Kept by Tracey Lampley
No nonsense Kate Mercer never thought she’d become a kept woman, but when she wants out of the arrangement with multi-millionaire, Carrington Grant, she finds herself in deadly danger. So she flees into the arms of her ex, Lamar Burton, a former NFL linebacker-turned-cop who harbors his own jealousies and misgivings. Will her choice endanger her life?
Kate collected her mail from the kiosk located in the lobby. After sifting through the junk mail, she came across an invitation to a Black Tie event to a charity dinner on behalf of Children’s Hospital. Kate knew that Cary secured her invitation, as he loved to see Kate dressed up, so he could steal a few moments of sexual pleasure with her. Like at that charity for cancer research.
Kate and Cary were in the packed ballroom waltzing, when they’d glided to the terrace. Cary looked regal dressed in a tuxedo. His granite features had softened. She could feel his urgent desire for her straining against the tux.
“Grab it,” he’d commanded.
Kate scanned the ballroom for Cary’s wife. She glimpsed Elizabeth Grant scrutinizing their waltz, and suddenly, Kate began trembling. She’d imagined she’d seen arrows shooting from Elizabeth’s eyes. Cary had unzipped his trousers and freed his penis.
“Grab it,” Carrington Grant commanded again, his voice brooking no argument. Kate seized his penis. He gasped and gazed down at her as she worked his penis into a rod of lust. He snatched his silk handkerchief from his breast pocket. “Take this now.”
Elizabeth Grant had sauntered over to them. She was but yards away. “Carrington, I’d like a word with you, darling,” she’d said.
He gasped, “I’m coming!”
Kate snatched the hanky and discreetly wrapped it around his throbbing penis until his penis went slack. Cary had smiled down at her and said, “I’m glad we came.”
Kate had stuffed his limp penis, still wrapped in the soiled silk hanky, inside his trousers and zipped them just as Elizabeth advanced to within ten feet of them. Kate warned, “I’m glad you came because your wife is staring daggers at us.”
Looking back on that evening brought a smile to Kate’s face. Now Kate shook her head. It was time for Carrington “Cary” Grant Sr. to divorce Elizabeth and give their child his name. Tonight Kate intended to let Cary know she’s eight weeks pregnant—not because she loved him. On the contrary, she was beginning to loathe him and his demanding ways. How had she allowed herself to be kept? But that was then; this was now. It was the reason she’d bought the condo—to ensure her independence from him in case he balked at marriage.
Kate was thinking about all of this while she jogged the six blocks to her bank and couldn’t shake the inexplicable feeling she was being followed. But when she glanced over her shoulder, no one stood out. So she entered the bank pulling her id from her fanny pack.
“There’s a hold on your account,” said the frosted-haired middle-aged teller.
Kate frowned, a bit confused. “A hold? For what?” She eyed the teller and thought, was it possible the powerful Carrington Grant Sr. had found out she’d pawned the glamorous baubles he’d gifted her? But that would mean he had someone working with him on the inside of the bank.
“It looks like someone tried accessing your account by computer, and the login warnings shut it down. It’s a safety precaution.”
Kate closed her eyes and sighed. Changing her password was the smartest thing she’d done this week besides purchase the condo. And her secrecy was probably giving Cary fits. Now he was wondering what she was up to.
“All you have to do is change your security questions, and we’re done.” The teller smiled.
Minutes later, Kate made the changes and made the transfer. Her mother’s utilities would be paid, she was thinking as she set out to return to her condo. As she passed the bakery, she glanced in the side mirror of a FedEx delivery truck and glimpsed a man in dreadlocks seemingly trailing her. A wave of fear washed over her, and she wasn’t sure of the reason. Perhaps her experience of seemingly being chased from her garage dictated her fear now. If it wasn’t for her experience last night, would she have taken off in a flat out run now?
She was sprinting down Seventh Street, weaving in and out of the paths of passersby when she collided with an immovable object. “Whoa!” The uniformed police officer’s massive arms enveloped Kate. An electric charge shot through her. It was like nothing she’d experienced before. She could smell his aftershave. He set her down and stepped back. “You okay, Katrina?”
It was Lamar Burton, her ex and the man Kate had spurned for Carrington Grant. Kate swallowed. He was somehow taller than she remembered—about six foot two—and chocolate. His name tag identified him as Officer Burton. And he was built like a tank. His crescent moon eyes were twinkling. “I-I think I’m okay,” she stammered. As her tummy fluttered, Kate thought be still, my child.
“You don’t look okay. Not that you look bad, but you look terrified.”
“That’s because I am—was. I thought someone was following me.”
Q: Romance readers have a lot of choices these days. What makes KEPT stand out in the crowd?
A: The book is a blend of light eroticism and suspense.
Q: We like to include our favorite quote in our reviews of the books we read. What is your favorite quote from KEPT?
A: My favorite quote from KEPT is:
“There’s not much you do that I don’t know about, Katrina Mercer. You can go back to that name now. Because you’re acting more like a Katrina than a Kate.”
About Tracey Lampley
Since I was a kindergartner, I wanted to be an author and publisher. So at the tender age of five I published my first book by punching three holes in ten sheets of typing paper and binding them together with my hair ribbon. My uncle bought my book for 5 cents. One nickel, imagine that! Now I want to be the Shonda Rhimes of novellas.