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He tasted like beer, and the odd mixed scents of alcohol, leather, and whatever aftershave he’d used were causing some kind of sensory overload. His body was firm under my fingertips, and somehow, I couldn’t seem to get him close enough.
Whatever he was giving me, it still wasn’t enough.
He gently pulled away from me after a kiss I knew I would never forget. “Sorry,” he said, huskily. “I’ve wanted to do that all night.”
When all I could do was let out a tiny and embarrassing squeak, he chuckled softly. “I think I’d better get you home.”
“Yeah,” I croaked, then swallowed to moisten my dry throat. “I think so too.”
About Kyra Lennon
Kyra Lennon is a British romance author who has published several books in the contemporary romance genre. She began her writing career in 2012 and has published several books, including "If I Let You Go," and the Chaos and Consent duet.
Lennon's writing is known for its relatable characters, emotional depth, and compelling storylines. Her books often explore themes of love, loss, and self-discovery, and are generally well-received by readers for their heartwarming and engaging nature.
In addition to her writing, Lennon is also an avid reader and blogger, and has been involved in the online book community for several years. She is active on social media and maintains an active presence on platforms like Twitter and Facebook, where she interacts with her readers and fellow authors.
If you would like to find out if this really does remain “One Night Only”, please keep an eye on my Facebook page here: https://www.facebook.com/kyralennonwrites or sign up for my mailing list here: https://www.subscribepage.com/j5k0c2
If you want to find out about my current books, please see my website: https://kyralennon.com/books
Disconnect
M. F. MOODY
Foreword
Although this book was originally released in 2021, it was set in a pre-Covid world. I know things have changed since then, but as most of this book had been written prior to the outbreak, it would have been too much to alter it to fit in today’s post-pandemic world. Please be aware of this when reading.
Warning: This book may contain particular triggers for certain people. It contains scenes of sexual abuse and violence, violence and abuse against animals, and stalking. It also contains swearing and scenes of a sexual nature.
In particular, Chapters 11 and 13 deal with domestic violence of a physical nature, and Chapter 13 contains graphic depictions of sexual abuse and violence.
Chapter 20 depicts violence and abuse against an animal.
If you find any of these unsettling or they are triggers, this book may not be for you.
This book is written in Australian English. This means that there will be additional letters in words (i.e. colour instead of color), words will end in ‘-ised’ instead of ‘-ized’, and ‘-tre’ instead of ‘-ter’. The usage of abbreviations will also be commonplace, as will Australian colloquialisms/slang.
To Blake, Drew, Ty, and Tess – if you’re reading this book, and you aren’t 18 yet, PUT IT DOWN!!! No reading until you’re 18, and even then, only if your mother says you can! She’s read this book, she knows what’s in it, and she knows just how depraved I am, so NO!!! NO BOOK FOR YOU!!!
To my Snotface, my Duncan – your mother loves you so very much, but writing helps me keep what little sanity you have left me with. PLEASE, for the love of all that is (un)holy, stop interrupting me to tell me about Minecraft!
To my extended family – be warned, you read this at your own risk. I don’t mind, I’d love the support, but you will never look at me the same again if you do. That’s on you. Don’t tell me at the next reunion that my mind is in the gutter, because it’s well below there. I aspire to those giddy heights! You’ve been warned.
To the other survivors – you are strong. Thank you for showing me how to be strong too.
And to C.M. Owens, aka Kristy Cunning and S.T. Abby, whose series “All The Pretty Monsters” I referenced in this book. Vale sweet lady, your brilliance, passion, and imagination shall be greatly missed.
Chapter One
With a gasp, Allee woke. Her heart raced in her chest, and a fine layer of sweat coated her skin. She shivered, goosebumps spreading over her as she recalled her nightmare. She could still hear the echoes of her pathetic pleading. Even now, he still had power over her.
Allee untangled herself from her bedclothes, which had coiled themselves around her body, constricting her movements and feeding the terror of her dream. Once free, she stumbled to the door, needing to escape her bedroom. It was no longer a sanctuary but a prison, trapping her in bad memories. She staggered down the hallway, past darkened doorways of other rooms. The cold kitchen tiles against her feet settled her anxiety, and her breathing slowed. Allee opened the refrigerator door, the light chasing away the remnants of the shadows of her dreams. Sucking in a deep, chilling breath, she reached in and grabbed a bottle of milk from the door.
“What I need,” she told herself, “is a good, stiff drink. However, hot chocolate will just have to do.” She was answered by a purring meow of her cat, a fluffy, affectionate tortoiseshell.
Allee leaned down, scooping up the ball of fur, hugging her close as another fine tremor played through her body. Piddle, sensing her owner’s deviation from the milk, protested. Allee returned Piddle to the kitchen floor with a sigh and flicked on a light before opening the milk bottle and pouring some into her food dish. The cat plunged nose-first into her rare treat, beads of milk studding her whiskers. Allee laughed, “Well, at least you’re easy to please!” before turning and pouring milk into a mug.
