Chosen Love: A BWWM Romance (Blazin' Love Book 4) Read online




  Chosen Love

  Blazin’ Love Book Four

  Ja’Nese Dixon

  Also by Ja’Nese Dixon

  Read the Series

  Blazin’ Love (Contemporary Romance)

  Platinum Love (Book 1)

  Privileged Love (Book 2)

  Exclusive Love (Book 3)

  Chosen Love (Book 4)

  Special Love (Book 5) (Coming June 2019)

  * * *

  Steamy Sensations Holiday Love

  CHOSEN LOVE. Copyright © 2019 by Ja’Nese Dixon

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organization and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Warning: 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 prison and a fine of $250,000.

  * * *

  ISBN-13: 978-1-950405-05-3 (paperback)

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Contents

  About Chosen Love

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Leave a Review

  Join My Newsletter

  Book 1 ~ Platinum Love

  Book 2 ~ Privileged Love

  Book 5 ~ Coming Soon!

  SNEAK PEEK: Rockstar Secrets

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Also by Ja’Nese Dixon

  About the Steamy Sensations Holiday Love

  About the Author

  About the Publisher

  One night…new heights…new lows…new love.

  It’s Memorial Day.

  I had a simple plan. Find a decent guy, get married, have some babies. He didn’t have to wow me, just a nice, normal, safe man. But my safe selection came with strings, and suddenly my simple plan isn’t what I want at all.

  I’m Taylor Wallace. I’m questioning life right now. Whether it’s time to cut my losses and swap Plan A for Plan B. Thankfully, I have a great distraction. I joined my best friends in starting a new business, Platinum Prestige, an elite concierge service.

  Then I meet Zach. His eyes see through my doubts, and his ironclad will steamrolls through my fears. He’s everything I don’t need, yet everything I want. But he’s not part of my plan.

  Our undeniable passion turns my simple life from black and white to vibrant color. It has me wondering why I ever settled for safe at all.

  Then suddenly, my walk on the wild side lands me squarely in his trap…for life. And once again I’m torn between safe and reckless…settling and chosen.

  What’s a woman to do?

  Chapter 1

  Taylor

  Baby mama drama is the worst kind of drama.

  "Fourteen years. Gone. Just like that." I nurse my weak drink checking my watch for the millionth time. I kicked Les' lying, cheating, trifling ass out of my house after his daughter's mother, Jovonta, came to my house dropping bombs bigger than Hiroshima.

  I look up and find the waitress leaning into her hip with major attitude.

  "Would you like anything?"

  "I'm good." She wants this booth empty for the next customer, but I need to burn another hour because I don't want to catch a case messing around with Les and Jovonta. They can take that drama elsewhere because I'm not about that life.

  I came to Smith & Jameson International Beer Garden, my favorite bar, to meet with the guys about Platinum Prestige. It's an elite concierge service my girl Hunter started a little over a year ago. It surprised me when she asked me to join her, Charlee, Harper, Parker, Chase, Jordan, Payton, Alex, and Ryann as an equal partner. But I jumped at the chance to work with my guys. Now, we're working out the kinks before Hunter goes on maternity leave.

  I glance across the room, and the waitress is heading my way again. I bounce across the seat to the end of the booth. I drop a tip on the table and move to the bar. She gives a real smile when she sees the twenty. I give a fake smile back after her nice-nasty attitude all evening, but whatever.

  I sit at the bar looking ahead at my reflection. My hair is in two-strand twists pulled away from my face with a little mascara, eyeliner, and gloss. No foundation or lipstick. Growing up, my mother kept my hair in elaborate styles, and she worked with professional makeup artists. Now, I keep it simple. Maybe that's why Les keeps putting me through this drama.

  "No, it's because he's a no-good dog." I reach for the dispenser, and I fold the scratchy white napkin and dab at my eyes. I won't blame myself. He did this to us.

  "Can I get you something, Taylor?" Martinez asks. He's the regular bartender.

  "Uh..." I glance around trying to decide, but I can’t think straight.

  "How about one of these?" The man next to me taps his glass. I look down, and it appears pinkish-red.

  "What is it?"

  He picks it up, examines it, then he shrugs. "You have to ask him. It's a holiday special and not bad. A little too fruity for me. Join me because I've heard horrible things about people who drink alone." His smile spreads slow, and I feel blessed to witness it. He's handsome with dark brown hair and hazel eyes.

  “I'll take one with extra ice," I tell Martinez.

  “Ahhhh come on. You can't add extra ice. Add her drink to my tab.”

  “No, I can—”

  "I insist. Besides I want to make a toast." He lays a hand on my arm, and I stare at it. His touch sends a pulse of warmth through my body, and I feel my heartbeat kick up a notch. His shining eyes widen, and the hue of his skin deepens. I glance away because it's obvious he feels it too.

  "Thank you." I pull my arm away and twiddle my thumbs wondering, What the hell was that? I clear my throat and reach for the drink placed in front of me. I tip the glass and let a slash pass my lips. It's delicious. I taste a hint of rum and some sort of juice. I turn to the generous stranger. ”What are we toasting to?"

  "My father." His voice is low and gruff. "Let's see..." He holds up a shot glass and I see the hint of tears lingering in his eyes. "To the man, I never knew. He gave me everything and nothing. He served his country with honor and... huh. Happy Memorial Day."

  He touches his glass to mine, throwing back his drink. I watch taking a sip of mine, realizing I'm not the only one having a rough night. I'm not the best person to offer advice, but I feel compelled to ask.

  "Want to talk about it?"

  "It's simple, really. My father died shortly after my birth. He was a Marine. So, he gave me everything...life, wealth, liberty."

  "And the nothing part?"

  "He didn't raise me. So, I can't recall his laugh, his advice, nothing. So, he didn't give me any of the things I needed to mature into the man I am today."

  "I guess that makes sense."

  He laughs, but I hear no humor. "If you understand that, you're worse off than I am. Your turn, gorgeous."

  My eyes snap to his. He’s a stranger. I guess I c
ould tell him because I’m too embarrassed to tell the guys. So, I take a deep breath. "I found out my ex-fiancé got his baby's mother pregnant."

  "Damn." He whistles. "Martinez, refill for the lady."

  "Yeah, that pretty much sums it up." I feel an odd sense of relief saying the words as if it makes it all a hardcore fact. I take the new glass, this time, I can identify the flavors of the rum and pineapple. Yeah, that's what that citrus taste is. I turn to...whatever his name is. "What's your name?"

  "Zachary Russell." He extends a hand in my direction. I hesitate not wanting to touch him again. But I'm not rude.

  "Taylor Wallace." I shake his hand, and instead of pulling away, I hold it for a few extra seconds before placing my hand back in my lap.

  We drink in silence. I turn on the barstool towards the lounge across the room glad there's live music tonight from Isaac Jones and his band. They were a regular act here before signing with Star Status Entertainment.

  "How are you planning to handle your fiancé?"

  "My ex-fiancé." I glance over and back at the stage. Isaac has a fantastic voice. It goes down smooth like this drink. "I'm not doing anything with him. I told him I wanted him out before I get home."

  "Bravo." He holds up a hand and slaps me a high-five, and I laugh. He smiles again, and I can't breathe, and a wicked idea washes over me.

  He places his glass on the bar giving me his attention. I'm entranced by the feline gold quality of his eyes. There's something about his barely-there beard that makes Zachary sexy, and he just might be what I need to scrub Les' infidelity out of my mind.

  "You know what they say about getting over someone."

  "Where is that one going?" He smiles.

  I totally blame my bestie Charlee. She has the weirdest sayings and tonight I'm using it because I don't want to think about Les or about going home to an empty house or about knowing he slept with her and got her pregnant again and... “Zachary, would you like to get out of here?"

  One eyebrow lifts and I can't believe the words came out of my mouth.

  "A responsible man would say no. You're hurt right now. You may see the situation differently after you sleep on it. Because it could all be a misunderstanding."

  "Are you a responsible man?"

  I lean forward trying my best to flirt. I move close enough to see the flecks of yellow in his eyes, and the scent of his cologne surrounds me. I've never really had to flirt. Les was my first and only. But now I'm a single woman fighting to forget.

  "I am a responsible man. But you're asking me after a few drinks. I think it's a crime to seduce an emotionally vulnerable man."

  I throw my head back, laughing. "Emotionally vulnerable?"

  He nods, leaning closer. "Yes. I told you about my father, and it's Memorial Day."

  "Should I take my offer back?” I glance up, his gaze holds me captive, and I want to experience the desire I see directed at me.

  "And shatter my excitement?" He holds a hand over his heart.

  "Excitement?" I'm smiling again, and the sensation becomes a demanding pulse of need.

  "A beautiful woman asking to spend time with an emotional wreck like myself." He shrugs. The joke is barely off his lips before I kiss him.

  The taste of the too fruity drink passes between us. His thin lips sandwich mine, then he tilts his head, and I want more. I slip my tongue in his mouth, and Zachary pulls me to him. This kiss is deep, slow, and daring as our heads are moving back and forth to get the absolute best angle to taste perfection.

  My heart hammers in my chest as he kisses down my jaw to my neck. This too is new. It is hot and heavy and happening in the bar. Then suddenly he pulls away. We're breathing heavy, our chests rise and fall. I want more.

  "Taylor, I'd love to take you back to my place. But I don't want you to wake up and regret your decision."

  "I'm not asking for forever. I want a night of amazing sex. To feel hot and fulfilled and to maybe drown out knowing my ex-fiancé had two kids with another woman while in a relationship with me." I stutter out the words. Les' betrayal hurts, and I want to make the ache go away.

  "Is he here?" He scans the room, his eyes blaze with anger.

  Desire masks the broken places in me where trust used to live, and I want Zachary even if it's only for one night.

  "No." I plant my feet on the floor. I wiggle closer to him because I know he wants me as much as I want him.

  "Let's bounce."

  Chapter 2

  Zach

  “My car or yours?” I can’t believe I’m taking Taylor to my place. I should explain it’s been closed for a couple of years. But right now, talking seems like a waste of time.

  “Yours. What’s your address?”

  I tell her opening the car door. She pulls out her cellphone and is sending a text message as I close her inside. I climb in settling behind the steering wheel.

  Music fills the car. I glance over, and a smile crosses her face.

  I turn over the engine, and my car purrs to life. The new leather smell and a hint of Taylor's perfume fills my nose.

  The volume of the song is high, I reach for the knob, and she stops me. I leave it and let the base boom through our bodies as the city flies past us.

  I went to the bar to drink my blues away. I wonder if it will always hurt. It could be my recent discharge from the Marines, or maybe it was losing my mother, either way, the ache seems more real than ever.

  I went to the Marines to share something with my father, and now I understand. The military made a man of me. But I walked away last week a fraction of the man I was before I entered.

  Repeat tours in Afghanistan changed me.

  “I haven’t fully unpacked.” I pull up in my driveway and into the garage.

  “This is a new place?”

  “No, I’ve had it for a while but used it as a rental until I was discharged.” She reaches to open the door. “I’ll get it.”

  I circle the car and let her out. I like the way she feels in my arms.

  “Are you from here?” Her curious eyes look up into mine.

  "I was born here and raised in Kansas. My mother's family lives there. My father's family is from Texas."

  “That’s why you’re here?”

  “No, I’m here working on a business contract.”

  I open the door and let her inside. The house is more house than I’ll ever need. But it was one of the properties left by my father.

  I drop my keys on the counter. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “No, thank you."

  She's looking around. This may happen, and it may not, either way, I'm thankful for Taylor. I would have sat at that bar drinking alone, at least now I have someone to talk to.

  “Let’s sit in the family room.”

  She pauses, looking at my paintings on the walls. She studies each not rushing, and I study her. Her skin is lighter than peanut butter, she’s average height, toned body, with a nice ass. She looks back at me as if reading my thoughts.

  Her face is a perfect oval with lips that are soft as pillows. She had on gloss until I kissed her, and I want to kiss her again. But I call on my military training to remain in my seat.

  She’s been hurt enough for tonight. I’ll enjoy her company then take her back to her car.

  “Wait…they’re yours?” She points.

  I nod.

  "You're extremely talented." She steps closer, examining my signature in the right corner.

  "Thank you. It's something I learned to embrace in therapy, and it stuck."

  “Therapy?”

  My chest tightens as I search her face for judgment or fear, and I see neither.

  "I was a soldier." That's the best answer I can give. I stand feeling self-conscious. That's not why I brought her here. "I bet you think this is the worst one-night stand ever."

  “No, I’m thinking the exact opposite.” She walks over to me. “Thank you for serving our country, and I'm sorry for your loss." She raises to her tipt
oes and kisses me. Not like at the bar. This is soft as a caress.

  I circle my hands around her neck, holding her mouth to mine. She wraps her hands around my wrists, and I explore her mouth. Her lips are my playground, and she moans, encouraging me to continue. I didn't expect to have a beautiful woman like her with me tonight. I release her sliding my hands around her body. I could kiss her forever.

  I feel her hands hook around my waistband. There’s a tug on my shirt before her hands feather inside. I gasp, staring down into her eyes. The hunger I see makes me believe for a moment she could be mine. A trail of heat follows her as she grips my butt. She moans again, and it vibrates through my chest.

  “You have a nice butt.” Her lips brush against mine as she speaks.

  “Thank you.” I chuckle returning the favor. I tug on the dress bringing the hem up to her waist. I tremble with anticipation the moment I feel her skin beneath my fingers. I step back looking behind her. I kneel and bite at her ass, and she swats at me. "Don’t be selfish. You have plenty to share.”

  And I mean it. I want to take her upstairs to my bedroom. But not without clearing the air. I stand and place a finger under her chin, bringing her eyes to mine.

  "Are you sure about this?" I want to remind her that relationships take more than one night to end. I know. I was married and divorced. It took years to get that woman out of my system. She was like a toxic poison.

  “I am.”