Captive Heat: Leia is compelled to explore her innermost desire: to be held captive by a dark, sensual god of a man. Sebastian's uncommon sexual skills are so potent she is ready to submit to him in every way...

Also included in this anthology: Personal Possessions by Devyn Quinn and Liaison by Anya Howard

Flames licked at a small, dirty window on either side of the doorway, blackening the glass. From Leia’s cross-armed vantage fifteen feet away, the heat coming through the open door turned from steamy to sweltering.

Mindful of her bare feet and how stupid it had been to walk even a quarter mile down a decently-cleared trail in three-inch heels, she put another ten feet between her and the hovel.

She wouldn’t be escaping this overgrown, secluded stretch of woods and returning to her life in the city until the shack was ashes. Looking skyward, past the towering tops of decades-old elms, she attempted to escape the memories.

Hazy purple-black filled a summer sky that had been blue minutes ago. The color vanished any chance of escape, watering her eyes and fucking with her mind even more. Reminding her of all the times she’d worn the ugly shade on her body, of all the shit she’d endured. The way Ken had handled her, called her a fat ass good to be nothing but his house bitch and sex slave.

Her ass was big—she’d come to terms with her size along with a whole lot of other things the last two-and-a-half years. But she was no one’s slave.

Then why won’t the memories quit?

An explosion erupted from somewhere inside, knocking the question from Leia’s mind. She focused back on the doorway as a second blast followed. Then more.

The first of the windows exploded, spewing fragments of glass for yards as if the winds of Hell themselves spurred them on. Panic slammed into her belly as the last of those fragments barely missed clipping her side, and she backed further down the trail on rote.

Son of a bitch! This was supposed to be an easy means of destroying Ken’s meager possessions while severing any final ties between them. It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous.

But, just as the ties between them had been dangerous from nearly the moment they’d said “I do,” this situation became dangerous as hell in the blink of her stinging eyes.

Pure TNT seemed to detonate inside the shack, the caterwaul sound near deafening. Reflex had her hands jerking to her ears. Too late, she realized she should have covered her body. The second window exploded in a blaze of orange and black fury. Shards of discolored glass arced toward her. This time they didn’t miss, but moved past the lavender silk of her designer shorts and tank combo to slice at bare skin.

Covering her head with her hands, Leia half fell/half dove to the trail. The air whooshed out of her as her breasts and belly collided with the hard earth. The breath dragged back between her lips, even the low air pungent now, and she gagged out a cough. Pain scorched through her thigh. Burning frissions of ache speared upward. She bit her lip against the hurt, tasting blood, savoring that bit of life-confirming metallic warmth as she pinched her eyes shut and waited for the explosions to end.

A deceptive calm descended after nearly a full minute, broken only by the crackle and hiss of the fire. Adrenaline pumping through her system, she gingerly turned on her side. Through bleary eyes, she took stock of her injuries. Dirt and nicks covered her legs and a chunk of concave glass protruded from the inside of her lower thigh, just past the cuff of her shorts.

Brown-bottle glass.

“Shit. Shit!” Of course, the bastard had alcohol inside. Drunkenness had always been the fuel that fed his rage.

Popping sounded to her right, keeping her attention on the present when it threatened to stray to the past. The popping was far too close. Holding her breath, Leia followed the direction of the sound . . . and panic closed in all over again.

The fire was no longer confined to the shack, but eating away at the rain-deprived woods and quickly making its way toward the trail.