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  Share Me

  Copyright © 2019 Ker Dukey

  Copyright © 2019 K Webster

  Cover Design: Amy Queau

  Photo: Adobe Stock

  Editor: Emily A. Lawrence, Lawrence Editing

  Formatting: Champagne Book Design

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Books by Ker Dukey

  Books by K Webster

  Dedication

  Playlist

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Choke Me by Ker Dukey and K Webster

  Books by Ker Dukey and K Webster

  Acknowledgments from Ker Dukey

  Acknowledgements from K Webster

  About Ker Dukey

  About Author K Webster

  Empathy series:

  Empathy

  Desolate

  Vacant—Novella

  Deadly—Novella

  The Broken Series:

  The Broken

  The Broken Parts Of Us

  The Broken Tethers That Bind Us–Novella

  The Broken Forever—Novella

  The Men By Numbers Series:

  Ten

  Six

  Drawn to you series:

  Drawn to You

  Lines Drawn

  Standalone novels:

  My Soul Keeper

  Lost

  I See You

  The Beats In Rift

  Devil

  Co-written with D. Sidebottom:

  The Deception series

  FaCade

  Cadence

  Beneath Innocence—Novella

  The Lilith’s Army MC Series:

  Taking Avery

  Finding Rhiannon

  Coming Home TBA

  Co-written with K Webster

  The Pretty Little Dolls series:

  Pretty Stolen Dolls

  Pretty Lost Dolls

  Pretty New Doll

  Pretty Broken Dolls

  The V Games Series

  Vlad

  Ven

  Vas

  KKinky Reads Collection:

  Share Me

  Choke Me

  Joint Series:

  Four Fathers Series

  Blackstone by Jessica Hollyfield

  Kingston by Dani Rene

  Pearson by K Webster

  Wheeler by Ker Dukey

  Joint Series:

  Four Sons:

  Nixon by Ker Dukey

  Hayden by J.D Hollyfield

  Brock by Dani René

  Camden by K Webster

  The Elite Seven Series:

  Lust by Ker Dukey

  Pride by J.D. Hollyfield

  Wrath by Claire C. Riley

  Envy by MN Forgy

  Gluttony by K Webster

  Sloth by Giana Darling

  Greed by Ker Dukey and K Webster

  Psychological Romance Standalones:

  My Torin

  Whispers and the Roars

  Cold Cole Heart

  Blue Hill Blood

  Romantic Suspense Standalones:

  Dirty Ugly Toy

  El Malo

  Notice

  Sweet Jayne

  The Road Back to Us

  Surviving Harley

  Love and Law

  Moth to a Flame

  Erased

  Extremely Forbidden Romance Standalones:

  The Wild

  Hale

  Like Dragonflies

  Taboo Treats:

  Bad Bad Bad

  Coach Long

  Ex-Rated Attraction

  Mr. Blakely

  Easton

  Crybaby

  Lawn Boys

  Malfeasance

  Renner’s Rules

  The Glue

  Dane

  Enzo

  Red Hot Winter

  KKinky Reads Collection:

  Share Me

  Choke Me

  Contemporary Romance Standalones:

  The Day She Cried

  Untimely You

  Heath

  Sundays are for Hangovers

  A Merry Christmas with Judy

  Zeke’s Eden

  Schooled by a Senior

  Give Me Yesterday

  Sunshine and the Stalker

  Bidding for Keeps

  B-Sides and Rarities

  Paranormal Romance Standalones:

  Apartment 2B

  Running Free

  Mad Sea

  War & Peace Series:

  This is War, Baby (Book 1)

  This is Love, Baby (Book 2)

  This Isn’t Over, Baby (Book 3)

  This Isn’t You, Baby (Book 4)

  This is Me, Baby (Book 5)

  This Isn’t Fair, Baby (Book 6)

  This is the End, Baby (Book 7—a novella)

  Lost Planet Series:

  The Forgotten Commander (Book 1)

  The Vanished Specialist (Book 2)

  2 Lovers Series:

  Text 2 Lovers (Book 1)

  Hate 2 Lovers (Book 2)

  Thieves 2 Lovers (Book 3)

  Pretty Little Dolls Series:

  Pretty Stolen Dolls (Book 1)

  Pretty Lost Dolls (Book 2)

  Pretty New Doll (Book 3)

  Pretty Broken Dolls (Book 4)

  The V Games Series:

  Vlad (Book 1)

  Ven (Book 2)

  Vas (Book 3)

  Four Fathers Books:

  Pearson

  Four Sons Books:

  Camden

  Elite Seven Books:

  Gluttony

  Not Safe for Amazon Books:

  The Wild

  Hale

  Bad Bad Bad

  This is War, Baby (Book 1)

  Like Dragonflies

  The Breaking the Rules Series:

  Broken (Book 1)

  Wrong (Book 2)

  Scarred (Book 3)

  Mistake (Book 4)

  Crushed (Book 5 – a novella)

  The Vegas Aces Series:

  Rock Country (Book 1)

  Rock Heart (Book 2)

  Rock Bottom (Book 3)

  The Becomi
ng Her Series:

  Becoming Lady Thomas (Book 1)

  Becoming Countess Dumont (Book 2)

  Becoming Mrs. Benedict (Book 3)

  Alpha & Omega Duet:

  Alpha & Omega (Book 1)

  Omega & Love (Book 2)

  For those of you who are a sucker for the romantic stuff…

  like butt sex and ass spanking.

  Listen on Spotify here.

  “Back to You” by Louis Tomlinson and Bebe Rexha

  “I Don’t Wanna Live Forever” by Zayn

  “Pillowtalk” by Zayn

  “Loud(y)” by Lewis Del Mar

  “The Death of Me” by Meg Myers

  “War of Hearts” by Ruelle

  “Love is Mystical” by Cold War Kids

  “White Noise” by Badflower

  “Little One” by Highly Suspect

  “Where is My Mind?” by Pixies

  “Blossom” by Candlebox

  “#1 Crush” by Garbage

  “So Real” by Jeff Buckley

  “Hold Me Down” by Halsey

  “Like Lovers Do” by Hey Violet

  “Movement” by Hozier

  “R U Mine?” by Arctic Monkeys

  “Sex on Fire” by Kings of Leon

  “Like Real People Do” by Hozier

  “Wild Horses” by Bishop Briggs

  “Can I Exist” by MISSIO

  “Tempt My Trouble” by Bishop Briggs

  “I Feel Love” by Donna Summer

  “Sweet Young Thing Ain’t Sweeet No More” by Mudhoney

  Seventeen Years Old…

  Heavy, wet tears drop to my cheeks, causing me to sniffle to contain the sorrow pouring out of me.

  My heart feels too heavy, cracking inside my chest like a glass paperweight being dropped into the rocks of the ocean. People around me watch me with sympathy and pity. I hate it. They don’t know me—no one does. Mom was the only person who really knew me, truly, and now she’s gone. I’m really alone.

  Dad’s hand grips mine tight as if to remind me that’s not true…only it is. He mumbles down at me to wipe my tears, stuffing a tissue in my face with his free hand. He loves me, but he loves his career more, and I’ve always known my place in the world he created for himself. Mom knew her place too, and she performed her role like she was created to be a politician’s wife. Grown in a field and picked as the ripest wife. Perfect childbearing hips, pretty face, refined grooming, well-taught manners and views on world topics, but not too much to be confused with her thinking her opinions matter.

  She was there as a prop to my dad, and I was an extension of that prop. Americans loved nothing more than a family man with home values.

  When the crowd finally parts, Dad begins to tug me away from the hole in the ground they lowered my mother’s casket into. The urge to pull free and throw myself down there with her is so strong, Dad has to tighten his hold on me like I’m a petulant child. His eyes scorn me, frown lines tugging down his brow. Will I ever be allowed to grow up?

  Set myself free, give myself some room to just breathe and accept I’m alone.

  Swallowing my grief, I dig deep for courage and allow Dad to drag me away.

  His crisp blue suit stands out in contrast against everyone else wearing black. Mom always loved him in blue. She bought him that suit. A rock has formed in my throat, restricting me from speaking when a woman joins us and asks me a question no one should have to answer minutes after burying her mother.

  “How are you coping with the passing of your mother?”

  “Not now,” my father barks toward her. Flashes of camera lights spark in my face, stunning me and causing me to almost stumble backward in the silly heels my dad’s PR team insisted I wore. Who knew I needed to be dressed a certain way to appeal to the public at my own mother’s funeral. But Marjorie—Dad’s own personal public relations advisor—insists I must sparkle, even in his shadow.

  Before I actually fall to the ground, a pair of strong arms come around my waist to steady me, making a little gasp whisper through my parted lips. Before I have time to gain back my equilibrium a wall of muscle surrounds us. Four men shielding us from the glare of the lens. Their backs protecting me from the overzealous media trying to impose on such a delicate time in my life.

  I’m ushered by the man behind me toward a black limo parked on the grass verge. His arm grips me against his firm, built body, his jacket coming around me to hide my face as the other three men in front of us move until we reach the car and I’m deposited inside. My chest is tight and my breathing is ragged from the ordeal. Before I have time to compose myself, all four men accompany me within the car, causing a trickle of fear to engulf me when one sidles up next to me. Scanning them one by one, no recognition sparks and I’m about to flee when the door re-opens and my dad gets in with us. Exhaling the breath I’d been holding, I fidget a little in my seat, knowing all eyes are trained on me.

  My gaze travels around the array of bodies, all eyes piercing and penetrating something inside of me I can’t grasp a hold of or explain. Strong jaws, defined features, and muscles that strain their suits. They look like something from an action movie.

  “Clove, this is my new security team. Integral Defense Security. They’ll be looking after us from now on,” my dad announces before typing something into his cell phone.

  Taking them all in, my mouth opens and closes, causing the one sitting in front of us to smirk.

  “Clove, huh? Like a four-leaf clover?” He smiles, his hazel eyes curious and slightly amused. I frown in response. “Ford Cross,” he says before pulling open his jacket to reveal a gun and three knives carefully tucked away. “Executive Weapons Specialist. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you too,” I mutter, leaning back in my seat some.

  “It’s okay,” the one next to me informs me, his shoulder nudging into mine like we’re old friends. His cologne surrounds me, filling the air with an intoxicating scent of citrus and coconut water. My eyes lift to meet his. Bright green, enchanting eyes. Golden skin to match his golden-brown hair. He practically glows, like a handsome prince from one of my fantasy novels. “The name’s Leo. Leo King. I’m IDS’s Open Source Intelligence Agent. In a nutshell, I find out anything and everything about everyone. You’re safe now and we will always be here to protect you from them,” he says, nodding toward the throngs of people outside the limo, “and anyone else.”

  Both men seem genuine, kind, and fierce. My nerves settle a bit until someone bangs on the window. Ford already has his hand inside his jacket and out with his gun drawn before I can even turn my head toward the sound.

  “Jack,” Marjorie hollers, tapping the glass again. “They aren’t going to let you leave without some sort of statement.”

  Dad pats my knee and kisses my cheek before giving Marjorie a nod that has her stepping away from the door. “Take her back to the house for the wake. I’m going to deal with the press,” my dad notifies the men and then opens the car door. He leaves me inside with these four strangers who just concealed my sorrow from the world to view.

  “Lucky little Clove,” Ford says with a smirk as he tucks his gun away, “you can trust us. We’re here to keep you safe.”

  Lucky?

  “Safe from what?” I manage to croak, a rogue tear slipping from my eye.

  The man who caught me outside and guided me into the car reaches forward and with a slow and precise movement swipes the tear with the pad of his thumb from my cheek. His eyes are a blazing blue that seems to penetrate me to my core. I can tell he’s the oldest in the group by the way he seems to drip with authority that makes me feel safe. My eyes linger on a rogue strand of inky-black hair that hangs over his dark brow. It makes me want to reach over and push it away so I have an unobstructed view of his gorgeous eyes.

  “From the wolves trying to take a bite,” he answers with a smile, his hand lingering on my skin a second longer than necessary. It’s strange the instant calm saturating my body with them all watchin
g me. “I’m Sebastian Constantine. I started IDS four years ago and brought in my most trusted ex-military brothers. Every single one of these guys, I trust with my life. And you can too, Miss Sterling.”

  “Clo is fine,” I murmur.

  Sebastian grins and then nicks his head toward the dark-haired brooding one on the other side of him. “You can trust us, Clo. Even this wise guy.”

  Ford snorts. “Zac? He’s shady. You gotta watch him.”

  Zac, the man in question, turns his dark-brown eyes my way. His jaw clenches as though he’s angry, which causes my pulse to quicken. Then, he winks at me. No smile or anything else, just a wink. It surprisingly calms me.

  “Zac Stone,” he grunts out. “Electronic Security Agent.”

  Sebastian leans forward again, capturing me with his electric blue eyes. “We are a team. Your team. Keeping people safe is our specialty. We won’t let you down, Clo.”

  For the first time in a long time, fear ebbs inside me like a receding tide.

  Not fear of being in danger, but the fear of being alone.

  I sigh and relax back into the comfort of my seat, my eyes closing and exhaustion coming over me. For the first time in forever, I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.

  They are here to save me from the big bad world.

  I have my own four saviors.

  And I need them, for future days like this.

  I am not alone.

  They are mine.

  Six years later…

  Image after image flits across my screen from William’s Facebook page as I scroll through, stalking his profile. I don’t even remember these photos of us being taken. It’s like he has a version of our relationship in his mind that differs so much from reality it’s worrying.

  It’s almost as if he’s designing a picture-perfect illusion just for the outside world, which doesn’t surprise me. I lived that way my whole life. It’s something I’ve come to expect from the people in my life.

  William, like my father, is in politics. Image is everything to them. Damn, him being like Dad was the appeal in the first place. Not in a creepy way, just in a He’s what I know kind of way. What I’ve always been taught is normal. What was expected of me.