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Автор Элла Франк
Trust
Ella Frank
Contents
Copyright
Also by Ella Frank
Dedication
Part One
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
Part Two
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
The Popped Cherry
Special Thanks
About the Author
Copyright © 2015 by Ella Frank
Edited by Mickey Reed
Edited by Candace Wood
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 any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Also by Ella Frank
Exquisite
Entice
Edible
Blind Obsession
Veiled Innocence
Try
Take
Temperance
Co-Authored with Brooke Blaine
Volume 1: The Fantasy
Volume 2: The Illusion
Dedication
Part One
Self-Reliance
The belief in one’s own instincts, choices, and opinions.
Chapter One
The bright city lights of downtown Chicago reflected in Logan’s rearview mirror as he checked the lane behind him and merged to the left. With his window down and the breeze ruffling his hair, he floored it up an empty street, thankful it wasn’t yet the coldest time of the year.
It was, however, four fifteen a. m.
Granted, at the time, he’d meant more of the days and weeks variety, but after the night they’d had—and the fact that he’d missed the opportunity to peel Tate out of his tux—the past three hours and fifteen minutes had felt like an eternity.
Earlier in the evening, it had made sense to drop Tate at home, especially since they both had separate places to be today. But when Logan had walked into his condo and crawled between his sheets, he’d discovered that his bed minus Tate no longer offered a comfortable place to rest. Instead, it had made him antsy and hyperaware of how much he desired the company of the sexy, pigheaded man.
