Chained To The Past.
On the brink of going pro in MMA, Tyler Graves has defied his past—a past where going to jail
for beating the hell out of his foster father took him away from the girl he loved and swore to
protect, leaving her in the house of the man who abused them both.
Chained To Regret.
No matter how much time has passed, Danielle Debasco weighs on Ty’s mind and conscience. He
was supposed to save her, instead he abandoned her.
Chained To Love.
To free Danny from the abusive man who still haunts her, Ty’s faced with sacrificing his future by
finishing what he started four years ago—taking vengeance. But, this time will be different. This
time he won’t stop until the horrors of their past are sealed not just in blood, but in death.
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ebook/dp/B00MSXOA80
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Kelli Maine is the erotic romance author of USA Today Bestseller and #1 Nook book, Taken, and
the Give & Take series, along with the Dolls & Doms novellas and Chains. She lives in Northeast
Ohio with her husband and kids. When she's not writing, Kelli enjoys watching reality T.V.,
getting lost in random Wikipedia pages and searching online ads for vintage muscle cars.
Favorite Author: Diana Gabaldon
Favorite Food: Japanese
Favorite Superhero: Spiderman
Favorite Place I've Been: Yucatan Peninsula
Writing Must Haves: Coffee and chocolate
Plotter or Pantser: Proud Pantser
Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/kellimainebooks
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/kellimaine/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KelliMaine
Website: www.kellimainebooks.com
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/0v8A5
EXCERPT
“Did you ever try to find your mom?” Danny asked me. She’d insisted on coming downstairs for
lunch the next day.
“Sip slow,” I told her, handing her a cup of chicken broth. “No. I never tried to find her.”
“Do you ever think about it?” she asked, taking a couple crackers out of the box I set on the table.
“No. She took off on me. I don’t want to force my way into someone’s life who doesn’t want me
there.”
She made an, “Mmm,” sound, nodding and staring into her mug. “What about you?” I asked.
“Have you talked to your mom?”
Danny was taken away. Her mom wanted her, but she couldn’t take care of her. When we were
with Striker, she’d make wishes on stars and dandelion fuzz and birthday candles for her mom to
take her back home, but her mom never got her shit together.
“A couple years ago,” Danny said, “Striker told me she overdosed.”
I put down the glass of water I’d poured her a bit too hard, with a thunk that echoed. “She’s
dead?”
“That’s what he said.”
I watched her take a sip of her broth, hesitant to say what I was thinking. But it was Danny, and
she’d have already thought it, too. “Was he lying?”
She shook her head. “I looked it up online at the library. Found her obituary. It didn’t mention a
daughter.”
I sank into the chair beside her and took her hand. “You know what sucked the worst about my
mom leaving me? She didn’t want to know me anymore. I mean, it was fucking shitty of her to
abandon her kid, but after that, when I was alone at night in the dark I thought about how she
didn’t know I liked to draw.”
“You lived to draw,” Danny said, squeezing my hand.
“Yeah, and she had no idea. She didn’t know that when she left the lady next door made me sleep
on an old dog bed infested with fleas and sprayed me off with the hose instead of letting me
shower.”
“How can people be so cruel? You were a little kid.”
“We were both little kids, Dan. People are fucking animals. They take care of their own and screw
everyone else.”
“Not everybody,” she said.
I thought about Mike. “No, I guess not everybody. Most people.”
“I thought my mom wanted me,” she said. “I thought she’d try to get me back. When they took me
away, she cried and promised she’d do everything she had to so we’d be together again.” She
looked up at me with watery blue eyes. “She lied. She never tried to get me back.”
The pained expression on her face gripped me inside and twisted. I hated her mom. I hated
Striker. I hated my own mom. How could they all do this to us? Then it hit me. I promised to go
back for her, and I never did. Just like her mom.
I leaned forward, pressing her hand against my chest and my lips to her temple. “I want you,
Danielle. I want you in my life. I always have. I was selfish and caught up in setting things right
first, but I never forgot about you.”
She turned to me and stroked my cheek. Her eyes roamed my face, her sorrow of past memories
gone. She watched her fingertips grazed my lips and lifted her eyes to mine, asking permission.
My heart drummed. I took her hand away and cupped her face, bringing her close enough to feel
her breath on my cheek. I ran the tip of my nose up and down the ridge of hers before tilting her
head and securing my lips against hers.
It was like breathing in life. Like I’d only been keeping myself alive with air in my lungs, food and
water, but this—Danny in my arms with our lips seeking and discovering—this was really being
alive.
The tip of her tongue edged along my bottom lip and started a fire in my gut. I dropped my hands
from her face and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her onto my lap. Our tongues darted in
and out, shy and bold at the same time, learning the feel of each other. How could Danny—my
Danny—still have part of her for me to discover?
The thought sent my mind south of her navel. Danny wasn’t the girl she used to be. If I were
honest, I’d admit to myself that I’d noticed it when we were teenagers. She’d gotten hips and
breasts and a firm, round ass. By the time she was fourteen, it was hard to look at her like she
was the same little girl anymore. I never thought of her as a sister. Maybe if we’d lived in a house
that was like an actual family instead of an abusive nightmare.
Sitting here with her ass pressed against my crotch and her lips and tongue slick and hot against
mine, I was so fucking happy I’d never thought of her as my sister, or I’d be in for some serious
guilt. There was no way I was turning back from being this close to her.
I wanted more.
I wanted closer.
I wanted inside her.
She parted her lips from mine, panting, and looked at me with hazy eyes. The last thing I wanted
was to pressure her, scare her. “Should we stop?” I asked, hearing the deep rasp of lust in my
voice.
She gazed into my eyes for a moment before shaking her head and falling back into our kiss.
I stood, picking her up in my arms, and carried her upstairs. In the bedroom, I laid her down on
the bed and straddled her, sitting on my knees with my hands on either side of her head. “I need
you to tell me if you don’t want to do this,” I said. “Or if you want me to stop.”
She gave me a sinful smile and looked up at me with those lusty, hooded eyes. “I’ve wanted this
for as long as I knew what sex was, Tyler.” She ran her hands up my thighs. “I wanted this to take
away what I didn’t want. To replace it with you. Someone who cared. Someone safe.”
“Did you ever try to find your mom?” Danny asked me. She’d insisted on coming downstairs for
lunch the next day.
“Sip slow,” I told her, handing her a cup of chicken broth. “No. I never tried to find her.”
“Do you ever think about it?” she asked, taking a couple crackers out of the box I set on the table.
“No. She took off on me. I don’t want to force my way into someone’s life who doesn’t want me
there.”
She made an, “Mmm,” sound, nodding and staring into her mug. “What about you?” I asked.
“Have you talked to your mom?”
Danny was taken away. Her mom wanted her, but she couldn’t take care of her. When we were
with Striker, she’d make wishes on stars and dandelion fuzz and birthday candles for her mom to
take her back home, but her mom never got her shit together.
“A couple years ago,” Danny said, “Striker told me she overdosed.”
I put down the glass of water I’d poured her a bit too hard, with a thunk that echoed. “She’s
dead?”
“That’s what he said.”
I watched her take a sip of her broth, hesitant to say what I was thinking. But it was Danny, and
she’d have already thought it, too. “Was he lying?”
She shook her head. “I looked it up online at the library. Found her obituary. It didn’t mention a
daughter.”
I sank into the chair beside her and took her hand. “You know what sucked the worst about my
mom leaving me? She didn’t want to know me anymore. I mean, it was fucking shitty of her to
abandon her kid, but after that, when I was alone at night in the dark I thought about how she
didn’t know I liked to draw.”
“You lived to draw,” Danny said, squeezing my hand.
“Yeah, and she had no idea. She didn’t know that when she left the lady next door made me sleep
on an old dog bed infested with fleas and sprayed me off with the hose instead of letting me
shower.”
“How can people be so cruel? You were a little kid.”
“We were both little kids, Dan. People are fucking animals. They take care of their own and screw
everyone else.”
“Not everybody,” she said.
I thought about Mike. “No, I guess not everybody. Most people.”
“I thought my mom wanted me,” she said. “I thought she’d try to get me back. When they took me
away, she cried and promised she’d do everything she had to so we’d be together again.” She
looked up at me with watery blue eyes. “She lied. She never tried to get me back.”
The pained expression on her face gripped me inside and twisted. I hated her mom. I hated
Striker. I hated my own mom. How could they all do this to us? Then it hit me. I promised to go
back for her, and I never did. Just like her mom.
I leaned forward, pressing her hand against my chest and my lips to her temple. “I want you,
Danielle. I want you in my life. I always have. I was selfish and caught up in setting things right
first, but I never forgot about you.”
She turned to me and stroked my cheek. Her eyes roamed my face, her sorrow of past memories
gone. She watched her fingertips grazed my lips and lifted her eyes to mine, asking permission.
My heart drummed. I took her hand away and cupped her face, bringing her close enough to feel
her breath on my cheek. I ran the tip of my nose up and down the ridge of hers before tilting her
head and securing my lips against hers.
It was like breathing in life. Like I’d only been keeping myself alive with air in my lungs, food and
water, but this—Danny in my arms with our lips seeking and discovering—this was really being
alive.
The tip of her tongue edged along my bottom lip and started a fire in my gut. I dropped my hands
from her face and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her onto my lap. Our tongues darted in
and out, shy and bold at the same time, learning the feel of each other. How could Danny—my
Danny—still have part of her for me to discover?
The thought sent my mind south of her navel. Danny wasn’t the girl she used to be. If I were
honest, I’d admit to myself that I’d noticed it when we were teenagers. She’d gotten hips and
breasts and a firm, round ass. By the time she was fourteen, it was hard to look at her like she
was the same little girl anymore. I never thought of her as a sister. Maybe if we’d lived in a house
that was like an actual family instead of an abusive nightmare.
Sitting here with her ass pressed against my crotch and her lips and tongue slick and hot against
mine, I was so fucking happy I’d never thought of her as my sister, or I’d be in for some serious
guilt. There was no way I was turning back from being this close to her.
I wanted more.
I wanted closer.
I wanted inside her.
She parted her lips from mine, panting, and looked at me with hazy eyes. The last thing I wanted
was to pressure her, scare her. “Should we stop?” I asked, hearing the deep rasp of lust in my
voice.
She gazed into my eyes for a moment before shaking her head and falling back into our kiss.
I stood, picking her up in my arms, and carried her upstairs. In the bedroom, I laid her down on
the bed and straddled her, sitting on my knees with my hands on either side of her head. “I need
you to tell me if you don’t want to do this,” I said. “Or if you want me to stop.”
She gave me a sinful smile and looked up at me with those lusty, hooded eyes. “I’ve wanted this
for as long as I knew what sex was, Tyler.” She ran her hands up my thighs. “I wanted this to take
away what I didn’t want. To replace it with you. Someone who cared. Someone safe.”