Callie
What’s a girl to do when she meets a man who claims the heart that she’s already given to someone else? My boyfriend is everything I’ve ever wanted, he’s perfect, but when I met Joe ... I can’t even describe the intensity of my attraction to him. I’d never experienced anything like it before. Since then, it’s become something so much deeper and I’m finding it impossible to ignore what I feel for him. I know I’m already with the man I should be with, yet I want Joe. I can’t seem to get my head and my heart to agree on this. I’m not about to cheat and I won’t just drop the man I love. But what do I do about Joe?
Joe
Tattoos, bikes and women – that’s been my life for the last two years and it suited me just fine. Until the day I swerved to avoid a raggedy old VW Bug heading my way, hit the sidewalk, and ended up sprawled on my back. I came around to a pounding headache and the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen. Don’t know if it was the effect she had on me, or the accident, but I somehow managed to let her go without exchanging information, more importantly numbers. Maybe it would’ve been better if things had stayed that way. Maybe then I wouldn’t be caught up in this dilemma. I should do what most guys would do and pursue her, regardless of her being in a relationship. Trust me, it’s tempting. The problem is, I’ve been on the receiving end of a situation similar to this, so I know the hurt I could cause and I don’t think I can do that. But I want Callie. I want her bad.
When Callie and Joe met, neither were prepared for the sequence of events that would follow, or the impact of the choices they would go on to make.
If only is book one in the Captured series. Adult Contemporary Romance. This series is not intended for those below 18 years old due to graphic sexual content and use of language.

Callie

I twist my upper body around and watch him pull out some white latex gloves. Oh, shit. For some reason, it only just hits me.

He is going to see me topless.

Abruptly, I turn to the front and stare at Su, wide-eyed. Nick is the only man who has ever seen my tits. Ryan felt them, but he never saw them, so that doesn’t count. And he was my boyfriend at the time. Maybe the nerves of getting the piercings done stopped the recognition of this factor when I first learned this guy was doing them, but right now, with it so close to happening, that realization has my gut twisting.

I point to my breasts and mouth the words I just thought to Su. She winks at me and sort of grins to ease me, but it’s impossible for me to smile back. I need to distract myself. “I don’t know your name. You told me your brother’s, but not yours,” I say, looking, but not looking at the display of photos along the white wall in front of me. I can’t recall what I was told when I booked, my brain won’t work right. The silence in here feels thick, and that’s not helping matters.

“My name is Joe,” he says as he sits down on a chair to the right of me.

Joe. Now I remember. I always wondered what his name was after our almost collision. Joe. I like it.

He wheels himself closer, stopping in front of me. The height of the table puts me above him, so I have to lower my gaze if I want to make eye contact with him. That’s the last thing I want to do. This really wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t hot. Why couldn’t I get the older guy who booked me in? Or Adam? He’s cute, too, but I could deal with him.

“Okay. So you want a tattoo as well,” he states, sitting upright with his lightly-fisted hands resting on his thighs, the gloves clutched within his right hand. I wish I could be as relaxed as he is.

I nod, looking level with his perfectly sculpted cheekbones. “Yeah.”

“Do you have in mind what you want, or would you like to see some designs?” I don’t know how, but he’s able to stare me straight in the eyes. Su was right about him being nervous before, but he’s definitely, absolutely not now. Maybe he was a little embarrassed about the almost collision thing.

With effort, I return his gaze as best as I can. Oh, God. My heart starts to gallop, threatening to burst out of my chest.

Those rich coffee beans have been imprinted on my memory since I first saw them. Sitting this near to reality is almost debilitating. There’s a deep tenderness in his stare that warms me, but the intensity of his focus pushes it up to a searing heat. It’s overwhelming, it makes me want to look away, but … I can’t. The brown is so rich with no intrusion of other tones and that only enhances the impact.

I thought my memory of his face was an exaggeration, the exceptional features and planes combining masculinity and beauty, but it’s true and very real. The tone of his skin is closer to olive than fair and appears incredibly smooth. I have an urge to slowly run the tips of my fingers along the lines and contours of his features, medium-thick eyebrows; narrow nose; high, defined cheekbones; softly-chiseled jaw, and then make a sculpture of his head, made to the exact likeness, but I wouldn’t go there, even with my skill, which, bias or not, I credit to be at a high standard. Thinking of this man as hot is easy to conclude, but it’s understated.

Joe is a powerful combination of man, beauty and sex.

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Brooklyn
I knew from the start that I should stay away from Dane, and I would have – if he’d stayed away from me. Astoundingly sexy with a consuming presence of unspoken command, he enthralls me to the point of almost being incapable of rational thoughts, almost being incapable of resisting him. My hands want to explore him. My tongue wants to taste him. My body begs to experience him. I crave him. Now he’s starting to intrude on a level that’s harder to fight. I know what he wants from me. I also know that Dane is not the type of man you expect to keep.
Dane
Things are never straightforward with women like Brooklyn. She’s not the kind whose bed you can slip out of and walk away from without ‘special connections’ or ‘emotions’ expected or offered. She’s the type of woman I prefer to keep my distance from, but like an undersexed, hormonal idiot, I still pursued her. I swear getting turned on by her is like getting turned on for the first time in my life. Now I have her in my grasp, but I know where this will lead. And I’m never the one that gets hurt in situations like this.
A woman who has barely put her broken-self back together and a man who turned his back on love a long time ago. When Dane and Brooklyn first met it appeared to be a simple case of lust between two opposites, but it was the beginning of an intense, emotional journey that would bring forth the pain they both attempted to leave in their pasts, and an encapsulation of feelings neither welcomed but were powerless to stop. Sometimes in life there is no choice but to take a risk.
*Release takes place in the months leading up to the end of If Only (book one in the Captured series), and includes major spoilers from Joe and Callie’s story.
*This book contains graphic sexual content.

Brooklyn

As I pass the rear of the Volvo, one space away from my car, a smooth voice stops me in my tracks.

“Brooklyn,” is all he said.

He wasn’t calling me. He was simply saying my name, low and curious. Stupidly sexy, too, but let’s not get caught up in that detail.

I know who that voice belongs to. I recognize it from last night.

Correcting my stunned expression, I turn around. Everything sort of ... falls out of focus, becomes non-existent. When I stop, barely two feet away, I realize I’ve walked over to him. We’re standing at the boot of my car.

Dane’s hazel eyes are lethally enticing. I can’t do anything but look into the golden brown of his irises, touched with flashes of varying shades of green. I don’t know what to say to him, and he isn’t speaking, he’s just standing there looking at me. I’d like to shrink and disappear.

“I’ve been warned not to talk to you,” I say just to give me something to say. I instantly feel guilty for being such a blabber mouth.

“Kayla told you that.”

Smoothest, sexiest voice I’ve ever heard, and so, so sure. He doesn’t seem to mind what I said. I owe my friend a big apology.

“Apparently, I’m too nice for you. Too nice a girl, that is. Not too good looking for you. Not your usual type.” Now I’m talking shit. My cheeks feel warm, too. Please, don’t let me be blushing.

Dane’s expression is unreadable, but he answers. “That might be true.”

He pauses for one long, powerful moment.

There’s something commanding about him. This is definitely a man who gets exactly what he wants, when he wants, without having to make much effort for it.

“Maybe you are too nice for me, but I’d really like you to be the one who decides that for yourself. You’ve been given a heads up. That gives you an advantage, right?”

Oh, he’s good. What do I say to that? I don’t know. I’m taken aback by his honesty and tempted at the same time.

Tempted by a man I have been firmly warned to stay away from.

Find your brain, Brooklyn, and say “Thanks, but no thanks.”

I still can’t speak.

His lips start to turn up at the corners, but his gaze remains intense.

I still don’t know what to say. It’s been about thirty seconds. Forty, maybe. Suddenly, I burst into laughter and slap my hand over my mouth to shut myself up. Typically in awkward situations, or at times when it’s most inappropriate, I laugh. I hate it, but I can’t help it.

“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to pull back my outburst. “It’s not you, it’s me. I mean, I’m not laughing at you. I really don’t know what to say to you.”

He’s still smiling, no less focused about his stare. “It’s not every day a woman laughs in my face, but I like your laugh.”

I straighten up and curl my arms tighter around myself, still wrapped in my nice warm cardigan, which also feels like a protective barrier. Though I still want to giggle at my ridiculous self, I’m wondering if his complement is genuine or part of the charming process. My friends describe my laugh as loud and dirty, and I’ve never been complemented on it.

“Where do you live?” he asks.

“Where do I live?” I ask back, unable to stop my eyebrows reaching for my hairline. That’s a bit forward, did I hear him correctly?

“Yes.” He looks me straight in the eyes. This guy is unbelievable, he’s serious.

I swallow hard with my now tight throat. “Um, the corner of Sutter and ...” Am I really giving up this information? “Franklyn.”

“That’s good. Do you know the Purple Cafe, on Bush Street?”

I nod. I haven’t been in there, but I’ve passed it a couple of times. Maybe I should’ve said no.

“Meet me there for breakfast tomorrow morning. I start work around nine, let’s be there for seven, outside. Think of it as your chance to decide for yourself.”

I’m speechless, again.

Dane turns around and walks away. “See you tomorrow, Brooklyn.”

Standing astonished, all I can do is watch his departure. In motion, he’s even more fascinating. He strides away with a feline grace, that air of command remaining.

I feel a weird temptation to follow him.

What the fuck just happened?

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Louise J has always been a daydreamer, but never considered writing a novel until days before typing the first words to If Only. Joe and Callie (and Gerard) appeared in a dream and her mind has never been her own since then, and she’s never alone. When she’s not writing she spends a lot of time missing out on huge chunks of conversation, movies, and TV shows thanks to many wonderful, but highly invasive characters bouncing around in her head, showing her their stories. In the name of research, those fabulous characters have led her to parts of the world she never would have dreamed of, and, as a result, has gained some of the most amazing memories. The rest of the time Louise J is trying to be a good wife to the greatest husband she could ever have asked for.