’m use to getting everything that I want because everything comes at a price, including people.

What you don’t know is that the moment I saw her, I knew that she was made for me. Her body, mind and soul purposely build for me. Made for my pleasure. She doesn’t know it now, but it won’t be long, and she will be mine forever. So am I jealous that her pipsqueak geologist husband stands beside her? No. Am I jealous that she’s laughing at his pathetic joke about a rock fact? No. Am I jealous that she wears his ring? NO!

Jealous - Not Me! I’m not that guy. I get what I want, and I want Madeline James and I’ll do absolutely anything to have her

Chapter 1

Madeline

I’d never say I didn’t dream of this day because all little girls do. I’m standing in my wedding gown looking down the aisle at the man I’m about to marry. Everything was perfect. The dress, the flowers, everything in this moment is perfect. The music started, and my father stepped beside me, taking my arm in his.

We take our first step forward, and it disappears.

Beep Beep Beep

My arm clock radio kicks in. Good Morning Moranbah, this is 4CC’s Matt & Kate with your breakfast news. I slap at the snooze button. A dream, it was all a dream. Flopping back on to the bed and throwing my arm up over my eyes. Every day for the past week, the same thing. The same dream. I never get past that first step. Every day since Henry proposed.

I leap out of bed and into the shower. I had laid my clothes out the night before and had the strange feeling I was back in school – not university, but high school. Even after what was starting to become an embarrassingly long time, I still recognised the raw thrill and distinct nervousness that came with such a harrowing first day. It was my first day of rotations at the local hospital in Moranbah, Queensland.

Ever since I was a little girl, I had always dreamed of working there. Sure, it wasn’t Royal Brisbane or any of what most nurse practitioners would consider a prestigious hospital, but for me, that was part of the allure. There were no airs that had to be put on. I could simply do my job and serve the community I had known my entire life. I wanted to help these people specifically because they were my friends and my family. To me, working at this rural hospital as opposed to going to a bigger, the more nationally-recognisable hospital, was more important. The intimacy of the care came naturally, and for the most part, I knew these people, so I would know what was best for them. Or, at least I hoped I would.

Walking out in my brand-new scrubs, I truly felt as though I was starting a new life. I walked into my bathroom and stared at my reflection for a moment, wondering if I looked as nervous and unsettled as I felt. I played with my still-wet, mass of curly dark-red hair. I drew in a deep breath as I wrapped my hair up in a bun, a natural, almost muscle-memory action born out of necessity.

Working in a hospital setting and going through my nursing degree, I had learned it was always easier to keep my hair out of the way. While I wasn’t overly concerned about my appearance at work, I still wanted to make a good impression. I wanted to look professional, especially since I was green, fresh out of university.

I was young for being a nurse practitioner, but my curvy frame and fair skin made me look younger. My mother always told me that one day I would be thankful for such a blessing of youth but now, with my profession, it was more off-putting. Yet, that was another reason why, more selfishly, I wanted to work in the town where I grew up. Not only did I know most of the people who would walk in those emergency room doors on at least partially a personal level, but they also knew me… and they knew how hard I had worked to get where I was today.

Still, I wondered if making myself look older would help ease their tensions. After all, no matter how well you know someone, when there was an emergency, you likely wouldn’t want the freckled-faced kid you used to coach softball to giving you a diagnosis. Therefore, in a moment of doubt, I pulled open the drawer where I kept my glasses. They were thick and bulky, old as the hills and had seen far more insults than glances of appreciation.

Although now that I had grown up, my freckles had lightened to a sprinkling and my face had thinned, the large coke bottle glasses that I had worn throughout high school now added years to my demeanour. Thankfully, though, I snapped out of my doubt and decided to put my contacts in – the saving grace for my sanity. It only took me a moment before I was blinking back artificial tears and staring at my clear reflection. My green eyes shimmered with the spark of moisture that I had applied, and my dark eyelashes instantly looked thicker. I grinned, exposing white teeth that were free of the braces that had plagued my adolescence but had created a beaming grin for my adulthood. Now that I could see, I applied a small amount of makeup, fixed my hair to the small degree that was needed, and headed into the kitchen.

As I walked through my house, I felt the warmth of being home. This was my home now. It wasn’t anything lavish. It was a two-bedroom, one-bathroom Queenslander, with wooden floors, cheap carpet, and particleboard cabinets, but it was all mine, and I loved it. All my life, my family had made do with what we had, which was always plenty. We weren’t rich, by any means, but we were always happy and wanting to become a nurse practitioner hadn’t changed that.

Sure, I figured that eventually, I would be able to afford a nice home and furnishings that my parents would still think was a waste. It would be nice not to have to think about money, except the astronomical loans I had to repay, but that had nothing to do with my decision to become a nurse practitioner. The truth was, if I could work at the community hospital where I was starting my rotations and stay in this house forever, I would be perfectly content. That’s the thing, for the first time in my life everything is perfect. I have my dream job, my own home, and I’m marrying my high school sweetheart.

Chapter 2

Lincoln

The scent of coffee filled the house, but I was up in time to hear the timer click on and pour out the first drop of morning salvation. Regardless of the previous night’s activities, I was always awake and ready to start my day by 5:05 a.m. As my large cup filled, I ran a quick shower and picked out one of my pressed Armani suits from the closet. After adorning dress socks, shined penny loafers, and a matching tie, perfectly contorted into a Double-Windsor, I was ready to take on the world – and that was no exaggeration. As I reached for the coffee, I caught a glimpse of my Rolex watch, but it didn’t inform me of anything I wasn’t already aware of. Almost automatically, I switched my mug with a to-go cup. I was right on time, and as I took the first sip of steaming hot coffee, I turned on the television, pre-programmed to the only channel worth watching: the mining stocks.

At times, it seemed like even three time zones and the roughly 4,500 km distance, nearly an entire width of a country