Off Limits Lover: A Houston After Dark Prequel: Houston After Dark, #0

By Deborah Garland

She wanted a taste of danger, but aroused a man who ate trouble for breakfast…

 

Eighteen. Curvy. Feisty. With a smart pretty mouth that arouses me to the point of madness, Avery is off-limits in every way possible. I indulge in whiskey, chase down sleazeballs, and spend my nights with strangers who don't ask questions. I don't do relationships. Or women who are barely legal.

 

But Avery is mature beyond her years and not afraid to push and tease me, a thirty-year-old man who's itching to teach her it's dangerous to play with fire.

Now she's gotten herself in trouble. A stalker has her in his sights.

 

I saw her first. She's broken through my armor and I make all kinds of mistakes because I know she's mine.
 

Even if I have to let her go away to college and learn about the world first…

 

Meet Grant Harding and Avery Clark in this PREQUEL to the Houston After Dark Series. Off Limits Lover ends on a cliffhanger, but Grant and Avery's story picks up four years later and ends with a HEA in Rough Lover.

 

Off Limits Lover contains scenes of *self-care*, passionate kissing, and touching only. 

Houston After Dark:
Off Limits Lover (Prequel)
Rough Lover
Hard Lover
Untamed Lover

 

*Links for each book can be found at the end of Off Limits Lover


 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Deborah Garland
• Release date: May 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201371302

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Grant

W e good? I slid my pants on and zipped my fly.

I didn’t know the name of the woman lying on the bed in a tangled mess of sheets because this wasn’t the kind of place The Stable pretended to be. My high-end club for consenting adults fulfilled fantasies for those of us in Houston who didn’t have time for relationships.

Sex here meant nothing more than a release.

For men and women. The Stable offered equal opportunity, no-strings playtime. And women wanted mindless sex with strangers just as much as men. Made it more fun.

The lady I just gave my all to, three times, reared up on her elbows. Her hesitation in answering gave me pause.

In the few hours we’d been in here, she’d screamed and scratched up my back and arms real good. So why the silent treatment now?

Uh oh...

Slipping one boot on, I said, You okay?

Her eyes were still glazed as she looked me up and down. Sure am, cowboy.

I never worked on a ranch, but I rode horses, hunted, and fished large mouths and small. The hat... Right.

Well, this has been mighty enjoyable. I tipped my Stetson to her with a smile. Here at the club, I dressed in my good plaid shirt with nice slacks and brought my expensive cream-colored cowboy hat to show I had class.

Many women came to The Stable looking for a roughneck cowboy to take them for a ride. I always delivered whatever type of cowboy women here wanted me to be.

I turned to leave my private suite, paid extra for it because of the bathroom with a shower and jacuzzi tub, depending on my mood.

For years I couldn’t bring women home when I lived with my younger sister. Even with her being twenty, she didn’t need to know about places like The Stable. I didn’t care if anyone called me a hypocrite for trying to keep my sister from hooking up with guys like me. A guy’s gotta protect the females in his life. Enough said.

Now I lived alone, and I still didn’t want strange women in the bed I slept in. Saying that thought in my head put a sour taste in my mouth, realizing how detached I’d become.

What’s your name, cowboy? My date for the night flashed me a smile and a blush colored her sculpted cheeks. Can I see you again?

I froze.

Fuck. Me. Hard.

Oh, she did that already. The whole point of this place was no-names, no-strings. I never bothered to confirm that rule with a ‘date’ and assumed the club’s sales staff made those terms perfectly clear.

The club covered everything its clients needed, including background checks, medical tests, and a probationary period. I’d seen this particular redhead a few times over the past year, so I knew she wasn’t a probie.

Oh, she probed...

When can I see you again? Not if, but when.

I cleared my throat, pushing down the guilt. Hurting women wasn’t my thing. And, well, a woman getting turned down wasn’t something I’d watch if you paid me. Until I felt ready to open my heart, I needed this place so I’d stay sane. My throat tightened when the idea of opening my heart felt impossible.

About that... I started when my phone rang. Hang on.

As a private investigator, I worked 24/7. My current caseload at the moment was just surveilling some cheaters, insurance fraudsters, and guys with gambling debts up the ass. I didn’t recognize the number, but screening calls didn’t cut it in my business.

The no-name rule here at the club had me answering the call sounding shady. Hello?

Grant Harding? the voice on the other end bellowed my name loud and clear.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Speaking. Who’s this?

My name is Landon Clark. Sheppard Mills said you were handling my case.

Hang on, Mr. Clark. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I turned to the woman, who had gotten out of bed and started to dress. I’d liked what I’d seen when she took that dress off, but now...

Our time was over. Going separate ways was a foregone conclusion. I hated feeling like a dick. But Landon Clark saved me, even though I cringed at his words because Sheppard, my boss and owner of Mills Security, hadn’t mentioned this case I was supposedly handling.

Some clients were just impatient as fuck.

Work’s calling me, I need to take this, I said to the woman, acting cold and not making eye contact.

Fine. I’m leaving, cowboy. The deep, sex-kitten voice had vanished.

I cursed myself for not picking up on how this might end. The private suite was mine all evening, but I never spent the entire night here. The comfortable king-size bed and soft cotton sheets had one purpose. Sex. Some of the members used their suites like a hotel room and stayed all night. Others were in and out with different women like a revolving door.

Neither suited me. I came here a few times a week when I needed sex and nothing more. The Stable was my haven. My secret.

The door clicked shut and I lowered my head, the last of the woman’s perfume leaving with her.

Grant? The man on the phone used my first name, rubbing me the wrong way immediately.

I’m here. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting your call at... I glanced at my watch, Ten p.m. on a Saturday night.

I gave Sheppard a retainer on Monday. I’ve been expecting you to call me.

My nerves seized. What the fuck? I could throw Sheppard under the bus. He’d been acting strangely the last few months, but to blame him only made us both look bad. I’d worked for him for twelve years, straight out of high school.

Had to. My parents had gone to jail for cooking meth and I’d had my seven-year-old sister, Callie Rose to look after when they got locked up.

"Sir, Sheppard’s messages must be