Crave: Deceptive Desires, #3

By Amarie Avant

We Crave what doesn't belong to us...

Raven and Liam's relationship has always been complicated. From a scarred childhood through the rough teenage years, the duo has gone through more punches than a pair should ever face, and yet they have still come out standing… though not always standing together. Now, after recent pains and sorrows have graced their strained relationship, they are trying to piece it back together, even if it is just as friends.
Still deeply in love with him and pregnant with their second child, Raven wants to make things work with Liam, yet their shared past places roadblocks against trust. For his part, Liam is trying to step away from his colossal family, the Delacroix, striking out on his own in a world that can only see his name and all it represents.
Neither is being fully honest. Then a dangerous figure from Raven's past comes knocking, threatening everything both hold dear… including their lives.

 

 

This series should be enjoyed in order: Covet, Envy, Crave, and the finale, Vindictive. 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amarie Avant
• Release date: Aug 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393123002

Book preview

CRAVE

CRAVE

Deceptive Desires #3

Amarie Avant

Copyright © 2016 by Nicole Dunlap as Amarie Avant. All rights reserved

Copyright © 2012 ‘Miss Perfect’ by Nicole Dunlap

Publisher: Blu Savant Press

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This is a work of fiction. All characters in this book, including those inspired by real people, are fake. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means–electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other–except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

All rights reserved

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AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Please read this series in sequence: Covet, Envy, Crave, and Vindictive ;)

The Thesaurus synonyms for CRAVE are Covet, Desire, Lust After (oh yeah, there will be some hot sex), Ache For; there are more, but I wanted to highlight the synonym Die For…

We all very well know that someone must die in this story. By now, you’re team Liam and Raven. By now, you also know that Miss Raven has been through many storms in her life. To me, she’s a very strong woman given the circumstances. I don’t believe I would want her life no matter how friggen hot or rich Liam is…

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All right, enough with the rambling, you’ll be turning the pages faster and faster as this story has increased in suspense.

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We Crave what we can’t have…

1

January, Swiss Alps, Switzerland

A MONTH BEFORE

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Diamonds glittered in the sky and trees soared all around Liam’s vacation home. Dressed in a thermal, with a new camel blazer, the cold had begun to creep into Raven’s soul as she sat on the patio. A sea of stars sprayed across the dark of night. She placed the non-alcoholic wine to her lips. At that exact second, warmth blossomed from her hair follicles down to her frosted toes. Liam.

The moment he stepped out onto the patio, she sensed her childhood best friend. Raven turned in her seat and offered him a smile, to which he nodded. He had a glass of whiskey at his side. His denim jeans hugged lightly at his package; her eyes zipped upward, but he saw it. The desire that enveloped her stronger than the chill. The fire in his hazel eyes sparked just as hot as the glowing stone hearth before her.

Your move, Liam’s words still twined in her ear from earlier that day, and Raven felt like a total idiot. Yes, she had to have been dumb to consent to this after-Christmas-vacation even if they were celebrating their daughter’s sixth birthday. Royael was a New Year’s baby, after all. But this place … This home away from home of his exuded romance from the powdering of snow falling before them, to the hearth that was aglow, and one sole cashmere blanket wrapped around her legs, which had his name written all over it.

Damn, it is my move. Our happiness as one depends on me. C’mere. Raven smiled, biting her lip. As he sat down beside her, the spiced leather of his cologne further warmed her to the core. Raven tried to remind herself that they were just friends while wrapping them both into the blanket.

They’d been in Switzerland for almost three weeks. Though the attraction was so thick the sweet scent of sex surrounded them, they did not cross that line. But Liam was so patient and kind, and Raven’s mind was full of torment and chaos. Once we return to life, I have to figure out what to do about the Christmas gift. I won’t fuck up what we’re working on. My secrets must be safe from the man I love—forever. Raven decided it was a wise choice not to become intimate with Liam until her misdeeds were dead and gone. As if he felt her subconsciously moving away, Liam’s strong arms wrapped around her even tighter.

She smiled. I thought it was still my move?

Trust me, Re, you hold the entire deck of cards, he said, minty condensation puffing out from those kissable lips.

Raven elbowed him softly. If she didn’t look off into the darkness, she didn’t have to think about the mysterious gift she’d gotten for Christmas. Someone in this world hated her guts, hated her enough that it would mask even all of the shit Liam’s family did to keep them apart.

Talk to me, he ordered.

You are the reason my heart continues to beat, so I will never tell you my plight. Raven masked her shame by straddling Liam on the wicker chair. For a split second, his chiseled features were still soft with concern. Lying to him didn’t need to be the foundation for their burgeoning relationship. So Raven pressed her pelvis down onto his swelling cock. Through the premium denim, Raven’s womanhood begged for the thick length of him. I should just let him bang my brains out and stay here too. Fuck him until he’s blinded to the type of woman I truly am—

What if we move here, Liam? The words were out before Raven had a moment to consider them.

Those lips which knew every inch of her body curved just slightly. It’s a beautiful place, Re, but you’re always complaining about being cold, he said, taking the opportunity to hold her even tighter. His biceps bulged around her, comforting, saving, and if she were the devil he knew, she’d tell him the truth.

Hmmm, Raven continued to gyrate on his lap. Her legs locked tightly around him, she assured, Long as these arms stay wrapped around me, I can make it. Besides, this is no colder than the Ice Queen.

He gave her waist a little squeeze. Damn, you know the first time you called my mother the Ice Queen, it hurt my feelings.

Yeah, well … Raven added, Elise and I are good now, so … If that demon stays in her lane, I won’t have to murder her too. That, truly, was a lie. But a lie she made before their pact at Christmas. Besides, people like Elise and his grandfather, Pierre Delacroix, never changed. So there was no shame in the lie.

Liam seemed to want to bring up the apology. The apology that his mother never gave. Perhaps, Raven had lied and said Elise apologized for all her own misdeeds because somewhere deep down inside, the women were truly and utterly the same. No, not the same—Elise had no morals, didn’t care to. Raven had begged and begged God to forgive her of the sins she’d committed.

Are we in limbo, Re? Liam’s tone was smoother than the wine she’d just drunk. He rubbed her flat abdomen softly, Shit, I fucking love you, Raven. You and Prince.

Prince? What if we’re having another pretty prin-cess, Raven asked, smile masking the fear she held for their unborn child. If someone hated her, then their six-week-old baby’s life wasn’t safe, either. Her lips almost quivered at that. She reached down and planted another kiss on his lips.

We’re having a boy, Liam assured, but I could get you pregnant every day of the week …

Hmmm, every day of the week? She chuckled, kissing a trail down the angular strength of his jawline. Then those enticing, whiskey-tasting lips claimed her attention once more. Her teeth scoured over his bottom lip. His dick thumped against her thigh.

Fuck, he groaned as Raven once again twirled her hips, allowing her pussy to roll over the front of his jeans.

Totally helpless, she couldn’t complain when he started unbuttoning her thermal, then Liam’s fingers trickled against the small of her back.

Fr-freezing! Raven gasped.

Uh-huh. He pushed her hands away as she tried to pry his from around her waist. I haven’t had this much action in so long. You’re a big girl, Raven, no bowing out.

She nibbled Liam’s lip as his other hand snaked up and pulled the back of her hair so he could suck on her neck. Silky moans ran away from her pink, swollen lips that hungered for more. Tempted to fulfill her every desire, Liam yanked at the button on her jeans. Paranoia made her hands claim his.

Not out here.

I’m on fire, I can’t wait … He held her hand as she started to get up. His fingers clasping her tinier ones, Liam argued, "Re, this is why we can’t live here. If I can’t fuck you as I please, where I please, then we can-not-live-here," he said, attempting to keep her still, but her soft little hand slipped through his.

With a naughty grin, she beckoned him to the door. Then, her phone vibrated in her pants. Shit! Raven had forgotten she’d stepped outside for solitude that evening. The gifter had texted her about calling at that exact moment. The motherfucker wanted to keep her on pins and needles.

Um, it’s my mom, she said quickly. Besides this fucking psycho stalker, I would never lie to you. Moving away from the door, she added, Just give me a minute. We’ve been playing phone tag all week long.

Raven sighed as he reclaimed his seat. Should’ve told him to go get ready, but he’s already ready! Pulling the phone out of her pocket, she meandered toward the end of the extensive patio and pressed the TALK button. Hello?

I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re not taking the gift seriously. The androgynous caller was an automated annoyance in her ear. Have you decided to adhere to the stipulations presented?

"I’m thinking about it," she retorted. Her mind soared in time back to the gift. A mere letter, a single slip of paper held captive her darkest sin.

Very well, though it would behoove you to consider my offer.

"It’s not an offer!" She gripped a handful of snow from the wood railing. Had the cutter she’d spoken with before a session with her psychologist, Dr. Stanton, been correct? Her teeth grit to the icy prickling. It’s no substitute. Liam is the only antidote.

"Perhaps the impeccable wrapping has you assuming this is a motherfucking game. The scalp-sharp words dug into Raven’s soul as she glared into the dark forestland. Nonetheless, you will soon realize that I have indeed been gracious regarding my requests. For now, enjoy your very last vacation."

The call disconnected. She shoved the phone back into her jean pocket. A trickle of water ran through her fingers. She grabbed another piece and felt the euphoric sting then placed it down and turned around.

Her eyes barely met his as she walked back over. I’m going to bed.

Why?

"I’m knocked up and tired." Yawn fake, she gave it her best—inwardly praying for a smidgen of Charlene’s acting genes. She walked into the cabin, leaving Liam to his thoughts.

2

You’re not a good fit for our company… Though your experience with the Delacroix Corporation is remarkable …

At the Dallas extended airport parking, Liam pressed the unlock for his Range Rover. He and his growing family had only returned from Switzerland two weeks before, and he’d hit the ground running. He was accustomed to working hard, and moreover, had grown used to solidarity. Liam had attended a hundred interviews.

Either the businesses he considered working for assumed he was just some dumbass that Pierre had given free reign over the American D-Hotel acquisition or he was secretly sent by Pierre to infiltrate their system. Some of them weren’t even Fortune 100 companies for Christ’s sake, so he could understand their paranoia. But Jonathan Liam Delacroix Lemaître Junior a mole? Fuck that, the conspiracy was disrespectful.

No, not disrespectful. I am no longer the legacy. I’m a fucking mortal. Liam gave an irate chuckle at that thought. He’d been groomed in such a manner to believe he, a Delacroix, had to apologize for nothing. Though the world brushed against the tip of his fingers, his portfolio spoke volumes without the backing of a name.

Alligator briefcase overhead, he slammed it on the asphalt and kicked it toward the cement wall. The composite of charts inside—the proof that he’d single-handedly chosen the best options for the Florida, Beverley Hills, and Chicago D-Hotels—seemed to mean nothing. Dusty marks trailed the briefcase when he picked it up. He flung it into the back seat and got in the car.

I got a brand new baby on the way, and I can’t even get a job! He punched at the steering wheel and skirted backward, jerking the gear to drive and slammed on the gas.

That short trip to Switzerland weighed on his mind. Managing spending money was a new, unexpected evil. Never in life had he deliberately glanced at a price tag.

The radio to his Range Rover was connected to his cell phone. It began to light up with a call from Shawn, his oldest friend from Brinton Prep.

Bro-bro, how did the interview go? Shawn asked.

Next topic, Liam replied, heading toward the carport exit.

Man, like that? He sighed heavily. Okay, I’m gonna talk with Dad. He’s hiring a few juniors at the firm, we’ll get him to pick you instead—and I mean, not as a fucking kid, dude, you’ll go in as an exec.

Liam bit his fist for a second. He’d felt like shit for having to ask Shawn to borrow his private jet to Switzerland. Telling Raven that he’d left Delacroix Corp was on his to-do list. But she was pregnant, and so it was right there at the bottom of said list, since he didn’t want her to think it had anything to do with her. The love of his life has been pregnant and hormonal, but asking Shawn’s father for a job too, that was a bruise to his own ego.

I’ve got a few more leads. Besides, your dad has made my investment account golden. I’m good for now.

Shit, you could live like kings for the next few years. Shawn added to his need for a pep-talk. And if you make me godfather, your son will be shitting diamonds into his diapers.

Liam laughed, merging into the airport exit along with other cars, shuttles, and taxis. He had a few friends bidding to be godfather. He was prepared to respond when the radio chimed once more. Shawn, it’s Pierre on the other line.

Oh … His friend’s voice was heavy. We’ll chat later, but keep that in mind about being the godfather.

After a quick goodbye, Liam pressed the touchscreen. What?

Shouldn’t I be asking the questions? Pierre’s voice surrounded Liam from the speakers. "You haven’t been to work in over a month. That orchestrated car accident wasn’t too severe. I’m positive that your little Raven has been given a clean slate of health—physically. I won’t even mention mentally. You’ve had enough time to—"

You knew I wasn’t coming back. He merged into traffic.

Let’s fix this. Do you want a seat on the Delacroix board? Do you want to oversee television communications, our broadcasting network? Liam, say it, it’s done … Pierre paused. When Liam chose not to take the key to the kingdom he added, Let’s make you CEO of—

I don’t want any part of the Delacroix Golden Umbrella.

The old man scoffed. Son—

"Don’t call me that! You’re my grand-père. You don’t get to manipulate me. I know all about your role in keeping me from Raven. You know what? I’m so over the Delacroix side of my heritage right now. And there’s not much more I can say about the Lemaître side." He paused for a moment. Jonathan Senior—the man he’d been named for—dated the much younger Charlene before she ran away. Then money—ahem, Elise—entered the picture, and Jonathan forgot all about Charlene. Noticing Raven and Liam growing close over the years, Elise deceived Jonathan into the belief that he was Raven’s father. Though, her ironclad trick to keep the teens apart was faulty from the beginning, because Elise married Jonathan while already pregnant with Liam. And for twenty-four years of his son’s live, Jonathan’s eyes were blinded by her money. "A few months ago I just found out that Jonathan is not my dad! And I am very confident in the fact that you knew all along. I thought my mother was crazy, but damn—"

"I’ve been no less than candid with you, Liam. Though, I had no hand in the situation, I stand behind your mother. Elise’s actions are warranted. So she fudged some records to imply an incestuous relationship with yourself and Raven. If you remove yourself from the situation and observe that woman for what she is, you would come to terms with the fact that Raven’s wrong for you. Elise knew it all along—"

Mom doesn’t know anything! Raven has my children—

"Children? Is … She is pregnant! You let that crazy woman get pregnant, again? How convenient! I'm sure she'll disappear when your meager, noble fortune runs out."

"Fuck you very much." Liam slammed his hand against the radio button to end the call.

3

Though they’d returned from Switzerland a little over two weeks before, Raven hadn’t spoken with Charlene yet. That morning, Damien offered to watch Royael after school while she attended the first day of the new semester at school. Raven had tried to understand Liam’s situation, but he’d been gone much of the time since their return.

Her stepfather was the most perceptive person she knew, and it seemed that he was aware his stepdaughter ran every which way Charlene did not go. He wasn’t the type to shy away from having a serious conversation with Raven, but they both knew that when it included Charlene, all bets were off. Mother and daughter were learning about each other after over twenty years of being apart.

Now, Raven let herself into their mansion, she tiptoed toward the staircase since there was a very big game room upstairs. But stopped in her tracks upon hearing a husky voice—almost as thick as Annette’s, except Granny would say the chick had a potty mouth—carried along by the aroma of breakfast. When’s the last time I ate?

Charlene stormed into the hallway, placing a dramatic manicured hand at her chest. Where have you been, Raven? I was worried! Giving her daughter no time to respond, she exclaimed, You tell me that you’re being, Charlene’s screech turned into a whisper, "blackmailed in a voicemail while leaving for another country! What was I supposed to think? I imagined you dead, or … raped, or raped and dead, lying somewhere in a brook with your naked rear in the air."

Mom, calm down, Raven whispered, suspicious of them being overheard.

"Calm down? Do you not remember anything? You went with me to see Royland Alder! Hello? He raped me at the age of fifteen and left me for dead!"

Raven breathed a deep and seedy breath of anger, not needing a reminder.

I had good news. I wanted to tell you about the restaurant we’re opening, and you, Royael, and Liam disappear for almost two months—

What restaurant? Raven perked up. What do you mean by ‘we’?

Charlene regained her happiness. Momma, you, and I are opening a restaurant!

"We?" Raven cocked her head in confusion.

Yes. We should’ve talked about it at Christmastime. Why do I have the feeling you blocked my calls? None of your cell phones were working.

I know you were worried, and it seems like I just neglected my priorities, but I had to get away, Raven said.

Charlene nodded, taking a deep breath. Her high-pitched tone decreased. "Thanks for acknowledging that. How much money does he or she want?"

Fifty k. Raven grumbled

Fifty thousand dollars, Charlene mouthed, enunciating every syllable. But—

You’re a little bitty thang. The raspy voice caught Raven off guard. A woman of similar size to her grandmother came down the hallway. She was dressed in a jogging suit and would have seemed more like Charlene’s age if not for the extra weight and lack of interest in her attire. Your momma said you’re pregnant, but Char mustn’t been feeding you.

I’m only ten weeks, Raven replied, patting her belly.

Raven, this is Teresa, my sponsor, Charlene made introductions to her AA sponsor and Raven. I’ve known Teresa for about six years.

Raven calculated that it was the same timeframe in which an eighteen-year-old Liam and herself went to hunt down her estranged mother.

Char, c’mon. We gotta feed this child. Raven’s about the same size as that woman that my bastard husband cheated with. Teresa turned back to her. Don’t take offense, because you’re much cuter.

Raven sat on a stool. When Charlene finished making her plate, Teresa went back and added more. Raven smiled her thanks for the snowy mountain of grits.

Raven picked around her food for a while. The blackmailer said time is running out …

Teresa slid into her thoughts with man-bashing her own husband. Literally, man-bashing, since Teresa had caught her husband cheating and went postal on him. The story included a single red brick from the front yard and a mad black woman. Teresa stopped ranting as her phone vibrated on the counter. Picking it up, Teresa walked to the door. Excuse me. It’s my good neighbor, must be calling to tell me how my bastard husband is currently out of the hospital and trying to get into our house.

The sound of the clock on the wall oven ticked. Tired of being silently scrutinized, Raven said, "So, her bastard husband sounds charming. Does she have any other nicknames for him?"

"Sometimes she calls him her bastard-ass-husband. We can’t drink, so a sailor’s mouth is Teresa’s vice, shopping is mine. Charlene smirked. Let’s go get Royael ready for ballet. But Raven … Charlene stood slowly; she’d reclaimed that soothing tone of hers. If someone wants money, we should give it to them. I’m sure that’s nothing to Liam."

Perceiving every notion of horror behind her mom’s eyes, for Charlene’s sake, Raven nodded. She walked out of the kitchen with her mother on her heels.

Now—Charlene looked around the lavish open floor plan as if there were some unknown horror hidden beneath the Persian rug as they went up the stairs—tell me why?

I don’t know. Raven stopped on the second landing and looked into Charlene’s eyes. Making eye contact made the story authentic—at least, she hoped so.

Where’d everybody go? Teresa voiced.

They turned to see Teresa in the hallway, face bewildered.

Raven rushed upstairs as Charlene replied to her friend. She heard them head back into the kitchen as Teresa reiterated the day’s news of her husband's recovery. Down the hall, she went into a room with pink-and-brown polka dots. Damien rocked back and forth in a wood chair with her half-sister, one-year-old Trinity, on his lap. Trinity’s chubby hands flailed; she attempted to tear at the popup book he kept just out of reach.

Royael sat with her curly-haired bear, Mookie, and Trinity’s stuffed elephant. Mookie was treated like a king, as usual, with a plastic teacup and sugar cookie. The elephant’s teacup was turned over, his saucer had broccoli. Royael hated broccoli. Mookie hated broccoli.

Hey, lil sis. Raven took her half-sister from her stepdad and kissed the toddler's cheeks.

Just the girl I’ve been looking for. Damien stopped rocking.

What’s going on? She feigned innocence.

Oh, you know I couldn’t talk freely while I met you at the school for Royael’s first day. Then you ran off, with the excuse of being late to class.

I might have been late, if I had dawdled. Raven shrugged. Besides, it was the first day of school for me too.

He smiled, though not entirely convinced. Your mom’s been worried about you. Is her excessive anxiety justified?

Aw, Dad, you know Mom. She turned away from him to help Trinity sit at the tea table.