Shameless Read online

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Shameless

  ISBN # 978-1-78184-369-7

  ©Copyright Isabelle Drake 2013

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright June 2013

  Edited by Rebecca Douglas

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2013 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.

  This story contains 32 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 5 pages.

  Invitations

  SHAMELESS

  Isabelle Drake

  Book three in the Invitations series

  Pretending to be a tourist from England while at an exclusive penthouse party, Jenn steps into a trap set by a hot cop with cool green eyes.

  Jenn Davidsen knows the only way to get a guy is to go out and look for one. But what’s a woman to do when she has nowhere to go? Get creative, that’s what.

  When an invitation to an exclusive penthouse party comes across the fax machine at the boutique hotel where Jenn works, she takes it for herself even though the invitation is meant for a guest. Once there, she takes the advice of a friend—she pretends to be someone else. Her fake accent and made-up personality make her the centre of attention.

  Liam Wallace doesn’t like to make the same mistake twice. So when an actress he once worked with—a woman who’s been at the centre of his sizzling daydreams for months—shows up at a party, he puts a plan in motion. This time he isn’t going to stop until he gets Jenn right where he wants her—in his arms and in his bed.

  Dedication

  For Jenn, a girl who appreciates the art of having a good time.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Doritos: Dorito, PepsiCo, Inc

  Facebook: Facebook, Inc.

  Coke: The Coca-Cola Company

  Downton Abbey: Carnival Film and Television, Ltd.

  Secret Diary of a Call Girl: Tiger Aspect Productions

  Chapter One

  As a cop, Liam Wallace spent his day with other men and women who lived right in the grit of it all. So he knew how to handle himself. But every once in a while, he couldn’t avoid a social situation he knew he ought to—the kind of situation where he was likely to turn into an ass and start saying things he didn’t really mean and was going to regret later. Tonight was one of those nights. He could already feel some restless sarcasm starting to brew inside him. If he didn’t find a way to get out of the party his old roommate Davi had insisted was ‘going to be awesome’, it might turn out to be a rough night. Davi, a wild Brazilian, always loved a good party and assumed everyone else did too.

  But no good excuse for getting out of the party had come to him, so there he was at The Indigo, the ultra-trendy bar in the lobby of The Continental. The neon blue lighting and gleaming chrome furniture made the place look like an action movie set. People having a good time—laughing, talking, doing all the normal things he just didn’t feel up to yet.

  Behind him, a row of impossibly hot blondes were laughing too loudly, tossing their perfect hair and waving their manicured nails as they looked around the place to see who was paying attention to them. His mouth started to turn down but he stopped himself from frowning.

  Be nice. Don’t stand around scowling like an asshole.

  He moved his gaze away from the women and looked out into the hotel lobby. Now there was someone he could stare at and not scowl. The redhead behind the reception desk hadn’t been there when he’d passed through the lobby a while ago. He would’ve remembered that fair skin. It was probably dotted with freckles in all the right places, and that red hair—impossible to ignore. It hung down her back in a heavy wave of copper. Damn it would look good spread across a white pillow. She looked his way.

  Wait a minute. He did remember her. Jenn, the actress. He’d met with her a couple of times last spring when she’d needed to listen to someone with a London accent—she’d been preparing her own affected accent for a role in a play. While she’d been listening to him name streets, towns, famous cities, and ramble on about foods and football, he’d been wondering what she looked like under those plain sweaters she always wore. It didn’t help that she’d stared at his mouth the whole time he’d been talking. But she’d had a boyfriend who’d dropped her off and picked her up every time they had met. It’d been hard to even think about getting something going with him lurking about.

  A couple came up to the desk and he watched her check them in then pass over a set of key cards. Damn, she was hot. Sweet and sexy. And because they’d spent those hours together, he knew she was hard-working and determined too. A flicker of anticipation stirred inside him. The tiny flame was the first heat of interest he’d felt in a while. Weeks, probably. She looked up, scanning the area as though she was expecting someone. Liam went ahead and scowled. It wasn’t like she was going to notice his frown, since she was probably watching for that same lucky bastard. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep staring and imagining her kneeling between his legs, unzipping his pants.

  “You going to spend the whole night staring at women, my broken-hearted friend?” a familiar voice asked. “Or are you actually going to talk to some?”

  Liam smacked his friend Davi on the shoulder then yanked him into a rough hug.

  After they had exchanged hellos, Davi nodded to the row of blondes. “Let’s go check them out.”

  Liam took a swallow of his drink. “Might be better if I kept my mouth shut. I’m not in the best mood tonight and I don’t want to ruin your chances.”

  Davi pulled his leer away from the women. “We talked about this. I’m taking you to the animal shelter next week. We’ll pick out the neediest, loneliest, saddest-looking pup they have. You can take it home and spoil it so badly it will live as long as Paddie.”

  “Her name was Padame and she wasn’t spoilt.”

  Davi cocked one of his dark eyebrows. “We lived together, remember?”

  “All right,” Liam conceded. “She may have been a bit spoilt.”

  “We’ll find another sad thing for you to dedicate your life to. Until then, you have to live. Or at least pretend to be alive.”

  Liam shrugged, his gaze going back to the redhead behind the reception counter. If he was with her, he wouldn’t be pretending. While Liam was thinking about lifting the girl’s hair off her neck so he could run his mouth down her pale skin, Davi was offering advice about living life, whatever that really meant. Davi started going on and on about having fun and how great the party was going to be. Liam puzzled over whether Jenn’s bra unhooke
d in the front or the back. How long would it take to get his mouth on her nipples? Finally, when Davi started with his speculations about how long it would take to get laid that night, Liam pulled his greedy gaze away from Jenn. “Seriously, Davi, you might have a better time without me.”

  “I promised Eva Marie that I’d invite some cool people. But I don’t know any, so I’m bringing you instead.” Davi went on to say more about what a great friend Eva Marie was, and something about her starting an event planning and catering business, but Liam was staring at Jenn again and not really listening. The counter was too high for him to see if she was wearing a skirt or pants. A skirt would be perfect, then he could slide his hand up between her legs. He only remembered Davi was there when the guy started jabbing him sharply in the ribs.

  “Got to make a call,” he said, holding up his phone. “Be right back.”

  Davi left and Liam went back to staring at Jenn. Last spring, when he’d had the chance, he should’ve at least asked her how serious she was with the guy. But he’d been trying to be decent. And the way she kept staring at the door, almost willing someone to come through it—it was obvious she was waiting for someone. Some lucky asshole who was going to get the chance to see whether her bra unhooked in the front or the back.

  Davi returned. “Let’s do it,” he said, tipping his dark head towards the row of girls at the bar.

  The girls were pretty in a flashy, you’d-better-notice-me-or-else kind of way. Not his preference by a long shot. Looking at them would be all right, but being friendly was out of the question. “Okay, but like I said, I’m not talking.”

  “I don’t need you to talk, asshole. I have my Brazilian charm.”

  Liam laughed. “It’s only your accent, not your charm.”

  “Fuck you,” Davi replied, laughing before lowering his voice. “It’s more than my beautiful voice that makes the women want me. You just can’t stand it that they always like me more than they like you.”

  “You’re full of shit. They like me fine. I get just as many women at home, where I don’t have an accent. So, unlike you, I don’t have to depend on the sound of my voice. There is more to me than that.”

  “Right, right, of course. Women just run to you because you are a fucking stud.”

  Liam’s gaze zeroed in on the redhead behind the reception desk. The plain green sweater hugged her body and the tiny buttons running down the front were begging to be undone.

  “Yo”—Davi jabbed him in the ribs again—“I have a challenge for you. Something to take your mind off your sad thoughts.”

  “You’re making a bet with me? About girls?”

  “Not a bet. A challenge. We pretend you don’t speak English. You prove you can get a girl interested in you without using your accent. No talking, so no accent.”

  Leave it to Davi to turn the night into a competition. “Fuck off.”

  “So you’re in? Good. You said you didn’t want to talk anyway.” Davi shoved him in the direction of the bar.

  Liam smirked, but said nothing as they moved closer to the three blondes. Always ready to play off his so-called Latin charm, Davi went right up to the one in the centre and kissed her check. She accepted the kiss as though she expected random strangers to adore her, then tossed her hair back. Davi took control of the moment by introducing himself before making a big deal of telling the women Liam was from the Netherlands and only spoke Dutch.

  Dutch? Really? But Liam went along, nodding hello to each one. Minutes later, he found himself watching Jenn again. He turned his back and resolved not to look her way again.

  * * * *

  Jenn Davidsen stared at the entrance door of The Continental and continued putting all her energy into wishing someone famous would come in. She had her phone on the counter and was determined not to miss the next opportunity to snap a shot of somebody important. Ever since her friend Kitty Maar, aka Kelly M, had name-dropped the hotel in a post on her infamous sexploitation blog, Capitol Girl, the new boutique hotel was the ‘it’ place to stay in Washington, DC. Now Jenn, who worked at the desk, was determined to make sure The Continental stayed the hot place. As a struggling actress, she needed opportunities to get noticed. And as far as she was concerned, getting noticed behind a reception desk was as good as getting noticed anywhere.

  “Did you see anyone?”

  Emily, Jenn’s best friend, leaned on the counter, looking gorgeous in a black, spaghetti-strap dress. A delicate strand of pearls and a pretty pair of pearl and diamond earrings added to the traditional but sexy look.

  “No luck yet.” She held up her phone. “But I’m ready. And Kitty has already promised to post any good snaps I get.”

  Emily looked over the swarm in the lobby bar. Even from across the distance, it was easy to see the bar was packed with gorgeous women and hot guys. Excitement and an on-the-prowl vibe radiated from the crowd. “Nobody in there?” she asked, taking her time to study the faces.

  “I hadn’t thought about looking in there. I’ve been busy watching the door.” She waved her fingers up and down. “You look awesome, by the way. Where’s Daniel taking you, sexy girl?”

  Emily did a little shimmy. “We’re going to some election party his friend Thomas is hosting.”

  “In case you didn’t notice, the election is over.”

  “That’s why the party will actually be fun—all the stress and work is over. The night their candidate lost, nobody felt like partying, so now they have crates of leftover wine. We’re going to help them get rid of it.” A burst of laughter drifted over from the bar. Emily glanced at the crammed tables, then turned back to Jenn. “What’re you doing tonight after you get off? Maybe you should go hang out in there.”

  Jenn pointed to her laptop. “My guest post on the Kelly M blog.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “Okay, I guess. I don’t know. I think she has an ulterior motive, like she’s trying to get me to loosen up or something.”

  Emily gave her a silly wink. “Is it working?”

  “I don’t know.” But that wasn’t true—it was loosening her up. The problem was, there wasn’t anything she could do about feeling loose. She was at work and had absolutely nowhere to go at eleven when she got off. She didn’t have anyone to get loose with, either.

  “Let me have a look at what you have so far?” Even though she made the request a question, Emily snatched up the computer before waiting for Jenn to answer. “How to get out of a speeding ticket? That’s your title?”

  Jenn started to explain that the idea came from a fierce crush she’d had on a cop who’d helped her out with some voice work last spring, but Emily waved her away. “Shh. I’m reading.”

  ‘I’d always thought that the tickets you got for speeding were like bills. You know, if you don’t pay them right away, there is an extra fine attached, but nothing more than that. Turns out that isn’t the case. If you don’t pay the ticket, it isn’t just going to cost you more money. You can end up getting arrested. That’s what happened to me when my friend Carrie and I were driving through the middle of nowhere on the way back home from Myrtle Beach. I was brought down to the police station and told to sit on a yellow plastic chair. Carrie was sitting in one of those chairs too—waiting to bail me out.

  Carrie, who was ticking away on her phone because she’s always doing three things at once, was making a big deal out of the whole thing. “This little delay is really going to mess me up.” Shoving her tangled hair out of her face, she added in a whisper, “Can’t you think of anything that’ll get us out of here faster?”

  “Oh yeah, sure,” I hissed back with enough sarcasm to peel the hideous, pale green paint off the walls of the station. “I’ll just march over there, tell the cop to forget that there was a bench warrant for my arrest and insist he let me go.”

  Carrie, unaffected, whispered back, “Channel your inner bitch.”

  “Me? You wouldn’t even have to channel yours. She’s right there whenever you need her.”


  “I’m a businesswoman, not a bitch. There’s a difference. You’re the actress.” She nodded at Deputy Carlton, the fair-haired hottie who’d brought me in. He was several yards away, hunting and pecking his tanned fingers across a keyboard. “Go on over there and act. Make something up, impromptu like.”

  Marching over there and making a scene isn’t me. Not without a playbill anyway. I lifted my chin then turned so Carrie had a nice view of my back. While I was giving her the cold shoulder, my gaze meandered up Deputy Carlton’s long, uniformed legs, paused at the sturdy curve of his ass then inched up across his wide chest. He had to have a soft white undershirt on—did it have sleeves? Or was he wearing one of those ribbed, tank-style Ts?

  Either way was fine with me. As long as the muscles underneath were hard. Maybe Carrie had the right idea about me doing something after all. Maybe I should just scoot over and take a quick peek to see what was under that stiff uniform shirt. I could run my fingers across that badge and name tag, then plink my way down those buttons. In a matter of seconds I’d have his shirt off and be working on that standard issue belt. While I was staring, he looked up from the computer, his eyes flat until he realised I’d been eye-fucking him. He cocked an eyebrow, looked me up and down, made a point of staring at the short hem of my mini then turned back to the screen. I realised I’d been holding my breath. It came out in a sigh.

  “Yeah, forget being a bitch, that’s a better idea,” Carrie said, tipping sideways. “That’ll get us out of here.”

  I blinked, doing my best to look affronted. “You want me to whore myself?”

  Carrie made her own head-to-toe assessment of the man in uniform. “You know you want to.”