Cara Dee Livres

Stranded is the second book in The Auctioned Series. Before you read further, you should read Auctioned. "You have my word, Gray. I will get you off this island, and I will bring you home."It was supposed to be an easy in-and-out job. Nothing Darius Quinn hadn't done before. But this job had something none of the others did: Gray Nolan. Like Murphy's Law advised, anything that could go wrong, would. A mission to save one hometown favorite son was turning into a quest to rescue thirteen traumatized young men against odds so steep, he'd need an oxygen mask to scale them. Facing new dangers and an uncertain future, Darius keeps Gray close and is soon forced to accept that this has become much more than an assignment. For a man whose reputation was built on being ice-cold under pressure, Darius is beginning to discover how good it feels to burn.

Gray Nolan's biggest problem in life was the torch he carried for his closeted coach. He was just another happy-go-lucky dude, a college student and hockey player, when his ordinary existence was interrupted, and he became a human trafficking statistic. He and seven other young men were taken aboard a luxurious yacht where they were to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. Gray was beaten, shattered, and almost defeated by the time his buyer stepped out of the shadows in a swirl of his own cigarette smoke. He was Gray's new owner. Darius Quinn had vowed never again to find himself in a situation like this. His days as a private military contractor were over. No more missions, no more risks, no more personal attachments. Yet, here he was, after weeks of searching, face-to-face with his broken prize. It was time to get the knucklehead back to his family. Quick and easy was Darius's plan. Then everything went sideways.

I was my own worst enemy. For as much as I depended on order and a structured life to easier manage my bipolar disorder, fire was irresistible and indisputably my favorite toy to play with. On the ice, it turned me into a hotheaded hockey player. In the bedroom, my attitude was my last defense, a front I wanted to see tumbling down. But lately, all I got was burned. Love sucked. Correction: it sucked when you were in love with your parents' closest friend and he didn't feel the same. I admitted my feelings for Madigan Monroe over a year ago, and I was still waiting for a response. Now my balance was gone. My anxiety was all over the place, my fits of rage had just earned me a suspension from the team, I questioned myself at every turn, and being home for two weeks was gonna make it impossible to avoid Madigan. I used to be his Abel, his sweetheart, his trouble. It'd been the two of us against the world since I was a kid. I'd even discovered we had kink in common! On paper, I was seemingly perfect for him. Maybe that was why his nonverbal rejection hurt so much. Or maybe it was because, recently, he seemed hell-bent on us "being friends" again. Whatever. I was a loser, and I couldn't resist him for crap.