Show Me How to Live: Part 1 (Bacchus House) Read online

  Show Me How to Live: Part 1

  A Bacchus House Novel (Book 1)

  Hélène Soper

  Wine soaked romance that will leave you breathless…and begging for more.

  No woman could love the Dom he’d become.

  Luc Christianson can’t live through the anguish of losing another woman he loves. For a few moments of carnal release at Bacchus House, Niagara’s members-only BDSM club, he escapes the constant ache of loss. But he has two firm rules — never play with the same sub twice, and emotions are never part of the scene.

  Submission can only begin when she learns to trust herself.

  Journalist Avery Lewis is putting her life back together after she escapes her abusive husband. He never grasped safe, sane, and consensual. She’s earning back what he stole from her — career, self-esteem, and the ability to trust. But there’s a piece missing. Avery’s a submissive despite the fact her body jumps into full flight mode when she begins to relinquish control.

  A chance meeting at a wine tasting event reignites an undeniable connection Luc and Avery shared in high school, but never acted upon. She craves Luc’s brand of Dominance and revels in the boundless pleasure he extracts from her body. He needs to watch her flourish under his hand, to move beyond her past and fully embrace her submission to him. Only him.

  But sometimes, the place you feel safest is where your worst nightmare comes to life.

  When Avery receives a series of sinister messages Luc’s protective instincts roar to life. But Avery refuses to let any man, or her past, control her life.

  Show Me How to Live: Part 1 is a blistering hot novel with plenty of suspense to keep you guessing. Luc and Avery’s HEA comes in Show Me How to Live: Part 2, but not without a shocking twist that will leave you breathless.

  If you enjoy sexy romance with a healthy dollop of suspense, like Roni Loren, Lexi Blake, and Cherise Sinclair, the Show Me How to Live duet will leave you hot and satisfied.

  Show Me How to Live: Part 1

  A Bacchus House Novel (Book 1)

  Hélène Soper

  Show Me How to Live: Part 1

  Copyright 2018 Michèle Bosc writing as Hélène Soper

  ISBN 978-1-9994716-2-0

  Edited by Judy Roth

  Cover Design by Clarity Book Cover Design

  Ebook Design by MarksEbookFormatting.com

  All Rights Are Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  First edition: December 2018

  HeleneSoper.com

  To abuse survivors, men and women, and their children who through sheer resilience demonstrate immeasurable courage by living their own lives.

  Fifty cents from the sale of this book,

  and Show Me How to Live Part 2,

  will be donated to Gillian’s Place.

  As one of Ontario's first shelters for abused women and children, Gillian’s Place has been providing safe refuge and non-residential programs that enable women and their children to break the cycle of violence for over 40 years. www.Gilliansplace.com

  Contents

  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

  Afterword

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Hélène Soper

  About the Author

  1

  The room was an assault on the senses. Mouth-watering aromas drifted from the chefs’ stations dotting the center of the Fallsview Casino’s main ballroom. Opulent floral arrangements were strategically placed to frame regional vignettes — Niagara-on-the-Lake wineries clustered in one area, Prince Edward County wineries took up residence in another. Proud winemakers and winery owners were on hand to personally pour their top vintages for select members of the media and enthusiastic consumers who were prepared to pay the hefty price for a ticket. Clinking glasses punctuated the echoes of laughter and backslapping.

  Luc adjusted the sharply creased cuffs of his tuxedo jacket and fingered his cuff links as he surveyed every inch of the room. Everything was perfect. The Ontario Vintner’s Awards, the wine industry’s annual awards gala, was Luc Christianson’s debut as Sky Hill Estate Winery’s president. Winning the prestigious “Red Wine of the Year” at the award ceremony earlier in the evening had been an unexpected surprise and the ideal opportunity for his dad, Billy, to announce his retirement and Luc as his successor. Now every reporter and wine blogger in the room wanted a piece of him.

  The move home promised to propel Luc toward something positive — taking the helm of Sky Hill Estate Winery, his family’s business in Niagara-on-the-Lake. This was always the plan, from the day Luc entered law school he knew he would follow his roots home, eventually. Tragedy had simply expedited the timing. He hoped he wouldn’t have to rehash the sorrow of losing the most important women in his life — which he’d successfully buried — just to feed a reporter’s lust for salacious details. Death, no matter how long ago, seemed to be always newsworthy. Luc steeled his spine as he plastered on his best wine-guy smile to face the scrum.

  “Luc, you’ve made a name for yourself as a corporate lawyer in Toronto, made partner in a Bay Street firm, why give that up to come home to Niagara to helm your family’s winery?”

  Luc had spent the past few weeks since his move from Toronto getting up to speed on not only Sky Hill’s business but also the trends and issues in the industry. He was ready for any question a reporter might throw his way. This softball question was no reason to let his guard down. Reporters could be every bit the shark his former courtroom opponents were.

  “Thanks for asking, Mike. It’s simple. It was time. My roots are here, pardon the pun. Even though my law practice had me based in Toronto, Niagara was never far from my heart. I’ve been helping out behind the scenes for years. Dad feels it’s time for him to reduce his workload, travel a bit, not stress about the day-to-day operations. My job will be to honor the foundation my parents built with Sky Hill back when no one believed we could grow world-class wine grapes here in Niagara. He proved them wrong in fine fashion. Now we need to take the company into the future and capitalize on the growing demand for Canadian wine.”

  What Luc didn’t say was the winery gave him purpose again because the law sure didn’t fire him up like it used to. Sky Hill represented a future he could embrace, even though that future looked markedly different than it once did. As president of his family’s business he’d be responsible for the livelihood of more than fifty employees and their families. No longer could Luc stand back and watch as the world was spun on its axis, unable or unwilling to engage with the people around him. An automaton going through the motions of life without feeling the all-consuming pain of his loss. He needed to step up, put the past behind him, and get down to business to ensure Sky Hill had a rosy future.

  “I won’t be doing this alone.” Luc re
ached behind him to bring his middle sister to the front of the scrum. “I’d like to introduce you to my sister, Geneviève. She’s been working in New Zealand for the past few years after graduating from U.C. Davis with her master’s in Viticulture and Oenology. Dad and I are thrilled she’s bringing her knowledge and expertise to Sky Hill. We want her making our wines, not our competitors’. And our youngest sister, Anne-Sophie, is also here this evening. She’s taking the official photos tonight so be sure to have your game face on.”

  Everyone in their circle chuckled right on cue.

  A tingling awareness washed over his skin as he shook a reporter’s hand. He glanced over the man’s shoulder toward the ballroom doors. His heart stopped.

  God, she was gorgeous. Her blonde hair was swept up at the back as a few loose tendrils accentuated her elegant neck. Her lavender gown skimmed decadent curves. Beads formed a flower that nestled perfectly below her breasts while its stem pointed his eyes to a slit that exposed a sinfully sexy amount of leg. His arousal grew just looking at her.

  Hold on.

  Was that his high school English tutor, Avery Lewis?

  Detective Gryffin Calder, Luc’s best friend since grade school, had mentioned yesterday when they met for their weekly sparring workout that he was Avery’s plus-one for the evening.

  But. Holy. Shit.

  Gryff gave him the bro nod with his chin. Luc nodded back. He hadn’t seen Avery for years. Back in high school, Luc had thought she was sweet, pretty, and was much too innocent for his dark desires. His body reacted to her now as it had back then — he couldn’t take his eyes off her and his dick strained to get closer. But now she was a sexy-as-hell woman. A winemaker stepped in front of Avery to kiss her on both cheeks. She gave a professional smile and kissed him back then followed him to a table and disappeared from Luc’s view.

  Someone cleared their throat, bringing Luc’s attention back to the group huddled near his family. He stuck out his hand to shake the one in front of him, though he couldn’t have cared less who was attached to the other end. His brain was focused entirely on catching another glimpse of her. He heard his father saying something, but it was as if he were underwater, hearing the sounds but not discerning the words.

  Gen shoved her elbow into Luc’s ribs, dissipating the fog in his head.

  “What’s got your undivided attention big brother?”

  “Nothing.” Luc tried to even out his breathing, but Avery came back into view and he hoped like hell no one heard his grade-school gasp.

  “I call bullshit.” Gen followed his line of sight. “Wow, she’s hot. Wait. Is that Avery Lewis?”

  Luc made his way across the room, ignoring his sister. Light and sound faded away, every nerve fiber was attuned to Avery’s presence. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Oh, what he wanted to do with that spectacular ass. Visions of her porcelain skin, red from his hand, made his dick harder than the steel posts he spent summers pounding into the ground at the end of each vineyard row. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a visceral reaction to a woman. But she wasn’t just a random woman. She was no longer the girl who listened to his lame-ass stories about the locker room pranks perpetrated by his football teammates. The girl who spent as much time learning about AC/DC, Queen, and Led Zeppelin from him as he had learned about Shakespeare and the great American novel from her.

  Avery sampled some wines and chatted with the winemaker. She exuded poise and confidence as she mingled with the wine pros. Fuck that was sexy. Gryff and Avery appeared quite comfortable with each other, touching each other with familiarity accorded to very good friends, or lovers. But, Gryff said they were just friends.

  What the hell was he thinking? Luc had never been the jealous type, and he had no claim on Avery.

  Luc shook his head at where his mind was going. These past five years were governed by one unbreakable rule — play with a sub once. Sex was sex. Scenes were transactional, negotiated, fulfilled then forgotten. Feelings were never part of the mix. But Avery wasn’t a club sub he could scene with and forget. He needed to get his control back in check and move on. An ache constricted his chest. Breathing normally became wishful thinking. Guilt anchored his feet to the floor as he desperately tried to will the throbbing in his cock to calm the fuck down. Avery could never be his. Why did that notion feel like a kick in the gut?

  “This is our twenty-fifteen Pinot Noir grown on our estate vineyard. It was all hand-harvested and spent twelve months in one-year-old French oak.”

  “Well, Frank, I think you have a winner here. I love the spicy notes on the finish. The red fruit is bright and fresh. Nicely balanced.”

  Avery liked the wine well enough but knew from previous tastings it wouldn’t be her favorite in the room. As she emptied the remainder of her glass into the spittoon she felt a presence behind her — a warm, sensual awareness that set her skin aflame.

  “Hey man, congrats on the award.” Avery vaguely heard Gryff say to someone as he reached out to bump fists.

  “Thanks. It was a good opportunity to announce the changes at Sky Hill. So far, the reaction has been positive.”

  God, that voice. She’d recognize it anywhere. And his scent — a heady aroma of pure male musk mingled with a warm spice that was uniquely Luc Christianson. It enveloped her in a cozy, pheromone-laden cloak that seeped into her bones, filling spaces she didn’t know were empty. She couldn’t control the shudder that racked her body from head to toe. Heat climbed up her neck, flushed her cheeks, and sent a rush of dampness between her thighs. She took in a deep breath and slowly faced him.

  Her logical brain flew the coop leaving her body, which had its own agenda, in charge. He looked as delicious as he smelled — warm spice like a good Pinot Noir, layered with his unique musk. His thick chestnut hair had grown out since she last saw him a couple of years ago at his mother’s funeral. Imagining running her fingers through the glossy waves made her knees weak and her sex throb.

  Just like back in high school, her body had an instinctual reaction to the mere presence of this man. Quarterback of the senior football team, lead guitarist in the rock band that played their weekend dances, the super-hot guy all the girls wished they could call their boyfriend. Avery’s teenage crush was standing right there. Looking at her. His eyes feasting on her. And her body responded like Pavlov’s dogs.

  “How’s your dad handling the change in his routine? Is he dialing back a bit?” Gryff asked.

  Luc chuckled. The low rumble set off a cascade of answering vibrations in parts of her body she hadn’t heard from in years. Luc’s eyes released their hold on her as he answered their friend’s question. Finally, her lungs expanded, taking in much needed oxygen.

  “Come on, Gryff, you know he won’t altogether retire from this way of life, but he’s stoked about getting away for a bit of downtime. He’s been going nonstop since Mom died. He needs a break.”

  Luc’s focus swiveled back onto Avery as he extended his hand. She hesitated for a brief second and glanced up at his gorgeous face, mesmerized by his warm, molten brown eyes. He had always been an old soul, sharing a world of experience and depth of emotion in a simple glance. For a heartbeat, a stark emptiness shrouded the life in his gaze but in a blink, it was gone to be replaced by the trademarked, panty-melting, Christianson dimpled smirk. She practically jumped out of her skin when Gryff grazed her arm. It was probably too much to ask that no one noticed.

  “Avery,” Gryff said, “you remember Luc from high school.”

  She placed her hand in the one Luc courteously offered and managed to nod. Her tongue was rendered useless, plastered against the roof of her mouth. Luc’s eyes got darker, the pupils dilating, all but crowding out the irises. She was floored by the surging hunger in his eyes. And all his masculine energy was directed at her. This was her longest running fantasy coming to life. Her heartbeat accelerated like a thoroughbred breaking out of the starting gate. She hoped he didn’t feel the trembling telegraphing down her arm she was d
esperately trying to control.

  All bets were off when he leaned in and planted a friendly kiss on each cheek. A lovely custom practiced throughout Wine Country, one in which she participated in regularly with friends and colleagues. But none ignited the possibilities of “what if” as this one from Luc. He seemed to linger for a moment as if taking in her scent, his breath causing goose bumps to erupt across her skin.

  Who was she kidding? Luc could have any gorgeous woman in the room with nothing more than a wolfish smile and a few skillfully chosen words. She was the girl who tutored him in English. The buddy who he used as a sounding board devising plans on how to get into the pants of his latest fling. Nothing more.

  Avery needed to get her head out of the past and remember she was here to do a job. She pulled away from the envelope of masculine heat that seeped into her bones. A chill crawled up her arm as he dropped her hand, severing their connection, allowing the cooler air of the room to glide over her sensitized skin.

  Turning to his side, Luc extended his elbow. “May I? I’d love to get your opinion on our wines.”

  Avery tucked her hand into the crook of his arm so he could escort her to the Sky Hill table. Each point of contact — hand, arm, hip — was set aflame by his touch. His innate sexuality smoldered, barely concealed by his tux. She was on the arm of the sexiest guy in the room. Eyes followed them as they made their way across the floor. When did walking become a mind-bending proposition?