Implode: A Grumpy Meets Sunshine Forbidden Romance (Toxic Desire Book 2), page 1
IMPLODE
TOXIC DESIRE BOOK TWO
VICTORIA DAWSON
PAPER HEART PUBLISHING LLC
Copyright © 2023 by Victoria Dawson
Implode
All rights reserved.
This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
All characters and storylines are the property of the author. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events or people living or dead is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used for reference only.
Publisher: Paper Heart Publishing LLC
Cover Designer: Books & Moods
Editing: Happily Editing Anns
ISBN (Paperback): 978-1-959364-09-2
ISBN (ebook): 978-1-959364-08-5
CONTENTS
Author Note
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
Epilogue
Also By The Author
Acknowledgments
About the Author
AUTHOR NOTE
Implode is the second book in the Toxic Desire Duet that follows the same two main characters throughout both books. It is advised to read the books in order.
It is also advised to start with the Entice Series (Spark of Obsession, Rush of Jealousy, and Taste of Addiction), as story elements are present in those three books that assist in character development and world building.
Trigger Warning: This book portrays what it means to be in a toxic relationship. The physical, emotional, and psychological abuse featured in this book may be triggering and not meant for anyone under the age of eighteen.
To my family members who continue to read my books…
Please stop making this awkward.
1
CLAIRE
The feel of ice cold water splashing over my face causes me to jump out of my sleep. I fly off the couch and cover my face with my hands in case another blast happens.
“What…the…hell!” I’m shivering so hard I can hardly get the words out.
I take a few steps back and wipe my face frantically with the edge of my shirt. My eyes open slowly, and I groan at the sight.
“Just staging your intervention, Claire Bear.”
“Blake!”
“Shhh…or you’ll wake up Henry and he’ll probably invite you to his orgy.”
I rub the sleep out of my eyes, as my body adapts to the sudden cold. “What time is it?”
“Ten till six.”
I toss my hands up into the air in frustration. “You cannot drench me with cold water ten minutes before my alarm is set to go off and call it a fucking intervention!”
“It’s all about making our own rules.”
“Is it? And what is it that you are trying to intervene on? Huh?”
“This…” He points at me. “This…”
“Just say it!”
“Oh,” he sighs. “I don’t actually know, but you are not acting like yourself, and I know it is over that hot specimen of a man. The one with the broody personality and the abs that can open up pickle jars. So, snap out of it before you lose yourself entirely. I want the old Claire back. The one who didn’t take shit from anyone and wiped asses.”
My eyes narrow, and I prop my hands on my hips. “Wiped asses? Really?”
“That’s not what I meant to say. Wiped floors with asses,” Blake corrects, making me laugh.
I let out a sigh. “I’m still me. I am just trying to navigate two breakups within a short amount of time, find an apartment to live in, manage a start-up company, and actually earn some money. I am overwhelmed and lacking the skills to handle everything with grace. So bear with me. Please.”
“I’m sorry, please forgive me.”
“I ate Oreos last night,” I confess.
“Okay.”
“The entire pack,” I clarify.
“Okay.”
“A family pack.”
“Well damn.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t my finest moment.” Maybe I do need this intervention after all. I feel like I’m living someone else’s life and not feeling like myself.
“What brought on the processed foods binge fest?”
“Nic interrupted my evening last night,” I blurt out without thinking. I am careful not to mention the agency and keep things vague. The last thing I need is to be sued for a violation of the NDA. He is annoying enough to take me to court. I just know it.
I thought I knew Nic. I thought we connected beyond just the physical attraction we have for one another. I obviously thought wrong. I don’t know him at all, and he sure as hell doesn’t give a damn about me. It is a hard pill to swallow when you realize that everything you thought you knew about a person was some fabricated fantasy in your head.
Blake’s face changes as he makes sense of my words. “His cock get cold, and he needs your personal warmer?”
I shake my head over Blake’s flowery descriptions. He sure has a way with words. “Not sure. But you basically just described Ethan’s proposition to me.”
“Ew, gross.”
“Exactly.”
“Did he proposition you before or after you beat the shit out of him?”
“Before.”
“Well, let’s get back to Nic. What do you think his deal was?”
“He saw me out having fun with other men and decided he wanted to control yet another situation.”
“Well, what does Angie think of this whole situation? Nic is going to be her brother-in-law, after all. I can’t imagine she is thrilled over this development—especially this close to her wedding shindig.”
I glance away from Blake and mutter, “She doesn’t know about it.”
He snaps his fingers to bring my focus back to him. “So, you’ve been hiding that you had a relationship with Nic Hoffman?”
I shrug. “You know how much stress Angie was under last year, and now with the upcoming wedding, the last thing she needs is to worry about everyone’s feelings, including mine. Knowing her, she would probably try to rearrange parts of the wedding to keep us from interacting, just to keep the peace. I don’t want to do that to her.”
“Because you are a ray of sunshine, Claire Bear. That’s why. No man will ever deserve what you have to offer.”
I give Blake a hug and he slinks backward, making a face. “What’s wrong?”
“You are wet.”
I make a face. “I wonder how that happened,” I say with a laugh.
“We are spending the day together,” he says with certainty. “Nope. Do not even open that pretty mouth of yours. No arguments. I’ve been needing some pampering and you are going to come with.”
I shake my head at Blake. He knows just what will cheer me up. “Where’s the first stop?”
“Hair salon. Or maybe a breakfast shop? No, let’s get food delivered to the salon. Or should we hit up the gym to release some endorphins? Oh, the possibilities. I am getting so excited!”
“I can tell.” I giggle.
“But first, get dressed and put on fancy underwear.”
I look at Blake with confusion. “Why on earth for?”
“Because life is too short for wearing the boring kind.”
“I’m not sure,” I say, looking in the mirror as the male stylist—who Blake can’t stop checking out—stands behind me and mimics what my hair would look like with five inches cut off. “Seems drastic.”
“Do you want to live in the past or make an epic splash into a new outlook on life?” Blake asks, hovering to the side of the stylist. He studies me in the mirror and smiles.
Blake’s been on a pep talk kick since we left the loft. The whole car ride here was full of motivational messages and speeches. It’s like he’s preparing to be a keynote speaker at a conference about my life. I do appreciate it though.
“Fine. But let’s make it seven inches so I can at least donate it to the foundation that makes the wigs for little girls going through chemo.”
“You are going to look extra sexy and sassy with thi
“See? Even he knows that this is a great figurative and literal way of ridding your life of the extra baggage.”
“Now, let’s discuss color,” the stylist says, smiling at me in the mirror.
“What’s wrong with my color?” I ask, holding up a lock of my own hair to examine the shade. I have dark hair that I assume came from my biological father who is Filipino. He’s also credited for giving me my slightly darker skin tone that makes me look golden all year round. But all of this information is speculation. I never met the man and, without anything short of a miracle, never will.
“Have some trust in the expert,” Blake scoffs. He turns to look at the man wielding the hair tools and makes a gesture toward me. “Sorry, she’s very much a work in progress and has deep-seated trust issues.”
I snap my fingers. “Hey! I’m right here, you know!”
“Obvi, Claire Bear, that’s why I didn’t even try to whisper.”
“I think just some auburn highlights would really bring out the beauty of your eyes. Make them”—the stylist smacks his lips at the same time his hands mimic a firecracker—“POP!”
“Ummm, I don’t know,” I say reluctantly.
“That’s why we are here to help you make these lifestyle decisions,” Blake says, as if I’m deciding on which college to attend or something equally as important.
My mouth tips down into a frown. “This just seems highly impractical and totally out of my budget.”
“My treat,” Blake says, rubbing my shoulders from the salon chair, while the stylist digs through booklets and fake hair swatches until he finds the color he is looking for.
My eyes meet Blake’s with confusion. It’s not like he is rich or anything to be able to afford paying for these deluxe treatments.
“I found myself a Sugar Daddy, and he is loaded in more places than one,” he says, filling in the blanks. “If you know what I mean.”
“When?” I ask. Last time I noticed, Blake was very much single.
“Yesterday morning. On a dating app.”
My eyes narrow at him. “Blake…”
“It’s legit this time. No catfishing. No bait and switch. No fakeness. Promise.”
“So you met the man?” the stylist asks, narrowing his eyes at Blake, who is growing annoyed over our interrogation.
“Not yet,” Blake says. “But hey, this isn’t about me today.” He smacks his hands together and returns his attention to our reflection in the mirror. “Give Claire the works. A new chapter in her life deserves to be rewarded with a new book cover.”
It takes about four hours to get my hair cut, highlighted, blown dry, and styled. Neither man allows me to see the finished result until the big reveal time. Blake even snatches my phone out of my hand so I can’t use the front camera to sneak a glance.
“Drumroll, please!” the stylist cheers, hitting his workstation with his hands to produce a drum sound.
Blake spins me around in the chair to place me directly in front of the mirror.
“Wow!” I say, looking at my finished result. My hands go to my hair that is now slightly below my shoulders. Soft layers add some volume and drama to my otherwise flat look. I am styled with loose curls. I can’t believe that just a little color and a new cut could cause this much of a difference. I definitely feel lighter. Free. And my eyes do stand out more with the auburn streaks. “Thank you!”
“You look amazing, Claire Bear. Simply amazing.”
My face can’t stop smiling. Blake was right—as per usual. I needed a change. As we handle the bill, Ethan and his ex-wife walk into the shop hand in hand. I turn my head to try to hide behind my new waves but it is too late.
“Well, this is awkward,” Deena snips, making a face.
“Only because you’re making it that way with your inability to keep your face from turning ugly,” I state coldly.
“How does it feel to be second best?”
“How does it feel to be attaching yourself to a lying narcissist?” My eyes meet Ethan’s swollen ones. I got some good hits in on him, that’s for sure. He looks like he is trying too hard to use makeup to cover up the marks.
“Stop following us, Claire,” Ethan hisses.
“I was here first, you idiot.”
Sidling up next to her man, Deena leans into his ear. “Call the lawyer, Ethan. Enough is enough.” Her words aren’t even muffled, despite her putting her hand near her mouth to pretend to shield them from my ears.
“You are only serving as the butt plug to his asshole. But I guess you do belong together.” Not sure if she can stand any closer to him without falling over.
“Keep it up, Claire,” Ethan finally says with warning in his tone, “and I’ll sue you for harassment and for assault.”
My mouth opens and then quickly closes. He cannot be serious. Is that what Deena meant by telling him to lawyer up? “What did I ever see in you?”
“A huge bank account. Obviously,” Deena answers for him. She gives me a smug smirk and steps closer to her man for added emphasis that he is hers. She can have him. I don’t need that type of negativity in my life.
I have nothing else to say to them. I am done with this toxicity. I turn to my stylist. “Thank you so much. I love my new hair. Let’s go, Blake.” I pull Blake out of the salon and drag him down the street until we are out of sight. “I hate him so bad. Lying cheating bastard.”
“I am proud of you.”
“Me?”
“Yup. You walked out with dignity, and no one needed to call the cops. That is progress.”
“I wanted to mace his face,” I grumble. “Shave his head bald and tweeze out all of Deena’s eyelashes.”
“Ouch!” Blake winces. “You need to keep your eyes to the sun. I didn’t just stage an intervention and a makeover for you to undo all of the good we have done on your spirit today.”
I take a few cleansing breaths and close my eyes. I tilt my head toward the sun and allow the warmth to surround me. Look toward the sun, Claire. I imagine my vision board in my head of the goals I would like to accomplish for myself. I cannot get things done by sulking or sitting around and waiting for opportunities to land in my lap.
“I’m getting a tattoo.”
“Say what?” Blake asks, shaking my shoulders. “Are you being serious? Because I really need you to be serious right now.” He snaps his fingers a few times in front of my face. “Or is this just one of those figurative representations? Like the washable kind?”
“A real one.”
Blake holds his hands up for me to stop talking. “Let me relish this moment for a second.”
“Okay, how—”
“Quit rushing it!” He turns around so his back is to me and lets out a “squeeeeeee.”
I wait until he is facing me again, laughing over his reaction. I think he is more excited about this than I am, and I’m pretty dang excited. “I have always wanted to do it. So, why not today?”
Blake thinks about it for a second and then eagerly shakes his head. “You promise not to pass out?”
“No guarantees. I am terrified.”
“Over the pain?”
I shake my head. “No. I am scared the artist will mess up and it will turn out lame.”
Blake laughs. “Then, there’s only one place I suggest going…”
“Ink Coat?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, let’s do the damn thing before I change my mind.”
“There’s really only one last thing to do to commemorate this revenge body makeover and moving forward ritual,” Blake says, as we eat ice cream cones on the street of Portland from a local shop specializing in all-natural ingredients. We just finished up at Ink Coat and are on the celebration kick.
