Love or Lust Read online

  Contents

  About the Author

  Also by Rachael Brownell

  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

  About the Author

  Also by Rachael Brownell

  About the Author

  Rachael Brownell is an award-winning author of young-adult and new-adult romance. She resides in the midwest with her husband and son. To learn more about Rachael and her books, follow her on social media, join her reader group on Facebook, Brownell’s Book Lovers, or sign up for her monthly newsletter.

  For more information…

  www.AuthorRachaelBrownell.com

  [email protected]

  Also by Rachael Brownell

  Friends-to-lovers Romance…

  For All The Wrong Reasons

  For All The Right Reasons

  Worth The Fight

  Chasing Fate

  * * *

  Second-chance Romance…

  Half Truths

  Always in My Heart

  A Million Little Reasons

  Imperfect Love Story

  Imperfect Love Story: New Beginnings

  Sticks & Stones

  * * *

  Dark, gritty, sexy Romance…

  Dark Bishop

  Caught in the Storm

  Surviving the Storm

  * * *

  Office Romance…

  Damaging Rumors

  Devious Rumors

  Delicate Rumors

  Deserving Rumors

  Devastating Rumors

  Defensive Rumors

  * * *

  Romantic Comedy…

  Dating Dilemma

  * * *

  Young-adult Romance…

  Holding On

  Unglued

  Weakness

  Flawed Reality

  Take A Gamble

  Snapshot

  Chapter One

  Day 1

  This is not how I planned to spend my twenty-third birthday. Not even close.

  I’m not even sure how I let Naomi talk me into this. Sure, I was in a vulnerable state. Angry and hurt. Drunker than I’d been in years. I was still conscious, and after being best friends with Naomi for more than five years, I should have known better than to agree to any plan she concocted.

  Especially when she was pouring the drinks.

  Especially when she was as pissed off as I was.

  Most importantly, I should have known better than to agree to anything when her eyes were filled with revenge the way they were three months ago. The day I caught my fiancé cheating on me. Because as hurt and broken as I was, Naomi was irate. When I showed up on her doorstep in tears, unable to tell her more than it was over between strangled breaths the first hour I was there, she flipped her shit.

  A pissed-off Naomi makes for a force to be reckoned with. You don’t mess with her people. She doesn’t give you a second chance. Once you screw up, she’s done with you. The only thing on her mind is to make you hurt the way you made someone else hurt.

  The focus of her rage became my ex, Wren.

  And somehow, she convinced me this was the way to get back at him. To show him what he lost. To prove to him he made a mistake. Not that I would ever take him back. Cheating was a non-negotiable for me. Once a cheater, always a cheater.

  So why am I in a limo, pulling up to a house I will never be able to afford, in a dress that cost more than a month’s rent?

  Because my best friend in the world fed me booze and convinced me a reality TV show was a great way to rub it in Wren’s face that he screwed up.

  The difference between Naomi and me? She actually thinks this will be good for me. That I’ll fall in love and live happily ever after. Me? I think it’s all a bunch of scripted bullshit.

  I’ve seen my fair share of shows like this. Love or Lust is no different. They pit people against each other. Record everything but only show clips, altering the situation to make for good TV. Everyone is good looking, desirable. The guys are going to be assholes behind the scenes, and the girls are going to be caddy bitches.

  Again, why am I doing this?

  Besides the fact Naomi talked me into it and forced me to fill out the application while I was still intoxicated?

  Oh, yeah. It pays. A lot. And for every week I survive, the payout grows higher. Money I desperately need because I have no place to call home, no job, and my future has been destroyed. All thanks to my cheating ex.

  The limo rolls to a stop, and as I reach for my purse, I momentarily forget about the camera in my face, accidentally kicking the cameraman with my stiletto.

  On instinct, I apologize but he doesn’t respond. I was told not to acknowledge them. Not to look directly into the camera. Both of which I’ve done more than I care to admit since I was picked up from the airport an hour ago. It’s hard when you know they’re there. You’re alone. Freaking out. Feeling out of place and uncomfortable.

  The door opens, and a short, older man extends his hand to me.

  Ed Robbins.

  The host of Love or Lust.

  He’s good looking for a man in his late forties. Salt and pepper hair. Strong jawline. Warm smile. He’s wearing a suit tailored to his trim, fit body. If the show was geared toward cougars and DILFS, he would be a strong contender.

  “Presley, welcome,” he says as he helps me from the car. It’s a good thing he’s holding on to me. I feel as unsteady in these heels as I do unsure about being here.

  After a short talk as he escorts me into the house, with the cameras following us of course, I’m given a packet by his assistant before she whisks me away to my villa.

  “Here we are,” Claudia says. She’s a perky redhead who seems to know the ins and outs of the show. She’s walking and talking at a pace I can barely keep up with, and not just because of my shoes. “These are the girls’ villas. You’re in number six. Your luggage will be delivered shortly if they haven’t already dropped it off. Feel free to look around, familiarize yourself with the property, but we ask that you stay out of the main house for now.”

  When she comes to a stop in front of a cozy little cottage, I’m relieved. “The rest of the contestants will be arriving soon, and your first group meeting is tonight. Please make sure you read through your packet entirely, especially the schedule. Contestants are required to participate in all activities. If you have any questions, my cell phone number is also in the packet. I’ll be your point of contact during your stay, so don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. Good luck, Presley.”

  She’s already rushing back toward the main house before I can thank her. I imagine I’m not the only person she’s responsible for.

  Her word choice makes me want to laugh, but it’s also a reality check. Because this is a contest. You want to last as long as possible. The goal is to make it to the end and leave here with the grand prize.

  And to fall in love . . . yeah right.

  I don’t see that happening. In fact, I don’t see the lust part happening either. I’m not particularly interested in jumping into bed with anyone right now. I’m certainly not ready to open my heart to another man any time soon. I’ll play the part, though, in the hope I can make it another week, one step closer to the big money.

  Then, I’ll go home, get my life together, and move on.

  My bags are waiting for me inside the door, but I barely glance in their direction as I take in the beautif
ul little house. To my right, a cozy sitting area, complete with two bookcases filled with books. I’ll be checking those out later. To my left, French doors that lead to the bedroom with attached bath.

  Straight ahead is the kitchen and dining area. White marble countertops and stainless-steel appliances. A cute high-top, bar-style table that seats two. My favorite accessory, the wine rack, already filled with three bottles of red. When I open the fridge, I see they’ve stocked it for me. Complete with everything on my list, including the almond milk I requested.

  Gathering my bags, I tug them into the master bedroom. It’s the biggest room in the villa, but that’s not saying much. Everything is color coordinated in mint green, white, and gray, a combination I wouldn’t have put together myself but is rather soothing. The oversized king bed takes up most of the space, flanked on either side by a nightstand. One dresser and a cute armchair and ottoman complete the look of the room.

  After I finish unpacking and change into something more comfortable, I grab my phone and dial Naomi’s number as I settle on the sofa. She picks up after the first ring, clearly irritated that I haven’t called sooner.

  She was sure I wouldn’t get on the plane, so she escorted me to the airport and waited outside security until I boarded, keeping me on the phone the entire time. I was supposed to call her when I landed, but I was escorted away before my phone even turned back on and I didn’t want to talk to her while there was a camera watching my every move.

  “Did you expect me to call you with a camera in my face?” I ask, reminding her of the conversation we had this morning on the way to the airport. She requested that I not mention her if there’s a camera present. With her job as a schoolteacher, she’d hate for someone to misconstrue the situation and compromise her position. I get it. They all think she’s sweet and caring and the nicest person on the planet, which she can be. She works with eight-year-olds. She has to be viewed that way.

  If they only knew what goes through her head sometimes . . .

  “Whatever. You made it. That’s all that matters. Now what?” she retorts, brushing my comment off. “What’s it like? Have you met anyone else yet?”

  After I give her the rundown of my arrival and being whisked away abruptly, I tell her about the cute little villa I’m staying in. She insists on pictures, which I promise her only after I read through my contract. It was made clear when I signed a confidentiality agreement that we were not allowed to post anything on social media about the show until after the finale had aired.

  I get it. They don’t want us to give anything away. I’m just not sure if that includes the living quarters or not. Sending her a picture of the bedroom isn’t going to ruin anything for anyone. Not in my opinion at least.

  After letting Naomi go, I take a few snapshots and pull out the paperwork I was given. It’s at least fifty pages of fine print I need to read through. On top of the stack is our schedule for this week. Under today, it lists the arrival time of every contestant, which villa we’ve been assigned, and the only scheduled event which is our first meeting tonight. There’s still a lot about the show I don’t know, so I have a feeling they’ll be filling us in then.

  Seeing that I wasn’t the first to arrive, I set the stack of papers aside, some light reading for later, and head to see if I can find Jace, the only other person who should be here right now. As I’m about to pull open the whitewashed door, someone knocks, startling me.

  My gut tells me to look through the peephole before opening it, but there isn’t one. Even though no one is allowed in the compound if they’re not part of the production team or a contestant, I still want to know who’s on the other side, so I pull back the sheer curtains and glance out the window.

  Tall, maybe early twenties like me. I can barely see his face from this angle. He has dark-brown hair that’s longer on top but shaved close on the sides. Five o’clock shadow that looks natural on him. He appears relaxed in his dark-wash jeans and gray T-shirt.

  His lack of an ID badge hanging around his neck tells me he doesn’t work for the studio, which can only mean one thing. Another contestant.

  When I open the door, I come face to face with stunning green eyes and a chiseled jawline. He’s at least five inches taller than me and one-hundred-percent sex appeal.

  This is the kind of man that can make a woman weak in her knees with one glance. A smile. A single compliment.

  “Jace,” he says, a huge panty-melting smile on his face as he thrusts his hand in my direction. When I don’t take it, he slowly lets it fall to his side and runs his other hand through his hair, brushing it back.

  “Presley,” I finally say, my name coming out stuttered. Pa-pa-res-lee.

  “It’s nice to meet you. Can I?” he asks, motioning behind me.

  He wants to come in. Is that allowed?

  “I don’t know. Did you read the paperwork they gave us? Are you allowed in here?”

  His smile widens, watching me as I mentally freak out about being alone with him. “It doesn’t say I can’t.” When I don’t invite him in, he motions for me to follow him, and without giving it a second thought, I do, falling in step with him as we walk past the villas and toward the main house.

  “Where are you from, Presley?” he asks, taking a sharp right at the last villa and walking up a set of stairs. As we reach the top, the strong smell of chlorine hits me.

  “St. Louis. What about you?”

  “Miami,” he notes as he opens the gate to the pool area for me, ushering me through.

  It’s beautiful. There are lounge chairs along both sides of the large oval-shaped pool. Two cabanas on the far end next to the hot tub that looks like it’s big enough to fit ten people in it, if not more. The water is crystal clear, and it makes me want to dip my toes to test how warm it is.

  “So why are you here?” he asks as I take a seat on the closest lounger, leaning back and closing my eyes, relishing the feeling of the mid-afternoon sun on my face.

  It’s quiet right now, but that’s about to change. The next person is going to arrive soon, and then the next, until all twelve of us are here. Once we’re assembled, things are going to get loud, I’m sure. I’ve seen enough of these types of shows to know there’s always a few crazy ones in every bunch.

  The instigator. The drama queen. The comedian.

  I’m in for a wild ride, but right now, the calm before the storm, I’m enjoying myself. Until I remember Jace asked me what brought me here.

  “My best friend talked me into it one night when I was drunk.” It’s the easiest, most honest answer I can give without bringing up Wren. He’s the last person I want to talk about with a stranger. Now or ever. “What about you?”

  “My girlfriend broke up with me about six months ago, and I signed up before I thought it through.”

  “Why didn’t you back out?”

  “I don’t know. I guess maybe I figured I could at least meet some cool people. Have a little fun.”

  His voice trails off, so I finish his thought for him. “And the money’s not a bad incentive either, is it?”

  “Nope. I could do a lot with the prize money.”

  “Big plans already?”

  “No, but I have ideas. A lot of them, and they’re all expensive.”

  I’m about to inquire more when laughter booms in the distance. Sitting up, I peer over the fence and watch as Claudia rushes a stocky, built redhead across the property. She doesn’t look amused, but he’s grinning like the Cheshire cat.

  “I’m guessing that’s Gage,” Jace notes as they disappear out of sight.

  “Where’s she taking him?”

  “They separated the guys and girls. Didn’t you look at your map? It’s like page three.”

  “Nope. Didn’t get that far.”

  Offering me his hand, I hesitate for a brief second before sliding my palm against his. As soon as I’m on my feet, I involuntarily sway toward him. His proximity has me feeling light-headed. Or maybe it’s his intoxicating scent. A sh
iver runs up my spine as I attempt to break the spell he has me under.

  Jace explains the living situation as he walks me around the property, showing me all the amenities this place has to offer. It’s like a luxurious resort only on a smaller scale. The main house is located in the southwest corner. The girls’ villas are located next to the main house, along the south edge of the property. On the west edge, is the bar and game room. Just north of the bar are the boys’ villas, and they run along the northern border.

  The pool is centrally located to everything. Across from the pool is an outdoor kitchen. Just south of the pool, hiding the girls’ villas from view, is a large garden with flowers, benches and a gazebo. North of the pool is the fitness center, which is located next to the stables. I can hear and smell the horses as we approach. Along the west side of the pool are basketball, tennis, and beach volleyball courts, along with a beautiful lawn area that leads us all the way back to the girls’ villas.

  The compound is huge and spread out, but it also feels all connected. You can walk in a square around the pool and see everything this place has to offer.

  “Everyone else is gonna be here soon,” Jace says as we approach my villa. “I’m going to go introduce myself to Gage. I guess I’ll see you later tonight.”

  “Thanks for showing me around,” I say as I push through the door, looking back over my shoulder at him. He’s watching me, intently, assessing everything my body has to offer. “It was nice to meet you, Jace.”

  “Likewise,” he replies, his eyes finally meeting mine.

  Well, fuck. I didn’t expect that. Didn’t expect to like even one of the guys here. I assumed they were all going to be like the idiots I watch on television every week. Drunk whores. Constantly trying to get in the pants of the girls. Making out with all of them because it makes for good TV. Somehow leading them on.