There are three things I have to protect: My heart, my scars and my life. Even from my best friend.
Some secrets have the power to change lives.
Or ruin them.
What I didn’t expect was for my best friend to walk away when I needed him most.
I made the only decision I could.
And I have no regrets–even if Lars Trouble can’t handle that.
Now I just have to convince my broken heart it’s better off without him.
I don’t do secrets, I hate deceivers and I’m not in love with my best friend.
Or so I thought.
As the man in the shadows, the drummer of the Darling Devils, the person I rely on most is my best friend.
That is until I discover Naomi is a liar.
If walking away from her was hard, learning she isn’t mine to love feels impossible.
And just when I think it’s all finally coming back together, fate steps in and proves me wrong.
But when you love someone, you do the only thing you can. You fight for your love story to begin.
A friends-to-lovers romance to the beat of the Darling Devils – the legends of music.
This novel contains chapters with difficult scenes that might trigger some readers. Please reach out to me for specific details.
“Is that an erection poking the back of my head?” I ask Lars while trying to move without having my skull impaled by the boner my best friend is sporting.
“If you lay your head on my lap to watch TV, Na, that’s the risk you take when there is a naked lady on the screen,” he says, adjusting himself and adding a pillow between his dick and me.
“That’s ridiculous. You got laid last night. You’re such a horn dog.” I sit next to him, abandoning his comfortable lap.
“Did I? Shit, I should pay attention to what my dick does.” He chuckles while I roll my eyes.
“We were at that party, and you left with that girl…” I press pause on the show.
“So you think I got laid. Maybe I didn’t…”
“You didn’t?” I ask, surprised he would pass up such an opportunity.
If Lars Trouble isn’t a manwhore, he isn’t a monk either. If the opportunity presents itself in too tight clothing and an open vagina, he’ll take it.
“Well, we need to define ‘getting laid.’ Are we speaking dick and pussy entertainment or dick and mouth?” He smirks. I reach for the pillow behind my back and slap him with it.
“Ouch! Don’t be jealous! Just because you aren’t getting any doesn’t mean you have to hate me coming in a girl’s mouth!”
“I am getting some, and I’m mad because you ditched me to get sucked off! If only you had given her an orgasm, but nope, Mr. Selfish let her do all the work and gave her nothing in return.” I shove him with my foot, and he takes it in his hand. His fingers start to work their magic right away, and I have to suppress the moan I know will rile up in me from his enchanted touch.
“I told you to stop calling my dick Mr. Selfish! Also, I consider the girl from last night very lucky! I gave her the gift of a Devils’ cum. It was the fastest way to empty my balls and still spend the evening with you. Not my fault you bailed.”
His smug face annoys me.
The Darling Devils had a show in a small venue, something they still like to do for fun from time to time. Then an after-party where pussy was everywhere. There are never a lot of dicks around the Devils, except their roadies, and I’m not attracted to any of them.
Anna and Dan were sucking face.
Art was undoubtedly off somewhere pounding inside a pussy, and I was alone, surrounded by fans trying to get their attention.
So I bailed.
“Whatever. Is your dick limp again so I can resume my position, or should I skip the sex scene altogether?”
His eyes narrow on me. “My dick is never limp. Asleep maybe, but not limp.”
About the Author
Gabrielle G will do anything for a hot cup of tea, still celebrates her half birthdays and feels everyone has an inner temptuous voice.
Born in France and having lived in Switzerland, Gabrielle currently resides in Montreal with her husband, three devilish children and an extremely moody cat.
After spending years contemplating a career in writing, she finally jumped off the deep end and took the plunge into the literary world. Writing consumed her and she independently published her work.
Gabrielle’s style is fiercely raw and driven by pure emotion. Her love stories leave you out of breath, yearning for more, while at the same time wiping away tears.