Tied: A Crown and Anchor Novella Read online

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Kerri Ann

  © 2017 Kerri Ann

  Cover art by Booming Covers

  Edit by Rebel Edit & Designs

  Formatting by Bound to Be Book Formats

  All rights reserved.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  DEDICATION

  Oh, this and only this is Christina’s fault. Yep, I said it. She’s to blame. She couldn’t keep quiet and leave the characters alone. Nope. Had to poke me with more ideas, and tell me ‘that it would be great to see their own story’. Secretly she wanted me to blend with another that she loves, and twisting me up about one was her way of moving me into another.

  Dammit!

  I would have been fine to leave these characters as independent souls that didn’t have a further story to tell.

  So when you read this, and you will, remember that if it weren’t for Christina telling me ‘you should do this’ then it wouldn’t have happened.

  Totally her fault.

  Go say thanks from me...

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Kerri Ann

  TYLER

  “Stop being a diva, Ty. Go and say hi.”

  My friends have been pushing me into the arms of any willing man for the past sixteen years, and for the past sixteen years I’ve avoided their ministrations triumphantly. Well, with the exception of that one time five years ago. That was a lapse in judgement. I’ve since learned not to listen to their wisdom on men.

  “I’m tired tonight.”

  “Ty, he’s pretty. Go on,” Troy states absently, as he’s gazing into the eyes of his sweet husband Jax.

  Jax and Troy want me blissful and excited to see the sun rise every day, just like the giddy schoolboys they are. Decidedly, I suck at relationships. I’ve learned I’m a horrible judge of character when it comes to men and my heart. Sexy, bag of rocks for brains—most times—and a willing cock is what I find. My meter tops out once I see their beauty, my brain shuts down, and it doesn’t see the lacking morals they offer. Now, after so many horrible stabs at love, I don’t give a shit if I’m alone forever.

  I’m working towards becoming the first gay nun of New York.

  After a multitude of young beauties, my heart has been trampled, crushed, torn to shreds and tossed into a blender. What’s left are the scraps of the Tyler who could’ve been happy. It’s been a few years…well, in all honestly, more than a few years of this shitty, mopey, grumbly, browbeaten, craptastic New Yorker. I'm alone and wishing for love, but when I find a relationship worth trying, I get ahead of myself. They turn out to be manwhores, and I find out one moment later than I should have.

  I end up a mess and broken all over again.

  There’s not enough ice cream in the world to drown my sorrows.

  So I stopped trying.

  Sipping my drink—some fruity concoction—I explore the room. As usual, the bar is full of beautiful men. Brainless oafs just searching for the next fuck to remove the taint from their last. There’s no need to get up off my chair. There’s no use in talking to any one of them because they’re all the same.

  Man, I’m foul. More and more I’m becoming a hardened bitch, all because I can’t find love. I’ve tried. All the men in New York are the same. At least it feels that way.

  Seeing my unease, Tig moves on to tales of his newborn daughter. He and his wife, Tessa, were back to joining us on these nightly romps after their oldest was able to be alone. But with the new baby, she’s home once more doing the feeding, changing, and sleeping when the little bundle allows. I miss her. She directs our conversations to things other than me and my single status.

  Nudging my shoulder, Julia, the true queen in the group, smiles and speaks over the loud speakers that pump the thumping beat. “The conference is in two weeks. Are you ready for it?”

  Shaking my head and rolling my eyes gains me a heavier nudge.

  “Come on. You know you’ll enjoy it,” she chirps.

  “Like they care if I show or not. Most of the governors that are coming are only joining for the freedom to get out of the office.”

  With a quirked brow and a ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me’ grin, Julia shakes her head while running her tongue across her teeth. She’s within inches of falling down drunk. Her man, Rush, better be here to take her home; otherwise, I see trouble in our future.

  The night we invaded the Whiskey speakeasy she had us ejected. Her strip tease slash table dancing caused an all-out frenzy as the other women in the bar joined in. I’ve never seen that many womanly bits flashing around. If I wasn’t secure in my gayness, I might’ve been enticed.

  As I’m pulling her drink slowly away, she pouts. “Julia, the last thing we need is Rush’s imposing frame shutting us down once more. He may own the bar, and he may yield to your whims, but this is pushing it.”

  She waves her hands around. “Pish, posh. Leave my rink arone, Tyler.”

  Smiling, I laugh. “That was almost English, Jules.” It only encourages her further, but oh well. “I think you’ve had enough. Besides, don’t you have to work on a deposition in the morning?”

  Taking the drink back, sloppily gulping the Manhattan, I watch as it dribbles down her chin until she reaches the cherry. Opening her mouth wider, grasping the stem and pulling it with a ‘pop’ noise, the cherry is no more.

  “Tada!” She laughs, wiping the drip from her chin with a tabl
e napkin.

  To look at her right now, you’d never believe this drunk mess is one of the most powerful lawyers in New York.

  I love her husband. He’s gruff, harsh, and imposing, but he’s sweet, loyal, and would defend any of us as his family. And if that fun governor shows...

  “Julia!”

  Never mind. The fun governor has arrived.

  Tossing her arms in the air, she screams, “Linc! Come have a rink!” She hiccups, then smiles as she rises from her seat.

  “They’re called drinks, Kitten.”

  “Lincoln. Come on, just one.” With a monster pout, Julia flops back onto the chaise. Honestly, I love seeing her like this. The prim, proper, contained Julia acts like the good old Keenan we first met. Meeting Keenan while she had no memory of her past, she was a bit...amusing. Julia is regimented.

  He shakes his head. “No, love. I just finished a work out, and now I want to work out with you.”

  “Oh.” Julia beams. “Can we go to upstairs?”

  “No. Time to go home, Kitten.”

  She sticks her bottom lip out so far, it almost hits her chest. “Please?” she whines.

  Sticking his hand out to her, he grins. It's easy to see she's won.

  “Yeah!” She jumps up excitedly, yet wobbly. “Oh. Too much vodka.”

  “That’s it, Kitten.” He hoists her over his shoulder. “Let’s go. Home time.” Hearing her whine and grumble doesn’t deter Rush in the least. “Night. boys.” He smirks and turns toward the door.

  Watching him leave, and her still trying to change his mind, I know that now is my time to exit gracefully. “I’m going home. I have an early day at work,” I say, rising and moving around the table.

  “I should be going too. Tessa will need help in a few hours,” Tig states, guzzling the last of his drink.

  After our goodbyes, the two of us hit the sidewalk outside to hail a ride. “Next time, right?”

  It’s the running joke. Next time I’ll meet a guy worthy of my time. “Yep. Next time,” I say to Tig as he hops in his Uber.

  Standing on the curb alone, I wait for my ride to pull up. “Next time it is,” I mumble to myself.

  CHRIS

  “God dammit, Khaleesi! I don’t care if you’re having a six-headed dragon fall out of your cooch! I need you here!”

  “I am a queen, and I love the pop culture reference, but Chris, you’ll be fine. You were fine before me and my awesomeness, you’ll be right as rain without me. Now suck up those tiny man balls and go be the governor I built you to be.”

  “Jesus. Really? You had to go there? Reminding me that I have a job to do is a low blow, woman. Thanks, Carli Crown,” I quip.

  I can almost hear the exasperated sigh through the phone. “Chris, man up. And I’m not a Crown.”

  “Close enough,” I mutter.

  “I heard that. Look, I can’t come there. I bloody wish I could, but I can’t. One, because I’m starting to look like a house, and two, Jamieson won’t let me out of the bed.”

  I snicker.

  “Get your mind out of the gutter. Jeez! Okay, so what’s the dilemma that has your sparkly girl bits in a twist?”

  “Fine. I have to go to a big corporate function in New York in two days—”

  “And?”

  “And, Elaine is off in Peru for some fungus convention.”

  “Ew. That’s a vision I don’t need.”

  “Trust me, I know. But she won’t be back in time for us to go together, and you know how I get in crowds—”

  “How you get in crowds, in public, and around hot as fuck men. Just admit it, Chris, you’re a whore. You’re going to have to step out of that closet sooner or later, and it might as well be in New York. Elaine can’t always be there for you, and I can’t be around anymore. With everything here, and the Crown’s still hunkered down…”

  Pausing, she yells, “Yes! I mean you, Wyatt! Now stop torturing that throttle and reach for your own junk. I’m sure it could use a good tug.” As she comes back on the line , I hear Wyatt Crown yelling obscenities at her in the background. “Ignore him, I’m important right now.”

  “Carli, I’m not good at this. Maybe Jamieson would let you out…like a hall pass.”

  “Yeah, that’s a bad reference. Hall pass and a Crown don’t compute. Come on, you can’t tell me that you’ll be that bad in New York that you need a chaperone? You can curb your desires for a few nights by staying off the radar, can’t you?”

  Don’t I wish. “What if I bribed you with sparkly diamonds and stacks of hundred dollar bills?”

  “I have more than enough of that shit now. Every time Jamieson thinks he’s screwed up, there he is with a new bauble.”

  Pouting slightly because I can’t sway her, I try a different tactic. “Don’t they have to come home to care for Crown Industries? Haven’t they been missed? Isn’t there a race or something coming up? Please tell me there’s a race coming up.”

  She laughs. I’m glad she’s amused. “Chris, Wyatt isn’t racing because of his damaged wrist. Jamieson has been sidelined indefinitely, and if he thinks to even try to hit a slope, I’ll strap his balls to the board after I attack his junk with a meat grinder.”

  That’s a picture that even I’m fearful of.

  “And the only one who does need to go home is the one packing and leaving today, thank fuck.” Pausing again, she addresses a Crown in her midst. “No, of course I love you, China. But I can’t handle your wild tantric monkey sex every night with Risen.”

  That has to be the busiest and scariest hotel to stay in right now. All the Crown’s, Carli’s sisters, and the other halves, they must keep the staff teeming with wild ideas for the bio’s they’ll write. And even though I’m missing Carli and her amazing skills at keeping me out of the limelight, I give her credit that she’s dealt as well as she has. Her life has been insane over the past few months. She left the States unwillingly to become the head of her Japanese mafia family. She was shot, almost died, is pregnant with Jamieson’s twins, and is prepping for her best friend’s wedding to Jamieson’s little brother, Wyatt.

  And I thought my life was crazy.

  Resigning myself to the fact that there’s no way to drag her back here to help me, I switch tactics and tell her, “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too. No one can make me wonder why I need my car cleaned quite like you.”

  “You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?”

  “Fuck no. Until you tell me why you had it cleaned, and why I found a feather boa in it, you’ll never be off the hook, Chris.” I hear commotion in the background. “I gotta go. Just remember, cock in a sock—no glove, no love.”

  “Dork.”

  “Manwhore jerk.” As she hangs up, I feel better and utterly worse at the same time.

  Looking around my vacant apartment, and the verdant lack of Carli and her larger than life charisma, it leaves me in a state of melancholy.

  When I took the job as the Governor of Indiana I was thrilled, but scared at how I was going to keep my sexual status out of the news. After interviewing assistants that would make Mary Poppins seem lax, this beautiful Asian darling walked through the door. She immediately complimented me on my Gucci socks and we hit it off. So I struck a deal for her employment and voila! I had the best PR person that excessive money could buy.

  Or buy off. The latter was more often than I can count.

  Now, without her, I’m adrift. Christ! I’m about to go to New York, the gay capital of sexiness, without a leash.

  Huh. A leash sounds like—

  No! Chris, pull your shit together!

  Giving myself a pep-talk, I look at the mirror in my hallway. “I’m a strong, beautiful, brilliant man, and I have morals—slightly lacking. I have standards—also slightly lacking—but I will be the pillar of manliness in public.”

  Looking at my strong cheekbones, perfectly trimmed hair, freshly shaved face, and manicured eyebrows, I say, “Yep. You’re gay. No fighting this s
hit, buddy.”

  Shouldering my travel bags, I slouch under the virtual weight of the event. This is going to be some weekend.

  Chris

  After an exhausting flight in coach that was supposed to be first class, the ensuing nail-biting yellow cab trip through traffic—that was not what I expected after my limo broke down—and my ‘lost’ reservation at the hotel, I’m ready for a stiff drink or two. Okay, maybe one will be guzzled down faster than it’s poured, but I think I deserve it.

  “Carli, you spoiled me,” I say to the vacant elevator.

  Without her, I feel that a sex addicts anonymous meeting is in my future.

  Walking into the conference center, I find a stout elderly man in a blue plaid shirt and plain white tie siting at the greeting table. “Hello, sir. Your name, please?”

  “Chris Rock. Governor of Indiana,” I mutter as I look over his head, searching out the much-needed bar.

  Thumbing through the lanyards, looking for mine, he quips, “I bet you get jokes about your famous name all the time.”

  Yep, weekly. “He and I met once. It was quite comical,” I say in a bored tone.

  He hands me my lanyard. “Well, I’m sure you’re never mistaken as him.”

  I give him a saccharine smile instead of poking his eyes out. “No, I’m not.”

  “Well, enjoy the conference, Mr. Rock,” he says sweetly.

  Nodding, I step around his makeshift desk and head directly across the room to the bar, mumbling, “Drink before you kill an old man, Chris.”

  Even stylish old men can be buried for a price, or so I’ve heard.

  Approaching the group at the bar, I find it’s busy. Some people are waiting on drinks, but most are socializing around the ‘water cooler’ like tigers waiting on the antelope at the stream.

  Hearing a voice I know, I try to ignore him. But he’s loud, so it’s hard. “The last intern I had, oh my God! She had legs that nearly reached her neck. I wanted to fuck her so bad. I’m tellin’ ya, that little piece of ass…” He begins acting like he’s squeezing an imaginary toosh. “Carine’s body was built for sin.” I look his way with a pornographic smile as he continues. “I wouldn’t have worried about being caught, mind you. We’re celebrities of sorts, after all.”