Sweet surrender carson f.., p.1
Sweet Surrender: Carson-Fox Resorts Book One, page 1
Sweet Surrender
Carson-Fox Resorts Book One
E. K Hunter
Copyright © E.K Hunter2024
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, Characters, Places, Businesses, Incidents, and Events are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electrical or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover By: Getcovers.com
Edited By: Hunter Author Services
Proofreader: Staceys Bookcorner Editing Services
Created By: Atticus
Trigger Warnings
While this story is not deemed to be a dark romance, the mmc is morally grey and does some questionable things in order to get the girl. Please take time to read the following trigger warnings before deciding if this books is for you.
Blackmail
Dub-Con
Somnophilia
Stalking
Mentions of child abuse (Not detailed on page)
Mentions of suicide (Not detailed on page)
Death of a parent during childbirth (Not detailed on page)
Death of a parent to dementia
Drug abuse
Playlist
In My Room – Insane Clown Posse
Choke – Royale & The Serpent
I Hope ur Misererable Until ur Dead – Nessa Barrett
Nightmare – Halsey
Mastermind – Taylor Swift
Fuck Away The Pain – Divide The Day
Bad Things – MGK, Camila Cabello
Zero Feelings – Zoe Clark
Crack The Shutters – Snow Patrol
Just The Same – Charlotte Lawrence
She Looks So Perfect – 5 Seconds Of Summers
Fantasy – Lauren Spencer Smith, GAYLE & Em Beihold
Hate Me – Nico Collins
Hate That I Love You – Rihanna, Ne-Yo
Back To You – Louis Tomlinson, Bebe Rexha
Blonde – Maisie Peters
You Broke Me First – Tate McRae
Lose Control- Teddy Swims
Let’s be honest.
In our fantasies, we think we want to be dominated by a controlling a-hole who secretly worships at our feet, and thinks they know what’s best for us.
The truth is, we don’t need that. We know exactly what WE want, and we don’t need anyone telling us what we can and can’t do.
But if you want to indulge in your fantasies, then Nash Carson is waiting for you….
Chapter 1
Savannah
Why life had a way of fucking you in the ass without any lube when you were already down on your luck, I didn’t know. But it was a question I asked myself as I rested my head against the steering wheel of my car.
The horn blared loudly in an annoying scream from where I’d smashed into the rear of a very nice, and no doubt incredibly expensive Bentley.
Muttering to myself, I ignored the man tapping at my window, calling out a question I had no answer to.
Was I okay?
I wasn’t hurt. But okay?
Far from it.
I hadn’t been okay for the last four months when my world had been flipped upside down, and it was going to take me a long time until I resembled anything near okay again.
I cursed under my breath when he knocked a second time. Sooner or later, I was going to have to face the music.
It would have been slightly less mortifying to step out of the car if I wasn’t covered in bean juice, courtesy of a little shit who’d run head first into me because his mother wasn’t watching him properly.
She’d been too engrossed in gossiping with her friend to keep an eye on her kid, who’d plowed straight into me as I carried a fried breakfast to an impatiently waiting customer.
I didn’t have time to think about what was happening, it was either me getting coated in the breakfast or the little sprog, and given that my boss, Harry, insisted the customer always came first, I had little choice but to take the hit.
Not only was I covered from tit to toe in beans, but the customer who’d been eagerly awaiting his food had shouted at me as if it was my fault his breakfast ended up all over the floor.
As a means of an apology, I’d asked Paul, our chef at Bean and Gone diner, to plate him up another breakfast, knowing full well the loss would be coming out of my wages.
Wages I couldn’t afford to lose, even if it was only a few dollars.
I wish I could say that getting covered in beans was the only thing to go wrong, but from the minute my eyes opened at the ass crack of dawn, fate was against me.
First, the shower in my crappy apartment stopped working seconds after I’d lathered my hair in shampoo. The pathetic drip, drip, drip that came from the showerhead wasn’t enough to get the soap out, and knowing the clock was against me, I had to resort to other means.
I couldn’t be late, I depended on my job way too much. Harry was a great boss, a fair one, but he’d made it clear that he didn’t stand for lateness.
Not having any other choice, I wrapped a towel around me and headed to the kitchen, where I bent over the sink and used a cup to rinse my hair.
Of course, that would have been too easy, and evidently, the universe hated me today.
As I was bent over the sink washing the shampoo out of my hair with fucking freezing cold water, my towel slipped and fell to the floor.
Ordinarily, it wouldn’t have been a problem. I had a blind up to stop my neighbor from looking in, but as bad luck would have it, it broke several days before, and I didn’t have the funds to replace it.
I’d nicknamed my neighbor Pervy Pete, mainly because whenever he tried to talk to me, he would spend the entire duration with his eyes fixed on my chest while constantly running a hand over his groin.
If that wasn’t enough of a turn off, the fact that he was at least forty years older than me, and smelled like he hadn’t washed for at least thirty of those years definitely would have been.
I did my best to avoid Pete whenever I left my apartment, but typically, at the very moment the towel fell, Pete was in his kitchen looking ridiculously happy at the unintentional strip show I was giving him.
To make it worse, he must have thought I was giving him the come on, because seconds later, he pulled his grubby pants down, flashing his semi-erect cock with a manic grin on his ugly face.
Horrified, I scrambled to get my towel back up and rinse the last of the shampoo from my hair, doing my best to ignore the morning treat Pete was giving himself. I vowed then, that even if it meant not eating for a week, I was going to replace the blind.
Thanks to my crappy shower, and the image of Pervy Pete knocking one out, my mood was already in the gutter by the time I made it out of my apartment and to my beat-up car, only for it to not start.
I bought my Honda on the cheap from Harry two weeks ago. He was about to send it to the scrap yard when I begged him to sell it to me. I didn’t particularly want to spend the money on a car, but public transport to the diner wasn’t reliable, and it was too far to walk.
With winter falling, and the days getting colder, I needed to either find a better way of getting to work or risk getting ill from standing out in the cold while I waited for the bus, and then I’d miss work anyway.
Harry reluctantly sold it to me at the value he would have got for it at the scrap yard- a grand total of $50. It wasn’t exactly a dream machine, but it got me from A to B, and that was all I needed it for. I ignored the fact that several warning lights went off every time I started the ignition.
By the time I got the car started, I was already late for work. I drove as fast as I could, which given we’d had thick ice overnight, wasn’t very fast, not if I wanted to make it to the diner in one piece. When I eventually reached Bean and Gone, I was ten minutes late, and the morning rush had already started.
Despite Harry giving all his staff lectures about being on time, he was often late, but as I’d already established, today the universe hated me, so of course this was the one morning Harry was on time.
Sheepishly, I’d gone into the diner and begged for his forgiveness, promising to make up for my lateness by staying on for an extra hour for free when my shift finished.
Thankfully, Harry agreed. I was still on probation after all.
The morning shift went smoothly, aside from Trent, the overly-friendly car salesman asking me out on a date for the umpteenth time. It was a daily occurrence, and despite my answer always being a resounding ‘no’, he continued to ask, and quite frankly, it was beginning to grate on me.
Don’t get me wrong, Trent wasn’t at all bad to look at, what with his blond hair, hazel eyes, and chiseled features, not to mention I was sure he was packing some muscle under his designer suits. But I’d made a vow to stay far away from anyone who had a penis for the rest of my life.
Trent finally left just before the lunchtime rush started, and that was when the bean juice incident happened. After that, everything went wrong.
The coffee machine broke when I tried to make a latte with a double shot of espresso. One of my customers ran from their booth without paying, and a bag of trash split open with the rotting food contained within spilling everywhere. The stench was revol
To top it off, the health inspector paid us a sneaky visit, announcing his true identity after an hour of witnessing the chaos, and telling Harry he needed to buck his ideas up.
Needless to say, I was more than happy when my shift finally ended. That was until I accidentally rammed my car into the back of the sleek Bentley.
If I was honest, I didn’t really know what happened. I saw the lights were red. I hit the brakes, but for some reason, the car didn’t slow. The next second, I was thrown forward, and my head slammed into the steering wheel. The airbag failed to deploy, and the sound of crumpling metal rang out into the evening sky.
I knew my car needed some work done to it, but the brakes had always been fine.
Until now.
Unable to ignore the suited man tapping at my window any longer, I grimaced as I opened the car door, prepared for him to chew my ear off for damaging his car.
He looked like a businessman in his perfectly tailored suit, and if I had to guess his age, I would have said mid-40s. He was a handsome man, with light brown hair which was shaved short, like how a soldier would have it, and his caramel colored eyes were framed by dark-rimmed glasses.
“Are you okay, Miss?” he asked politely once I’d got out of my car, his brows pulled together in worry.
Slamming the door shut behind me, the horn stopped blaring, bringing some much needed quiet to my ringing ears. The man’s eyes raked over my body, but not in a leering way, more like he was checking for any obvious injuries.
“I’m okay. Are you?” I replied, ignoring the dull ache growing in my neck and head, and casting my eyes over him to make sure he wasn’t hurt. Upon finding him uninjured, a slight pang of relief flushed through me.
“Oh, yes. We’re fine. But I’m afraid your car isn’t,” he said. It was only now I realized he had an English accent, and to my surprise, he remained calm, almost sounding jovial.
Maybe I wasn’t going to get shouted at after all.
“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened. I hit the brakes but the car didn’t stop. I think I might have hit some ice,” I explained quickly, looking behind me and hoping to see a patch of ice to back up my claim. When I didn’t see anything, I side-stepped him to check how badly damaged our cars were.
I cursed under my breath when I saw how bad it was. There were no two ways about it, my car was fucked.
I must have collided harder with the Bentley than I’d initially thought. Either that or the beast of the SUV was made with reinforced metal, which was highly likely seeing as the front of my Honda was completely crumpled, while the Bentley had escaped with only a tiny dent.
“Accidents happen, Miss,” the man said, having followed me around to where our cars were almost touching. “The main thing is, you’re not hurt. Besides, the insurance policy will cover the damages.”
Fuck.
I didn’t have insurance.
Yeah, I was aware of how damn stupid that was, but I could barely afford to put gas in the car, let alone insure it. I figured that if I drove it only to and from work, and drove super carefully, then it was a risk I could take.
Wasn’t that biting me on the ass now?
I didn’t reply. Instead, I crouched down to look at the damage to the Bentley, my stomach plummeting to the soles of shoes as panic consumed every inch of my body. Even if it was just a small dent, how much would it cost to fix the bodywork on a car like this?
The panic wrapped around my lungs, gripping it so tight that I couldn’t breathe.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Miss? You’ve gone very white,” the man said, coming to hover beside me.
I quickly stood, doing my best to stop the tremble that had started in my legs from spreading any further. He was going to be so pissed when I told him I didn’t have insurance, and I couldn’t not tell him.
“I’m fine, I...erm…I,” I said, trying to find the words.
“Have you got a recovery service you could use to collect your car?” the man said, interrupting me before I could confess my sins.
For a second, my heart stopped beating.
This was getting worse.
Of course I didn’t have a recovery service.
“Oh, no. It’s fine,” I said, my voice turning high-pitched as despair started seeping into my bones. “I only live a few blocks down the road, I’ll just drive it home.”
The man looked at me as if I’d lost my marbles which was a fair observation, my brain was slowly going into meltdown. It was as clear as day that my car was in zero state to drive anywhere, especially with the pool of fluid now starting to spread onto the road from underneath it.
“Erm, Miss, I don’t think you’ll be able to drive it anywhere,” he said, giving me a look full of pity. “Your front wheel isn’t pointing in the right direction.”
At his words, my eyes landed on the front wheel. How it hadn’t fallen off when I slammed my door, I didn’t know. I scrubbed a hand down my face in frustration.
What the hell was I going to do? I couldn’t pay for a truck, nor could I leave the blasted thing abandoned on the side of the road. Brownsville, Oregon was only a small place, it wouldn’t take the cops long to find out who the car belonged to, and I didn’t need them turning up on my doorstep to fine me for dumping it.
Or even worse, sending me to prison because I didn’t have insurance.
Before I could come up with any kind of response, a deep, gravelly voice sounded from behind me. “My driver is right, your car isn’t going anywhere. It’s not safe.”
I turned to find who the newcomer was, and instantly regretted my self-imposed ban on all men. But it was probably a good job I had put myself on a ban, otherwise, there was a good chance I would have stripped down naked, right there and then, and begged him to fuck me.
Without knowing a single thing about him, I knew he was the type to turn a woman’s world upside down, before walking away without any fucks given, leaving her broken and in ruins. I’d had my fill of that to last me the rest of my life, thank you very much.
The newcomer towered over my five foot, six inches, and I had to tilt my head back to look up at him. He oozed power and confidence, and looked like someone you didn’t argue with. I didn’t usually shy away from anyone, yet this man made me feel like finding the nearest corner and huddling in it to protect myself from the heartache he would undoubtedly cause.
His shoulders were wide, and a lean, toned body was evident under his tight designer suit. A suit that looked as if it cost more money than I made in a year, tips included.
Smatters of two-day-old dark brown stubble graced his strong jawline, the same color as his short hair which had been swept back and held with product, not a single strand out of place.
When my eyes fell to his mouth, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to feel his stubble rubbing against the apex of my thighs, and my cheeks heated as I tried to push the thought away, especially when his full lips pulled into a knowing smile.
But it was his eyes that caught my attention. Stunning silvery-gray eyes met mine, and a feeling of familiarity crept over me.
Did I know him from somewhere?
No. I was certain I would have remembered a man like him.
“Are you hurt?” he said, rubbing a finger over his mouth.
The movement drew my eyes to his hand, finding the back of it covered in black ink which disappeared under the sleeve of his suit. From the brief glimpse before I looked away, it appeared like he had tattoos of playing cards and casino chips.
“No, I’m okay,” I replied, my voice filled with the sudden onset of nerves from the intense stare this beautiful stranger was giving me.
“Good, that was quite a hit,” he replied, his eyes flicking over to the car, his tone full of concern.
“Yeah. I’m so sorry about your car, I think I must have slid on some ice because I hit the brakes but,” I trailed off and waved a hand towards the wreck, indicating what happened next.
“No harm, no foul,” he shrugged.
“Mr. Carson, I was just asking the young lady if she knew of a recovery service who could tow her car,” the driver said, causing both me and the other man to look at him.
Truth be told, I’d forgotten he was there.
