Kaine

By Megan Slayer

Nikki Sinclair isn’t interested in love. She’s happy as a model and doing her own thing. Besides, keeping people at bay means she won’t get hurt again. Then she runs into Kaine. He’s nothing like she expects and exactly what she never realized she needed. But he’s got a past. It’s up to her to decide if she’s willing to summon this bad-boy mechanic or keep going on as a solo act.

Love can be a tricky thing. What if fate has its own idea for Nikki? She’s not willing to argue, especially if it means having her bad boy.

Time to do some summoning.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: Aug 12, 2022

Megan Slayer

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com. When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

Book preview

Chapter One

If I can make her listen this time… Nikki Sinclair drove to her best friend’s house, then parked in the driveway. She loved her friend, Sarah, like a sister, but Sarah could be controlling and pushy. Sarah wanted to use her magic spell to pair up the various members of their friend group with eligible bachelors. Until now, Sarah’s use of the spell had been harmless. Now, she’d set her sights on setting up Nikki with the right man.

Sure, their friend Karey had found Jimmy. They’d be married in a few months. Swell. Then Mandy met Jack. They were talking about getting married and when to set the date. Fantastic. Natalie had forged a relationship with one of baseball’s bad boys, Bentley. Good for her. Had they all found love on account of the spell?

Nikki doubted it.

Magic wasn’t real, and it hadn’t brought the couples together. Their mutual interests and attractions had done it. They had things in common, and that familiarity helped the desires grow. It wasn’t rocket science.

But Sarah insisted it was magic.

Not hardly.

What didn’t help matters much was Sarah’s need to troll for dates at the same damn bar. One More Round was nice enough as a hangout, but besides Jack, there weren’t any decent guys there.

Sarah might think she could find a date for Nikki there, but Nikki still had her doubts.

Tonight, she had other plans, too. Nikki strode up to the front door. If she didn’t tell Sarah now about her job and not wanting to go to the bar, she’d wuss out. She knocked and waited for Sarah’s reply.

Sarah opened the door. Hey. You’re not dressed to go out. What gives?

I have a show tonight.

Tonight? Where?

Ah, Sarah. The girl needed to know everything. At the art museum. I’m part of the Gowns Through Time moving exhibit.

Sarah crinkled her nose. So no One More Round tonight? How about after?

I can’t. When I’m done modeling the dress, I’m expected to solo at the after-party. She had to emphasize the solo part or Sarah would try to tag along.

Solo? Sarah frowned. I’m your best friend. You can’t go alone -- take me with you. What about stranger danger? I should be there.

You mean you don’t want me going out on my own?

Yes. We should be in pairs. It’s safest.

And also gets you into an exclusive after-party with rich men.

Yes. Sarah’s eyes lit up. Exactly.

Wrong.

Sarah frowned again. You’re twenty-five, the most beautiful woman I know, guys would kill to be with you and you’re not scared to go solo?

Not when I’m with the other models.

Oh. Sarah folded her arms. What if some rich man sweeps you off your feet?

Unlikely. She had one chasing her, and if she could avoid him, she’d be golden.

Why?

I’m not dating a guy who is twenty years older than me. She’d done it once and hated it. We have nothing in common. When I did try to date a man that much older than me, he griped, I got bored and everyone was miserable. Look, I need to go. I’m due at the makeup stands at seven, and it’s six-forty-five now.

When is the show?

Arrivals start at eight-forty-five. We do our part starting at nine-thirty and the after-party is some time after eleven. She checked her watch. I’ve got texts from Laura, my boss. I need to go. See you.

Yeah, be safe.

Call Kurt. He’ll keep you company. She rushed down the steps to her car.

Mentioning Kurt was a tricky proposition. Sarah wouldn’t admit it she loved him, but she did. If Kurt had the audacity to start seeing someone else, Sarah would flip out, but she had too much pride to admit she still cared about him. She wasn’t ready to try again, no matter how much she seemed to love him.

Nikki drove to the museum complex. She parked in the staff lot, then rushed into the building to the cafeteria. Getting dressed in the huge room wasn’t ideal for the models, but it wasn’t the worst place she’d prepped for a show. At least she could dress on site and not be driven to the location.

She left her purse and phone in the assigned area, then waited for her turn with the makeup artists.

Forty-five minutes later, she was dressed in a flame-red strapless evening gown that left little to the imagination. At least she had the figure for it. She adjusted the bodice as the dresser laced the corset and the hair stylist finished the last touches on her hairdo.

You look smashing, Carol, the dresser, said. I’d love to wear this.

Why don’t you? She wasn’t being catty. She believed every woman should be able to wear whatever made them feel sexy. Besides, Carol had the curves Nikki never got.

I’m too short for dresses like this. Carol beamed. I’ll live vicariously through you.

You should wear this. It’d be killer on your frame. Those rich donors wouldn’t know what to do with themselves. They’d fawn all over you. She grunted as Carol tugged harder on the corset strings. Good?

Yep. Carol stepped around her. I don’t have your confidence, either. I’d be too worried the guys would laugh.

They don’t deserve you if they’d laugh. I’m serious. Nikki stepped off the pedestal. Don’t let them rule you. Be you and be bold. Don’t let them win. You win. That’s what she told herself before every show.

I will.

Good. Nikki checked the time -- nine-thirty. Great. She had a few minutes before she did her walk. She searched for the shoes meant to go with her gown. The designer had chosen platform pumps. Perfect. She hated wearing sandals. She always teetered in them, and she hated when her toes poked through the lacing. Pumps, she could do.

She stepped into the shoes, then checked her makeup once more before she joined the queue. She knew the drill -- walk out, flourish and spin twice, stop at the end, one more flourish and turn, then back to the logo at the head of the catwalk. At the end, she’d turn, pause, then leave the walk to circulate around the room. She’d done this a hundred times and knew her place. She was there as an ornament. A bauble. The attendees could look, but not touch.

Unfortunately, few of the rich donors paid attention to the rules. She’d get her ass patted, her chest fondled -- by accident, they’d claim -- tugged into an embrace, caressed and fondled again… One guy had even tried getting her number by dumping a martini down the front of her dress at a previous event. He helped to dry her off, all while getting in a copious feel of her breasts. He’d ruined the gown, but hadn’t achieved his end goal -- getting her phone number. Instead, he’d pissed her off. Who was he to think he could touch her like that and get his way?

The asshole.

She waited for her turn, then stepped onto the platform. The music blared, and an announcer gave the details on her ensemble. The original gown was tucked away in a vault, meaning the one she wore was a reproduction. She walked the length of the runway and did her thing. She even added another flourish before she paused at the end. When she headed back up the runway, she planned her escape. She turned left, descended the stairs and blended into the crowd.

Easy.

The lights didn’t blind her as much as before, and she ignored the hoots and catcalls from the audience. They didn’t matter.

This was just another job.

She circulated the room, showing off the garment and smiling at the donors.

A man strode toward her, and she steered herself away from him. Thurmon Edwards was not the kind of man she wanted to attract here. She’d gone on two dates with him, and neither set her world on fire. He wanted to touch her in places without her permission, he kissed her with his mouth open and smelled like bourbon.

Not good.

She continued to circulate and kept an eye out for him. The more she could avoid him, the better. She ducked into the bathroom for a respite.

Did you see the oil baron here? Sadie asked. He’s so tall. I heard he’s worth ten million dollars.

Nikki snorted and said nothing. Everyone there was worth a disgusting amount of money, otherwise they couldn’t have afforded the five-thousand-dollar ticket.

There are four members of the basketball team here, too, Collette said. Looking for girlfriend material. She pouted and admired herself in the mirror.

Nikki wasn’t surprised. The ballers tended to prowl these kinds of events for dates. Many of the girls obliged, thinking they might parlay the one night into being a basketball wife. It almost never happened, but she’d never be able to convince Collette otherwise.

What do you think, Nikki? Are you going to try for one of them? Kathi asked. You should.

She had lots of thoughts about the various donors, but she was there to model, not give impressions. Before she could say anything, Sadie barged back into the conversation.

I’m trying for Thurmon Edwards, Sadie said. He promised me a real diamond necklace.

Nikki dipped her head. I’ll warn you… Thurmon grabs too much and pushes too hard. He’ll promise things and won’t deliver, so be warned.

Sadie frowned, marring her pretty face. You’re just jealous. He didn’t stay with you, and you’re sad.

Yes. She’d tried. Women shouldn’t see each other as competition or try to tear each other down -- not that she hadn’t been guilty of it in the past -- but she’d never convince Sadie that Thurmon was bad news.

It’s too stuffy in here. Sadie sniffed, then left the bathroom.

He is bad news, Kathi said. I dated him, and he tore my dress. Said it was my fault.

I’ll bet. Nikki nodded and winked. She won’t listen, though.

You can’t warn everyone. Kathi shrugged, then left the bathroom.

Are you going to try for one of the basketball players? Collette asked. "So