Free and Bound Read online

  My Book

  Genevieve Hanlon

  Contents

  Free and Bound

  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

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Epilogue

  Free and Bound

  A CLUB VOLARE NEW ORLEANS Novel

  (Gavin and Olivia)

  by

  Chloe Cox

  Copyright 2016 Chloe Cox

  All rights reserved.

  1

  Oh my God.

  It was him.

  Him.

  Olivia Cress, sort-of-famous actress and definite consummate professional who always handled herself no matter what the challenge, ran away. She took a step back, looked blankly at the room full of reporters and camera dudes who were all waiting to hear about her new movie, and shut the door in all of their faces. Then she leaned against that wonderfully shut door, and closed her eyes. This whole thing gave her serious déjà vu.

  After all this time? Now? Now?

  She thought she’d been hallucinating at first. Yes, she knew he was in New Orleans. But part of her never believed she’d ever see him again, especially not at a low budget press conference for a movie that was already a disaster.

  But there he was, standing there at the back of the Bastien House community center gym, right by the bleachers, looking like the boy from the wrong side of the tracks who grew up to be the man who owned the freaking tracks. All faded, ripped-up jeans and a white t-shirt that did nothing to hide his muscular build. Tanned skin over corded muscles, and jet-black hair falling over those dark eyes, and all of it hitting Olivia over the head like…like he was a caveman. Like he was a caveman who didn’t even need a damn club.

  He dominated everyone and anything he came into contact with, including the normally uncontrollable press corps.

  So of course she’d run away from him—again.

  And now there was literally nowhere else to go. In front of her was the blank, slightly mottled hallway of the ladies’ locker room of Bastien Center in New Orleans, Louisiana, and to her right was the back door to that community center, and an exit to freedom—and a future where she walked away from acting and the industry entirely, just said “screw it” and let the chips fall where they may. And behind her was the door to the center’s basketball gym, where she was supposed to do this press Q&A thing under the most embarrassing circumstances ever—and where he was now waiting for her.

  Ridiculous.

  Olivia was officially back in New Orleans to help promote the movie she’d done here with Brandon Greer, her extremely famous, extremely ex, ex-fiancé. If an ex was someone you just didn’t quite work with, an extreme ex was someone who’d carpet-bombed your relationship and then salted the earth before doing a little end zone dance on top of it afterward. Brandon qualified for “extreme ex” status by dumping her via surprise text message and then going totally radio silent. Olivia’s little brother had called it “ghosting lite”—Brandon didn’t respond to texts, phone calls, emails. Which would normally be just heartbreaking, but because Brandon was Brandon Greer, famous heartthrob movie star action man, it was also a lot of other things.

  Like career ending, for one, which was a problem because Olivia had been counting on cashing in on her Hollywood luck for a few more years. It was the only way she had to support her family. And then all the magazines ran stories about how she’d never loved Brandon, she’d just manipulated and used him for her own career, and when he found out he’d been heart broken and ended it. Olivia had been dumbfounded.

  “How can they believe that?” she’d asked her agent, Sonny. “What kind of horrible person would do something like that?”

  And he’d looked at her like she was the crazy one.

  “Literally everyone else in Hollywood,” he’d said.

  So now the press thought she was basically Cruella de Vil.

  Sonny also kept telling her that she had to “control the narrative,” but Olivia hated the idea of playing those kind of games, so…here she was. About to face the press as a cartoon villain. The only reason she’d agreed to do this joint appearance with Brandon was because it meant she’d see him for the first time since it happened. Today was supposed to be about getting answers, about the ability to move on. It was supposed to be about closure.

  And instead she’d opened the door and she’d been, for an actual second, unable to breathe. She knew what she’d still see if she closed her eyes, and it was not safe for all audiences.

  Only Brandon was still nowhere to be found. That man out there, the one who could make her feel alive and wanting with just one look, the man that was just waiting out there for her? That wasn’t her ex.

  “You get lost?”

  Olivia started. Her friend Charlene Bastien, who’d helped organize this whole event, poked her head out of the coordinator’s office where she’d been waiting. Charlene ran the charity that owned this place, and she’d agreed to host the press conference mostly to provide Olivia with moral support, and only a little bit to plug her upcoming charity fundraiser.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, honey. And not one of the friendly ones, either. Definitely not Casper,” Charlene said. “What happened?”

  “Not a ghost,” Olivia said, still leaning back against the door.

  The man she’d seen was the Master of Club Volare New Orleans. He was a dangerously sexy Dom. He was the only man Olivia had been with since the breakup. And he was the only man in her entire life who could ever make her lose control.

  Olivia looked at Charlene, and shook her head.

  “I saw Gavin. Freaking. Colson.”

  Gavin owed Charlene big time.

  His old friend had called him up the previous night. “You know that mutual friend of ours,” Charlie had said. “The one you haven’t talked to in a while? The one you ask me about all the time?”

  “What’s up, Charlie?”

  “What’s up is that if you were planning to rekindle your acquaintance anytime soon, tomorrow might be a particularly good time to do it.”

  “Why’s that?”

  But then he’d heard Charlene’s voice catch in her throat. That got his attention.

  “I’m kinda worried about her, Gavin, that’s why.”

  And as Gavin watched Olivia Cress open the door to the ladies’ locker room of the Bastien gym and step out it in front of the cameras, he saw that Charlene had been right to worry, and she’d been right to call him.

  The most beautiful woman he’d ever known looked sad. She looked tired, and she looked like she was under too much damn strain. And it pissed him off, because he knew why.

  He and Olivia had both been real clear on the rules of that prior acquaintance they’d had: no strings, no romance, just sex. When they met, Olivia had just been through the ringer with her dumbass
ex, and the press had just gotten wind that she’d been dumped by a movie star. He’d offered her the use of his hotel room while she hid from those vultures and tried to get her bearings, and even though her past was complicated, neither of them had been able to resist their attraction.

  It had been the best sex of his life.

  Of course, Gavin’s past wasn’t much better than hers. Far worse, actually. He was a Dom though, through and through, and that meant he should have been there to help Olivia out of the kinky closet.

  Because that was a big part of why Olivia Cress was stressed out. She’d gotten curious about BDSM, dipped her toe in while they were holed up in that hotel room together, and then freaked out a little bit when she came face to face with who she really was. It happened all the time, and Gavin knew better than most about where that sort of freaking out could lead. But he’d stuck to his own rules, and he’d kept his distance. And he’d done it to protect her.

  But he’d never stopped thinking about that woman.

  He’d never stopped thinking about the face she made every time he entered her. About the color her skin flushed when she came. About the way her laughter could turn ragged all of a sudden, and her eyes would soften right before she reached for him.

  And he’d never stopped thinking about the sub he knew she could be.

  And that complicated things, because Gavin Colson wasn’t just there to check out an old flame from the cheap seats, and he wasn’t just there to offer moral support.

  He was there because he needed Olivia Cress’s help to save Club Volare New Orleans.

  And then, while he watched, Olivia turned around and darted back through the door she’d just come through, shutting the damn thing behind her.

  “Goddammit,” he said.

  “Sucks, right?”

  Gavin looked down. There was a skinny ginger kid with a camera and a green trucker hat to his right. Talking to him.

  You got no idea, he thought.

  Because the truth was, Gavin already knew he’d do anything to help Olivia. He knew the moment he laid eyes on her again. He’d make sure she had whatever she needed, whenever she needed it. Even if that meant he wasn’t the right Dom for her. Even if that meant…

  He heard himself growl.

  “Jesus, dude,” Trucker Hat said. He breathed on the lens of his camera and rubbed at it in quick, furious movements. “We’ll all get our pics, man. You don’t have to, like, eat anyone.”

  “What?” Gavin was distracted, thinking about how long to give it before he followed Olivia back there.

  “I said we’ll all get our piece,” Trucker Hat said. “Or at least I’m gonna make sure I do. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity man, to be here, today of all days? Once-in-a-lifetime picture, and I’m going to get it.”

  Gavin looked down again. The man in the trucker hat seemed antsy, jacked up. And now Gavin was noticing that so did all these other people. All men, most of them with cameras. Couple of video cameras. All of them tense, taught, focused. Like predators.

  Something was wrong.

  2

  “Charlene, tell the truth,” Olivia said. “Did you know he’d be here?”

  Olivia watched her friend mouth, Who, me? in mock surprise, and couldn’t help but smile.

  “Of course I did. Hell, I called him,” Charlene said. She raised a defiant eyebrow. “Drastic action was required.”

  “Today? When I was supposed to see Brandon? In public?”

  “Especially today,” Charlene said. “And especially because Brandon didn’t show. I was afraid that jackass would disappoint you yet again, and I figured if he did, you might need the distraction. And you’ve been talking about that magical Gavin Colson sex week for literally months now.”

  Olivia smiled.

  “That was a good week,” she admitted. And besides, Charlene had been pretty great about not meddling up until now, even when she found out that the guy Olivia had been talking about all this time was one of Charlene’s oldest friends. Charlene and Gavin had basically grown up together here in NOLA, and then Charlene had been the caterer on the movie Olivia had done in New Orleans. It turned out the world was smaller than either of them thought it could be, but Olivia knew she’d lucked out. Charlene was already one of the best friends she’d ever had.

  “So,” Charlene said, crossing her arms and giving Olivia the once-over. “You ok?”

  Olivia sighed and leaned back against the door that separated her from Gavin. She’d always loved being backstage. Technically this was just a locker room, but anywhere could be backstage, really, as long as it was the place where you could put your guard down and take a breath.

  But she still didn’t feel right, like she’d been taken apart and put back together again in the wrong order. And it was because she had to go out there and pretend everything was fine, even though Brandon was going to really obviously not be there, and Gavin Colson would be.

  Here was the problem.

  The way her agent wanted her to “control the narrative” about getting dumped and simultaneously convince everyone that she wasn’t a manipulative fame whore? Was by getting a new boyfriend. Someone who would somehow be totally fine with having a very public, very fake relationship with a woman he barely knew just for the sake of publicity. That was industry logic for you: if everyone thinks you’re a faking faker from Faketown, convince them that you’re sincere by…faking it.

  And then here was Gavin Colson, the realest man she’d ever met. Real in the sense that he made her feel in a way that she’d forgotten was even possible. Real in that he’d seen a side of her no one else ever had. Even now, the way she felt the grain of the wood against her back, the hardness of the doorknob against her hand—she’d never felt more aware of her body than when she was around him. There was no performance with Gavin Colson. There was no hiding.

  She was always naked around him, whether she was wearing clothing or not.

  Olivia was a good actress, and she took pride in her work, but there were limits. Gavin would take one look at her, and he’d know she was a total mess, and he’d know exactly what she was thinking.

  And she’d be thinking about that magical sex week. About the things they did—and the things he’d done to her. About all the things she’d seen at Club Volare LA, when she was shooting the Submit and Surrender BDSM movie, and about what it would be like if she just did it, if she just threw the rest of her life in the nearest garbage can and showed up at the brand new Club Volare New Orleans, looking for a Dom who would…

  No, not just any Dom.

  But Olivia had people who relied on her, so she had to do what she had to do.

  “Earth to Olivia,” Charlene said. Olivia blinked—Charlene was literally waving a hand in front of her face, and somehow she’d missed it. “Where’d you go?”

  “It’s complicated,” Olivia said.

  Charlene gave some excellent side eye.

  “Is it really?” she said.

  “No.”

  “But you don’t want to tell me about it?”

  “I do not.”

  “Is it because you were thinking about Gavin’s sexy face?”

  “Shut up.”

  Charlene grinned. Olivia had to hand it to her—she had managed to temporarily distract Olivia from the general situation. But that was kind of the problem: she couldn’t let herself get distracted, even by Gavin Colson. Because if Olivia managed to hold it together, if absolutely nothing else went wrong, she might be able to salvage her career, at least. And that wasn’t nothing. That would mean she could be sure her family was taken care of. And she knew what happened when she let herself get distracted.

  “You’re either the best friend ever, or the worst,” Olivia said. Then she hugged Charlene, hard. “Thank you.”

  “Hush,” Charlene said. “I’m going to go get my car and bring it around, and you can just come on out and I’ll go get you drunk. No waiting or anything. We’ll just bust out of here like Thelma and Louise.”<
br />
  “But with a better ending.”

  “But with a better ending,” Charlene agreed. She put her hands on Olivia’s shoulders. “I’m serious, though. Don’t do any more than you have to. You don’t have to tell them about our fundraiser, that was just a crazy idea. You just get in and out.”

  “Are you kidding?” Olivia said. “Of course I’m going to tell them! Otherwise this whole day will be a complete waste.”

  “Ok, well,” Charlene said, smiling as she shouldered her bag, “as long as you kick ass. You ok?”

  “I’m fine,” Olivia lied, and smiled. “Thanks, Coach.”

  “Ok, but for real I have to run. The restaurant ran out of cash for some ungodly reason, so now I have to run to the bank, and you know normally I would never, ever leave you here, but this is like the one thing that literally only the owner can do, and—”

  “Oh my God, go!”

  “I will be back in a flash, I promise, and I will bring comfort pie!” Charlene raised one fist in the air as she walked hurriedly towards the back door, where her car would be parked. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

  “Consider ‘em got,” Olivia said softly.

  Then she turned around, took one more deep breath, and opened the door to the gym.

  What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion.

  Something was different. There was still a crowd of rumpled-looking paparazzi, only they weren’t sitting on the bleachers or just waiting around anymore. They were all gathered up front, right up to the edge of the security barrier set up in front of the table where she and Brandon were supposed to sit and take questions.

  There were even a few television cameras she hadn’t noticed during her first attempt to walk out. There were more people than there should be, actually. And there was kind of a weird vibe, like everyone was holding their breath…

  And then there was Gavin.

  Stupid, sexy, dangerous mountain of man muscle, standing there in the back, just…looming. And then he looked at her, and she remembered, all at once, what it had been like to be with him. To be the person she was when she was with him. To be wanted that badly, and to want someone just as badly. And to come that fucking hard, at his command.