Fused With Him (Merge #2), page 1
FUSED WITH HIM
THE MERGE SERIES, BOOK 2
KYLIE KENT
CONTENTS
Please Stalk Me
Front Matter
Dedication
Blurb
Fused
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
Foreword
Devilish King
Devilish King
Also by Kylie Kent
Acknowledgments
About Kylie Kent
Copyright @2021 by Kylie Kent
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book contains profanity, sexual content and violence. If any of these are triggers for you, you should consider skipping this read.
Ebook ISBN 13: 978-0-6489981-2-9
Paperback ISBN 13: 9780648998136
PLEASE STALK ME
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Cover Illustration by
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Proofreading & Re-edited by Kat Pagan
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DEDICATION
For my sister, Lynne-Maree, who taught me to always fight for what we want in life and to never stop reaching for our dreams.
BLURB
Reilly
I learnt the hard and painful way that men don’t stay, ever. Even the ones you trust the most can be taken away in the blink of an eye. It’s easier to keep them at a distance. I have my fun with men and then part ways.
I’ve spent the last five years of my life avoiding any and all emotional connections with men. I’ve been successful at it too. I’ve built up walls with so much mortar and rendered them around my heart.
That is, until Bray freaking Williamson came barging into my life with his perfectly sculpted tattooed body and entrancing green eyes. He was like being tempted by the most delicious chocolate brownie, the perfect mixture of rough on the outside and soft and gooey on the inside. He came at me with his damn bulldozer, effectively destroying my carefully constructed walls, brick by brick, leaving a pile of rubble behind.
Do I follow what my fragile heart wants and give into temptation? Give him the key to my heart, knowing how easily he could crush it? Or should I follow my brain and run far, far away from this god of a man?
Bray
I’m a fighter not a lover. I’m ruthless in the cage, an undefeated champion.
I always fight for what I want, and I always win no matter the odds. What I want comes in the form of a beautiful, feisty, independent redhead.
She won’t agree to be mine, yet, but I’m happy to agree to disagree with her on that, because she is mine. She wants to run? That’s fine. I’ll run faster. She wants to hide? I’ll hunt her and I won’t stop until I find her. Everyone in Sydney is about to learn that the fusion of Bray and Reilly is happening.
Run, hide and deny all you like—I’m a fighter and this is one fight I won’t give up on. Brielly is here to stay.
Fused
“to come together to form a single unit”
PROLOGUE
GUILTY. The word repeats through my mind as the sound of the judge’s gavel bangs heavily, echoing in the courtroom. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Guilty. The word keeps repeating. I know the judge is delivering the sentence, but I can’t concentrate on anything other than that one word.
I look across to my sister, Holly, my twin, my other half, and see the tears free falling down her face—her hands are trembling slightly. Holly brings her eyes to meet mine. No words are needed. I know exactly what is going through her head right now. What the fuck are we going to do now? How do we survive this?
Holly is sitting on the other side of my mother, both of us grasping one of her hands in ours, knowing if we let go, even for a minute, she would crumble to the floor. My mother’s tears are not silent. Her cries I’m sure can be heard across the city.
As I sit here, repeating the word over and over in my head, I have to wonder how much one woman can take before she completely breaks. My mother is strong, probably one of the strongest women I know, but this last year, to say it’s been tough is an understatement.
My little brother Dylan was killed in a car accident. My mum was driving home after a footy game when a drunk driver swerved into her lane. She escaped with a broken leg, my brother, my baby brother who was only fifteen, died on impact. Making the sign of the cross, I send a little prayer upwards as I think of my brother. I’ve never been a very religious person; each prayer I’ve sent heavenly these past twelve months has gone unanswered and a bit of my faith has diminished alongside them.
There was a court case for the drunk driver, where he got off. He killed my brother and managed to get out of doing any time in a cell, where he bloody belonged. This destroyed my father, to know that the person who killed his son was out walking around free. It did not sit well with him.
My father decided to take matters into his own hands. He followed the drunk home one day and shot him, point blank in the head. A clear kill shot. I don’t feel any remorse for the drunk, maybe I should. Maybe I’m a horrible person not caring that my dad took the life of another. But that son of a bitch killed my brother and has led to the events of today. To my family being torn apart even more.
At seventeen years old, I’ve just finished high school and should be out celebrating and living life to the fullest before I have to start university next year. But as I hold my mother’s weeping body up, and attempt to listen as the judge drones on, all I can think is how am I going to survive this? How are my mum and sister going to survive this?
My father has just been sentenced for murder. He’s been my rock my whole life, and now I have to figure out how to get by without him, without having his support and guidance, his unyielding love.
My mother’s scream startles me out of my thoughts and I watch as she falls to the floor, Holly dragged down with her force. I can see her heart breaking. They were supposed to grow old together. My mum and dad were the definition of soulmates, of true love.
As I watch my mother crumble, I make a promise there and then that I will never let a man have that kind of hold over me. I will never get so attached to a man that my life would fall apart the moment they are no longer in it. And I swear on everything holy that I will never let myself fall in love.
CHAPTER ONE
Reilly
I FEEL like I’m in a furnace. Why is it so damn hot in here? Wait, where is here? As the sleep fog slowly recedes from my brain, and the more alert I become, the more the realisation that I’m not in my own bed sinks in.
My stealthy attempt to roll out from beneath the heavy arm currently draped over my waist is stopped when that arm grips me tighter, pulling my back right up against a chest. I freeze, hoping not to wake whoever that arm belongs to.
Taking a look down at that arm, that very muscular and tattooed arm, a not so silent moan escapes my lips. The events of last night slowly returning to my mind, I know just who that arm belongs to. And the body that goes with that arm, comes in the form of a six-foot something with muscle on top of muscle. Just thinking of what that body can, and did, do to mine has me re-thinking my escape plan.
What can one more round in the hay hurt? One more glorious moment of our bodies fusing together before I make my break and never indulge in this body of sin again. I squirm, rubbing my ass into his crotch. I can feel his hardness as I continue to squirm against him.
The arm around me tightens, somehow pulling my body even tighter against his. His gravelly voice murmurs in my ear, causing goosebumps to rise all over my body.
“You know, babe, if you want junior to come out to play, all you have to do is ask? He’d be willing to be yours anytime.”
Rolling over to face him, I grab his junior in my hand and stroke it up and down s
“Mmm, I think I’d like to have a playdate with junior just one more time before I have to go,” I declare, ducking my head down, not able to make eye contact with him.
I don’t know why but the man makes me freaking nervous. He causes butterflies, no, not butterflies, more like a hive of bees buzzing around my stomach. It’s unnerving, and usually I’d be out the door before he could blink. But his junior, I know what that thing can do, and I want more of it. Just one more time, I tell myself.
“Babe, if you think I’m letting you go after just one more time, think again.” His voice is so stern and serious, I look up into eyes that are trained onto my face. Shit, I think he might actually be serious. Just as I’m about to refute his claims that he can keep me, I’m interrupted by the banging of a door. But it’s what’s yelled through the house that has my body freezing and my mind in a panic.
“Police, open up!”
More banging ensues and more demands to open up. Bray curses under his breath as he jumps out of bed and makes quick work of putting clothes on. Looking back at me, he says, “Whatever you do, stay here. Do not leave this room. I want you here in this bed when I sort this shit out.”
Well, fuck that. I’m pulled from my dazed and lust- filled brain and chuck on the first thing I find discarded on the floor. Which happens to be the shirt he was wearing last night.
My eyes scan the bedroom and land on my phone. Picking it up, I head for the door. Just as my hand lands on the handle, Bray’s hand closes around mine, stopping my hasty escape.
“Reilly, you’ve lost your damn mind if you think for a minute, I’m letting you walk out of here, especially dressed like that.”
Pulling my hand out from under his, I turn and shove at his chest, his rock-hard freaking chest. Instead of letting my thoughts wander to what I could do with that chest, I let the anger boil up inside of me, the frustration that I put myself into this position. I can still remember when those knocks and those words were said through the door of my childhood home, only they weren’t looking for some guy I just met. No, they were looking for my father.
I can feel the tears threaten to escape my eyes with the memories, which only makes me madder. I am not this vulnerable. I do not let myself be this vulnerable girl. I’m strong, independent, and I plan to keep it that way.
I push him further away from me, which he obviously allows me to do because, let’s face it, there’s no way I could actually move this hulk of a man. “No, you don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do. You and I, we had a great time last night, but that’s it. I’m out. I hope you enjoy your time in handcuffs,” I say as I step back to the door.
Bray goes to take a step towards me and I hold my hand out to stop him. “If you so much as touch me right now, or try to stop me from leaving this room, I will scream bloody murder, and those cops out there will break your door down, I’m sure.”
I watch as he takes a step back, his fists clenching and unclenching as he watches me walk out the door. I can feel him behind me the whole way through the house. I don’t turn back to look though.
Pulling the door wide open, I give the officers my brightest smile. “Officers, I believe the man you’re looking for is right behind me. You all have a nice day now.”
Walking down the path, I don’t stop, I don’t look back, and I don’t let the first tear fall until I’m halfway down the street and out of view.
Swiping the traitorous tears from my face, I straighten my shoulders. I will not let myself go back to that place, back to the memories of my dad being taken away in cuffs. Shit, I have no idea where the hell I even am. How am I going to get home?
“Okay, you can do this, Reilly, just call Holly. She will come and get you.” I know I probably look like an escapee from the mental asylum right now. I’m currently wearing a man’s t-shirt and nothing else; although said shirt falls down just above my knees. It doesn’t matter that I’m more covered than I was last night in the club, yet somehow, I feel so much more exposed. The fact that I’m talking to myself does not make me seem any saner right now.
I call Holly, who, after screeching her way through her holier than thou lecture about yet again having to collect my ass from a strange neighbourhood, agrees to come and pick me up.
So now I’m sitting under a huge shady gum tree, waiting. As I take in my surroundings of a tree-lined street with huge mansions, I’m in awe as well as shock that this is the street Bray lives on. It is not what I would have picked for him. This street screams the family home, wife, husband, 2.5 kids and a dog. Not the hot as sin, tatted-up bad boy I had last night.
I squeal as I’m swiftly thrown over a shoulder, a big broad shoulder. Clinging to the back of his shirt, I can feel the muscles clenching underneath as he carries me through his house. My head upside down, I can’t even get a good look at his home as he makes his way through to what I’m hoping is his bedroom.
“Bray, let me down. I can walk. I’m too heavy and you’ll probably put your back out or something, and I really like this back. I wouldn’t want to hurt it.”
“Not a chance in hell am I putting you down, pumpkin. Well, not until I’m throwing you down onto my bed, which is happening real soon.” He slaps my ass before he adds, “Don’t ever fucking try to tell me that you’re too heavy again. Your body is the definition of perfection.”
Mmm, I can’t help but squirm at the stinging pain on my ass. As hard as I try not to let the moan escape my mouth, it does. Bray takes note of my reaction, groaning and landing another, firmer slap to my butt.
“Like it a little rough, huh? Good news for you, babe, I like to fuck rough and hard. Get ready, because you’re in for a night you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.”
All of a sudden, I’m flying through the air, landing on my back, on what can only be described as a cloud. Damn, is this his bed? I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything so bloody soft and comfy. I don’t have time to contemplate the quality of Bray’s mattress and bedding; my mind is immediately drawn to the hulk of a man currently pulling his shirt over the back of his head, revealing one hell of a body.
My eyes travel from his broad shoulders and wide chest down to his—wait, is that an eight pack? My attempts at counting are
interrupted by his commanding voice, snapping me out of my daze.
“Strip, now, Reilly. I won’t ask again.”
Staring up at him, I’m both at a loss for words and confused at the wetness that just pooled between my legs by his demand. Or is that from the sight in front of me? Because let me tell you, the sight of a shirtless Brayden Williamson is enough to have any girl weeping.
The next thing that registers with my brain is the sound of material ripping. Holy shit, I look down to see my dress literally ripped in half. What the hell? Lifting my eyes to meet Bray’s, I momentarily get lost in those emerald beauties.
“What the fuck, Bray? That was one of my favourite dresses!” “I told you to strip. You were too slow.” He lifts an eyebrow at me, just begging for me to argue.
“Well, maybe give a girl some bloody warning next time you plan to just strip your shirt off. I can’t help it if I was momentarily lost in the Bray-effect. You’re replacing this dress, and just so you know, it wasn’t cheap.”
