Mine Every Night

By Brynn Paulin

For months, I've planned my escape from my family and the arranged marriage they're forcing me into.

 

I'm ready to do anything to escape their shady lives and their manipulation over mine. I didn't expect what happened.

 

Out on my weekly forced "date" with my husband-to-be, I'm kidnapped from the restroom at the bar. All my careful plotting is turned upside down. And this stranger, my completely obsessive kidnapper, is determined to plunder all my treasures, to own me and to never let me go.

 

With no escape, he ties me to him. This is not beauty and the beast situation, though he's surely a beast with an amazing library. The more he owns me in every way, the deeper I am thrust into a dark world I need to escape.

 

Except...when he touches me, escape is the last thing I consider. I'm his every day and night.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Supernova Indie Publishing Services LLC
• Release date: Oct 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781623444495

Book preview

Mine Every Night

By Brynn Paulin

Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

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Mine Every Night

by

Brynn Paulin

For months, I’ve planned my escape from my family and the arranged marriage they’re forcing me into.

I’m ready to do anything to escape their shady lives and their manipulation over mine. I didn’t expect what happened.

Out on my weekly forced date with my husband-to-be, I’m kidnapped from the restroom at the bar. All my careful plotting is turned upside down. And this stranger, my completely obsessive kidnapper, is determined to plunder all my treasures, to own me and to never let me go.

With no escape, he ties me to him. This is not beauty and the beast situation, though he’s surely a beast with an amazing library. The more he owns me in every way, the deeper I am thrust into a dark world I need to escape.

Except...when he touches me, escape is the last thing I consider. I’m his every day and night.

Copyright

© 2022, Brynn Paulin

Mine Every Night

Cover Art by Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

Electronic Format ISBN: 978-1-62344-449-5

Published by: Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

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

Thank You!

Thank you for your purchase of Mine Every Night.

I hope you enjoy the story and will consider leaving a review or telling a friend about the book.

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Dedication

For Mercedes. You know why.

Chapter One

~ Cayce Whistler ~

She was here again.

With that asshole. He had a death wish and didn’t even know it. The cloth in my hand ripped under my white-knuckled grip on the twisted fabric.

She was blonde with dark eyes that would roll back in her head when I railed into her in the not so distant future. Only she didn’t know it. I didn’t give a shit about that, and nothing changed the fact she was mine. Fuck…as soon as I got my opening, I’d have her ingrained so deep into my world, she’d never find her way out.

If ya keep staring like yer gonna kill those rich kids, yer gonna lose me customers, son.

I didn’t turn toward the two-pack-a-day roughened voice. But I did look down at the spot where I was viciously rubbing off the counter’s finish. My gramps was right. Then again…

Big loss, I growled. The fancy pants frat boys were dicks and pranced around here as if they were the shit. They were shit, but in a whole different way. Bet if I got my hands on them, they’d crap their designer trousers.

Pull back yer mental knives, my grandfather muttered. And when you do follow through on your thoughts, it had better not be in my place or the parking lot.

Funny how his brogue slipped away when he meant business. He knew what I did for a living and I knew what he used to do before opening this bar and going straight. Straight-ish. Fact was, Gramps would never fully retire. He’d just changed what he did for the rush. Not before teaching me all I know. Like grandfather; like grandson.

’Course not. I wouldn’t disrespect you that way.

As for my occupation? I doled out justice. I took what I wanted. I erased people. And those I didn’t… Well, let’s just say I wormed myself so deep into their cyber-lives, they might wish they were the ones I’d killed.

Yeah, I know. Fucked up.

And on some Friday nights, I helped out here, tending bar and not popping the heads off those roided-up douchebags. I only came here for her.

My insides twisted up when I thought of her with him. Fucking hell. Every bit of me craved wrapping my hands around his neck and squeezing until his little pin eyes popped out like one of those squishy toys.

It might offer catharsis, but it wasn’t my way. Gramps was right—as always. I was more the knife type. The deed could be quick and merciful or drawn out for hours or even days. It depended on my mood and how big of a prick my target was.

This guy hit on other girls while his blonde goddess stood nearby sipping her single White Claw of the night. I’d work on him for hours. He’d probably run off his mouth to the end. No. No, that wasn’t right. He’d be a screamer. Definitely a screamer.

Fucking hell, Gramps rumbled. Go do something in the back before it’s obvious you’re the one who offed him. Thought you were more of a professional than this.

I rolled my head sideways to level an annoyed glare at him. He glared right back.

Fine. I tossed the rag into the sanitizer bucket then headed into the back to juggle kegs or some shit.

This ended tonight. I didn’t know how, though I’d been thinking of my options since the end of August when the university started classes and this group began coming in here. That was over a month ago. Being so close to October and all, I wondered how she’d feel if I dressed up as a ghoul and snuck right on in between her thighs while she slept tonight.

It wasn’t much of a plan. I needed a better one. I needed her to know she was mine and she’d better not let that prissy pinhead touch her. If he did… There would be hell to pay, in a very literal flame-heavy way.

I need kegs brought up from downstairs, Gramps called.

How many?

His brow lifted. As many as it takes.

We don’t have that many, I scoffed.

Shaking my head, I shot one last look around the bar before heading into the backroom. My eyes met and clashed with those brown ones that haunted my sleep. Before she saw how much I wanted her, all the filthy things I planned to do to her, I shifted my gaze and pretended as if she didn’t matter.

Gramps was right. Always right. If I kept up my narrow-eyed staring, no alibi in the world would get me off for what I intended to do—when I finally meshed my plan.

Because what had coalesced in my brain, and I kept pushing away, was simplicity at its finest. Erase the prick; take the girl; give no shits about what anyone else thought about it.

Yeah…that might be exactly what I went with.

To start.

Chapter Two

~ Graylyn Forrester ~

Fuck this. Seriously. Fuck this to hell. Why the hell was I even here? So my boyfriend, Mason, could ignore me all night but call this a date?

I hated Fridays.

It was always the same. Go to Lucky’s Bar. Pretend to drink my one beverage for the night. Watch my boyfriend play pool with his boys and flirt with other girls.

To be clear, I was one-hundred percent okay with Mason paying attention to any female who wasn’t me.

So why was I here? I had no choice.

Mason Wellings jr. wasn’t actually my boyfriend. He was just the man I was supposed to marry in June, just months from now.

My jaw set. I’d find a way out of the wedding before that day arrived. I’d been slowly devising my getaway and setting things into motion for my escape. I refused to let my life become another casualty to my father’s criminal ambitions—specifically getting his hands on some of the Wellings’ power and cash.

Mason knew exactly what I thought of him. He didn’t care. He’d do whatever his daddy wanted.

When his daddy was watching, anyway.

Mr. Wellings wasn’t here now, though. That meant Mason was trying to get with the girls leaning against the pool table and laughing at his jokes as if he were the funniest man ever. He wasn’t.

God, he wasn’t. Arrogant? Yes. Narcissistic? Oh, yeah. Intelligent? Yes, but smart? No.

I huffed a chuckle at that thought and lifted my drink to hide my opinions, since they were often written too clearly on my face. The fizzy liquid hit my lip, but I didn’t let any into my mouth. God forbid I let any of my mental faculties get fuzzy around Mason. He’d take advantage and call it his right.

The idea turned my stomach. Another reason I had to get out of marrying him. I couldn’t fathom the prospect of being married to him for the years it took before I dropped dead from utter disgust.

The man was a total cliché. Blue eyes, sun-bleached hair, skin glowing with a healthy tanning-bed orange. Black pants, pale pink button-down, light blue blazer. With his shirt on, the requisite tribal tattoo circling his bicep couldn’t be seen. Apparently, he wasn’t just pretty, but badass, too.

Badass at being a pretentious dick, anyway.

Seriously…

I hated him.

Disinterested with the pick-up situation at the pool table, and considering how many STIs I would be dodging when I refused to marry Mason, I glanced at my watch. One hour. Sixty interminable minutes and my weekly duty would be finished.

Maybe, I should call the Uber now. I’d come over with Mason. From experience, I knew he wouldn’t take me home to my apartment—not on my timeline anyway. Honestly, I just wanted to slip into my pajamas, finish reading my book, and dream about escape from my life.

My gaze wandered around the bar while I lifted the can to my lips again. It landed on my favorite bartender. He made every other man here dull by comparison. Dark brown hair with golden streaks was swept back from his face. Light stubble covered his jaw and his midnight-dark eyes seemed to pierce through any target he stared at, shrewdly deciphering whatever