The southern thirst trap.., p.1
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The Southern Thirst Trap (Southern Gods Book 3), page 1

 

The Southern Thirst Trap (Southern Gods Book 3)
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The Southern Thirst Trap (Southern Gods Book 3)


  Copyright © 2024 by Adrian R. Hale

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Sarah Kill Creative Studio

  https://www.SarahKillCreativeStudio.com

  Edited by Indie Proofreading

  https://www.indieproofreading.com

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recorded, or otherwise) without the prior written permission from the above author of this book except for the use of brief quotations in the review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Contents

  Content Warning

  Playlist

  Dedication

  1. One

  2. Two

  3. Three

  4. Four

  5. Five

  6. Six

  7. Seven

  8. Eight

  9. Nine

  10. Ten

  11. Eleven

  12. Twelve

  13. Thirteen

  14. Fourteen

  15. Fifteen

  16. Sixteen

  17. Seventeen

  18. Eighteen

  19. Nineteen

  20. Twenty

  21. Twenty-one

  22. Twenty-two

  23. Twenty-three

  24. Twenty-four

  25. Twenty-five

  26. Twenty-six

  27. Twenty-seven

  28. Twenty-eight

  29. Twenty-nine

  30. Thirty

  31. Thirty-one

  32. Thirty-two

  33. Thirty-three

  34. Thirty-four

  35. Thirty-five

  Epilogue

  Also By

  Acknowledgements

  Keep In Touch

  About the Author

  This story contains explicit sexual content, profanity, mild violence, and topics that may be sensitive to some readers.

  The Southern Thirst Trap Playlist

  “Fallin’ (Adrenaline)” – Why Don’t We

  “Heaven” – Julia Michael

  “I Forgot That You Existed” – Taylor Swift

  “You Problem” – Cloudy June, Emlyn

  "Fortnight" (Feat. Post Malone) – Taylor Swift

  “Good In Goodbye” – Madison Bear

  “In The Kitchen” – Renee Rapp

  “Rumors” (feat. Zayne) – Sabrina Claudio

  “Thot Shit” – Megan Thee Stallion

  “Selfish” – Madison Bear

  “Are You Gone Already” – Nicki Minaj

  “Daddy Issues” – The Neighbourhood

  “Lights On” – H.E.R.

  “Bad Girls Do It Well” – Ex Habit

  “Bathroom” – Montell Fish

  “Play With Fire (feat. Yacht Money)” – Sam Tinnesz

  “I’m Yours” – Isabel LaRosa

  “The Alchemy – Taylor Swift

  “Streets – Silhouette Remix” – Doja Cat

  “Only Love Can Hurt Like This” – Paloma Faith

  “Skyscraper” – Demi Lovato

  “God Is A Woman” – Ariana Grande

  “I Want To” – Rosenfeld

  “Show Me” – Black Atlas

  “Needy” – Ariana Grande

  “Hits Different” – Taylor Swift

  “Dangerous Woman” – Ariana Grande

  “Do It For Me” – Rosenfeld

  “The Feels” – Labrinth

  "imgonnagetyouback" – Taylor Swift

  “Powerful (feat. Ellie Goulding & Tarrus Riley)” – Major Lazer

  “Lights Out” – Nbdy

  “Love Me” – Ex Habit

  “Church” – Chase Atlantic

  "Hey Daddy (Daddy's Home)" – Usher

  Check out the full playlist on Spotify

  For Libby and Britt – my booksta babies and the best hype girls I could have wished for. Thank you for being my people and loving this book with the same fierceness I do.

  one

  Zander

  “We’re approaching fourteen thousand feet. Time to fly, Javi,” I yell over the roar of the wind through the open door. I glance once more out at the impossible nothingness of sky stretching as far as I can see, and finally the pale glimpse of land far below.

  “Are you sure this is how you want to start, and possibly end, your day?” he yells, as he attempts to loosen his death grip on the door handle.

  “Ten grand says I’ll have the softer landing,” I toss back at his tightly set face before spreading my arms wide to fall backward into the open expanse that becomes rushing wind as gravity grabs a hold of me. I see Javi’s mouth move in what has to be a curse at my expense and jerkily follow me out of the airplane before I’m too far away.

  I barrel roll onto my stomach, the wind buffeting against my body, arms and legs spread wide. There is nothing like these few moments of unobstructed falling through the sky to wake you up and remind you that you’re mortal. Not even a beautiful woman gets me this high or has the blood pounding through my veins in a shockingly intense rhythm.

  Well, there was one woman who had an even greater effect, but I push that intrusive thought back into the vault where it belongs. I don't think about her, especially not when I’m already free-falling out of the sky. She’s just as likely to get me killed as she is to save me if I start thinking about her now.

  I tuck my arms and legs close against my body and rocket downward, a quick set of somersaults sufficiently setting my head spinning and thoroughly removing all thoughts of women, even that one specific woman, from my mind.

  My face cracks into a grin against the blast of wind in my face, arms and legs spreading back out as I check the altimeter on my wrist. A quick tug to the cord at my side to open my chute as the ground rushes up towards me is all that is needed to stop the perilous plunge. My body jerks upwards momentarily, the canopy ballooning above me, and the sudden quiet is a shocking difference from the howling wind that had blocked out all sound. All thoughts are pushed from my mind other than surviving… and maybe an errant thought of she-who-must-not-be-named.

  My head has been caught up in too much lately. I needed to abandon all thoughts of work and focus on what really matters for a moment. Falling out of the sky is a great way to put everything into perspective. Nothing but my gauges and the canopy above me working as it should have my focus now.

  I keep my eyes trained below, pulling on my hand controls to angle me toward the verdant field still thousands of feet below. A glance over my shoulder shows me a bright red canopy that tells me Javi isn't far behind. I refocus on my landing, angling the steering lines and situating myself for a quick drop and running finish. I yank hard and collapse the chute as my feet connect with gravity and the earth once again, running forward toward the waiting group of SUVs and our crew a safe distance off the landing field. Piece of cake. Adrenaline rush achieved, all before the work week even begins.

  A whoosh, the sound of feet smacking the ground, and a shrill scream have me turning to see what kind of spectacle Javi has made of himself.

  “How? How do you manage to thump down like a rhino executing a leap when you have all the modern technology that has made skydiving smooth and beautiful right there in your hands?” I jeer at him as he untangles himself from the chute that is billowing around him while he lies on the ground.

  “You’re the psycho who likes jumping out of perfectly good planes. I just go along to make sure there’s a witness if you kill yourself. Of course, you’re better at the landing than I am.” His chest is heaving, and his usually olive skin is unnaturally ashen. He’s still terrified despite having done this dozens of times before, right along with me.

  “I thought you’d grown to love it, Javi,” I joke. “Now, get it together so we can make it back to Atlanta before the day gets away from us.”

  I pull off my rig and safety gear before stripping out of the jumpsuit and handing them to the waiting staff, who jogged over at our landing. My long stride eats up the distance to Javi’s Land Rover Defender that will take us back to the office. Once I reach it, I change out of the casual jump clothes and into the pressed suit I have hanging in a garment bag right there in the field at the side of the vehicle, not worried about who sees me. This isn’t a locker room, but no one’s sensibilities will be offended by my brazen actions. Javi changes on his side of the SUV, and I can’t help but smile at the freedom singing through my blood from the rush of the jump.

  There’s nothing like starting a Monday morning from fourteen thousand feet to put me in a good mood, even when we’re dealing with shit at work. That’s why I scheduled the jump. It’s bad enough with the normal stress of the holidays, but work has been creeping in enough to send me running for an adrenaline fix. My brothers deal with it in their own ways.

  Payton escapes to his lake house or the coast and gets up to whateve
r secretive things he does to blow off steam. But normally, he’s at work dealing with PR nightmares or ensuring the tech side of the business is rock solid.

  Hayes has been up his own ass about his upcoming anniversary with his newly pregnant wife. I can’t believe it’s been a whole year that Paige has been in our lives and has turned my asshole brother into a doting husband and slightly less of a workaholic, giving us all less of a headache. She’s worth her weight in gold for that reprieve alone, and I should really find her a nice Christmas present this year, since I can't exactly give her another director seat on a board like we did last year.

  And fuck, what a year it’s been. We spent it navigating what to do with the information that Octavius Rex handed us on New Year’s Eve. Turns out running roughshod over any company we wanted to acquire and dismantling family legacies and companies on a whim for years could really make people hate us. That kind of hate fuels more than just personal grudges, and a corporate cabal of angry assholes tried to take down Olympus International for good.

  Had Rex not come through when he did…well, I don’t even want to think about what that would have cost us. It’s been a long year of picking up the pieces, revamping our image and the public’s perception of our company, and leaning into new areas of expansion.

  Javi’s voice brings me out of my thoughts that are quickly displacing the feel-good endorphins I’d hoped would last a little longer.

  “Maybe if your hobbies were soaking up the sun on a rooftop pool deck with a cold cerveza in hand, you’d see me actually enjoy something you drag me to. No. Instead, you jump out of airplanes and off cliffs or dive into the ocean without an air tank. You’re supposed to need some downtime and peace every once in a while, man. When do I get a vacation from your intensity?” he grumbles at me across the SUV, hurrying to finish changing so we can start our trek back into Atlanta.

  The last time I took a real vacation was five years ago, and even then, it had included freediving in the Maldives, but with a beautiful woman instead of Javi. Jesus, was she good in bed. My internal warning system snaps me to attention, keeping me from reminiscing too far into the memory of the long-legged Sports Illustrated swimsuit model who had accompanied me. I let that one go on far too long for comfort, spending two weeks wrapped around her sun-kissed skin and fearless enthusiasm to chase the adrenaline rush with me. I clench my teeth and focus on the present rather than she-who-must-not-be-named.

  No repeats. And no attachments. Ever again.

  It doesn't matter that I can still vividly recall every highlight of that trip and each curve of her body. I blocked her number and removed her from my mind as soon as I resurfaced in Atlanta.

  “You can take a break when I do. Until then, be ready for any adventure. That’s your job.” Technically, his job is to be my Senior Vice President, but he tasked himself with ensuring I don’t do anything too risky that may affect the business, so now, he’s my adventure buddy, too. A good sport and a good employee. What more could I ask for?

  “It’s also my job to remind you that we have a meeting to close the Rosenthall deal this week. Hayes wanted you to be the lead on that, rather than a team. He said we couldn’t afford to send in anyone but you.” Javi jumps directly back into work mode as soon as the adrenaline works out of our systems.

  I dust imaginary lint from the shoulder of my crisp white shirt as I smile to myself. “I’m the best at what I do. No mistaking that. We’ll have the new enterprise in our hands before the week is over, piece of cake.”

  Javi jumps in the driver’s seat of the Defender while I climb into the passenger side and pull my phone out of the glove box. It’s nice having everything arranged so perfectly so I can get my fix of free-falling before wheeling and dealing. Just another perk of being king. My messages are currently free of any pressing matters, thanks to an impressive staff, who filter out all but the most urgent on my behalf. Not bad for a Monday.

  I absently open a browser tab and see the Atlanta Haute List site that must have been there since the last story that was sent to me to read, likely by Payton, who keeps us updated with all the rumors. This gossip blog seems to be obsessed with my family, publishing even the most trivial of stories related to us. Last week, it was a story about my brother Hayes and his wife Paige’s foundation or something. A quick scan of the photo below the story has me scrolling back up to the headline in a flash, and then I’m quickly reading through the story itself.

  The Atlanta Haute List

  Model-Turned-Chef Closing In On Atlanta Condors Tight End

  Atlanta foodie favorite, Harlowe Sorenson, knows a good ass. Whether it’s her own from her scantily clad swimsuit modeling days, or her newest connection to Atlanta’s newest offensive football sensation, Knox Contraire, she knows all the best angles to hit.

  Sorenson and Contraire were first linked last summer at a children’s benefit gala (see our story where we gushed about how cute a couple they would make), but that wasn’t the last of it. Sorenson showed up to Condors home games during the season just often enough to start the whispers that she was there to see a certain player on the offense. It wasn’t until recently that they’ve been spotted together at trendy hot spots all over the city.

  It was just the two of them photographed together until this weekend when Sorenson’s rarely seen four-year-old son, Hendricks, joined the pair for a trip to the zoo. Contraire made a great impression on the young boy, throwing Hendricks over his shoulder and giving him lots of tickles, much to the delight of Sorenson. Harlowe captured the antics with her own photos that she’s unlikely to share on social media, given her stance on not putting her kid in the public eye, but you can see our photos of the outing below, provided by Hauties in the know.

  Harlowe has come out of supermodel retirement and has been making a name for herself on her Foulmouthed Foodie YouTube cooking channel and social media accounts, sharing spicy photos and recipes alike that set the internet on fire on the regular. It’s no surprise Knox has scooped her up and is making a move to potentially get serious, if this outing with Hendricks is anything to go by. With her cookbook, At Home With Harlowe: A Foulmouthed Foodie’s Guide To Eating Well releasing today, we’re sure we’ll be getting a better look at Harlowe’s life, and might even be seeing more of her relationship with Knox as she promotes this new venture. We at the Atlanta Haute List will be hunting down the stories and sharing everything we find with our Hauties! Hit Like and Subscribe for all the Haute gossip!

  Think of the devil...

  I didn’t know she’d returned to Atlanta from LA, or that she’s moved from modeling into cooking, but I hadn’t kept up with her life after our trip. Fuck. Five years have done little to change the knock-out gorgeous good looks of Harlowe Sorenson. Even through the grainy cell phone shots taken from a distance, I can see her beauty, but she has a new softness, both to her body and her face, that keeps me staring long and hard at the photos. Still a leggy brunette with high cheekbones and a luscious pout, it appears motherhood, and maybe this new fucking football player, have her smiling more easily than I remember. I chastise myself for hovering over her photos. I don't want women I’ve had before.

  So what if she seems happy? I should be completely unmoved by a candid photo of her and some dude, as jacked as he is. What is he, six-six? Who needs to be that big, anyway?

  Should be, sure, but the weird tugging in my gut has me wondering why I would care so long after I had her for myself. I fuck beautiful women by the handful; what’s one in a hundred from five years ago? Is it just because she was an incredible lay? No. Good sex isn't hard to find. Her ability to go with the flow and follow my lead, yet challenge the fuck out of me at every turn? No, that may have been unique to her, but not enough to have me wanting her now. Then what the hell is it that has me feeling anything at all about this woman now? Maybe it’s because I felt a little too much for her, and in the end, had to hack out my heart to make the parting easier. Fuck.

  “...charisma and charm,” Javi says, breaking into my thoughts.

  “What?” I ask, pulling the phone away from my face and finally giving him my attention.

 
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