Mine All Mine : Book One

by Sofia Giselle

  “His mother called him. Said her invitation had disappeared and she couldn’t find it. Said the last time she saw it was when he visited her day before yesterday. She’s tried calling him but he’s not answering or returning her messages.”

  “Serenity probably knows.”

  “Wouldn’t she tell you?”

  Nyle chuckled dryly and shook his head. “No. She knows what it would do to me. She wouldn’t want to see me upset.” He swore under his breath and slapped the window with his palm. “Fuck!”

  “Maybe that’s not why he’s back. It could be any reason. Maybe his mother just misplaced the invitation.”

  “No. No. He knows. That’s the only thing that would bring him back after all this time.” Nyle felt his blood boil and closed his eyes, breathing through his nose. “After all this time… Fuck. Fuck!”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I need to think about this for a minute. Just give me a second.”

  “Nyle- “

  “Dennis,” Nyle harshly interjected. “Quiet. Please.”

  Nyle tugged at his tie again; then yanked it loose and tossed it on the chair next to him. He stalked over to the bar in the corner of the living-area and grabbed a glass, quickly opening a bottle of whiskey and pouring a huge helping.

  Dennis, his best friend and cousin, silently stood by watching, respecting his wish of silence and privacy. Nyle knew it was killing him not to say anything, but his cousin knew not to push him. Tristan Knight was not his favorite subject and the fact that he was back in town and could destroy everything Nyle had worked hard to bring to fruition would likely send him over the edge. He needed time to think. To strategize. To plan… Just in case…

  Nyle walked back over to the window and looked out again, consoled by the calming beauty in front of him. The suite he was staying in was located in one of the fanciest, most luxurious hotels downtown and the hotel was in the center of the city. He was on the 40th floor and could see the gorgeous landscapes and visual attractions for miles and all of the bustling activity below. But as quick as he was distracted by the breath-taking view before him; the tension crawling up his back brought him right back to the misery of the present.

  Not now. Not fucking now. That mother-fucker had bad ass timing. Then again, what else could he expect? He knew how Tristan felt about Serenity and he was more than sure that hadn’t changed in seven years. No matter how fast he’d run away or how he’d left her…

  Nyle took a huge gulp of whiskey, worked it around in his mouth and swallowed. Hard. Seven years. It had taken him seven years to earn her trust. Her love. Seven years to get a kiss. Seven years to touch her. Seven years to look into her eyes and not see Tristan there. Seven years to hear her whisper Nyle’s name in her sleep and not his. The past two years were the happiest he had ever been. He was not about to let that dream die now.

  His hard work had paid off and he had earned every bit of the rewards he’d earned by having her in his life now. Nyle had always been attracted to Serenity, ever since the very beginning. Ever since Tristan had introduced him to her. But out of respect for his best friend, he had let that attraction lay low. Tristan had never known about it.

  Nyle closed his eyes and smiled to himself as memories of the not too distant past danced around in his head, teasing him. He and Serenity had always had great chemistry; although, he knew it was more platonic on her end than on his. He’d tried to date other women, but they just never measured up. He was always comparing them to Serenity. The way they talked. The way they walked. The way they looked. The way they thought.

  Nyle opened his eyes and peered down at the city below again, thinking about Tristan. Tristan had been his best friend. They had been through everything you could possibly imagine together. At one time in his life, he would’ve taken a bullet for that man. But that was before everything changed.

  He had always been in the background with Tristan. Always played second fiddle. From childhood into adulthood. Tristan was the lead singer; Nyle was the lead guitar player. Tristan got all the girls; Nyle got the leftovers. But Nyle knew what it was so he never complained. He never sought the spotlight; that was Tristan’s thing, not his. He didn’t need it. Besides, Tristan was his brother. He loved and respected him, so he was happy to see him succeed. They reached the top together. They reached heights neither of them could’ve ever imagined. They’d both come from single parent homes and had both grown up poor so when they became successful and rich, they reveled in it and celebrated. And Tristan was the front man and heartthrob, but he always gave Nyle his props. Even if he didn’t give him credit for writing the songs.

  At one time Knight and Nyle (the name of their five-man group; Dennis was on keyboards, their mutual friend Ricky was on drums and another friend Maxim, on bass), had been one of the most successful groups in US history. They had multi-platinum albums, chart-topping singles with countless number 1 hits and numerous Grammy and Ascap awards for song-writing. Nyle wrote the majority of the songs but Tristan always got top billing, even though he only threw in one or two lines or words. The record company said it was more appealing for the fans to think their heartthrob was a hopeless romantic who wore his heart on his sleeve and in his lyrics.

  Nyle was good at staying in the background. He played his position. Always left the hotel room whenever Tristan got lucky with some random groupie, unless she insisted on them sharing her. The girls were always all over Tristan and that was okay. Nyle took whatever sloppy seconds came along and he enjoyed them.

  Everything was gravy…Then Tristan met Serenity and everything changed. Nyle felt tears stinging the backs of his eyes as memories of emotional conversations he and Serenity had during her and Tristan’s tumultuous courtship played repeatedly in his mind. He cringed, remembering how she’d cry endlessly over the phone when she couldn’t reach Tristan. How she always begged Nyle to tell her where Tristan was. He was always at the ready on his end, eager to give advice like a dopey Boy Scout. He always covered for Tristan. Always. He lied for him while he was out doing God knows what with God knows who behind Serenity’s back.

  He wanted to tell her. God knows he had. But brotherhood loyalty won out over a lovesick crush. He had wanted her back then. God, how he had wanted her. He was surprised she and Tristan couldn’t tell. If he could, he never called Nyle out on it. Nyle would stare at her incessantly, pretending not to notice the way her hips swayed when she walked. How her breasts bounced with each step she took. How her cute, long ponytail swung from side to side. How the dimple in her left cheek deepened when she laughed. God how he’d loved her laugh. He found himself spending night after night fantasizing about what she was like in bed.

  Not that he needed help imagining what it was like. Tristan never tired of talking about how great their sex life was. Nyle thought it was inappropriate and tacky, but he gobbled the information up like candy. Tristan never talked about her in a disrespectful way, just bragged about what an amorous, passionate, giving lover she was and how she was willing to try almost anything sexually. Nyle took the information Tristan gave him and took it out on whatever fan pussy was available. The fans would’ve preferred Tristan to him but some of them were willing to take whichever one of them was willing. After Serenity, Tristan was too smart to fuck around with a fan who might talk given the opportunity. Other women in the industry became his primary target.

  Now, the fans were after Nyle and he’d won the heart of Serenity, fair and square. He had waited long enough. Seven years was respectable in his eyes, though he could’ve made a move at year one if he wanted to. But he’d known it was wrong. Her emotions were still too raw. Too fresh. He fought it for as long as he could. But one day he just couldn’t take it anymore. Their first kiss had happened unexpectedly after a somewhat casual dinner date. He’d walked her to her door like he always did and tried to ignore the stirring in his pants as she hugged him goodbye, her large breasts pressing against his chest, her body feeling soft and tempt
ing beneath his arms.

  Before he could stop himself, he’d said “God help me” out loud. When she pulled back to look at him in question, that’s when he went in for the kill. Once he tasted her, he instantly became addicted. He couldn’t have stopped it if he wanted to. He was surprised she had been as receptive and giving as she was. Her lips had softened under his and her body had willingly arched to his as she kissed him back desperately with unshakeable passion.

  It was at that moment that he knew. He knew why he’d never fallen for another girl. Why kissing other women never pleased him. Why when he was on top of them, no matter how beautiful they were, he couldn’t help picturing Serenity’s face. It was always her. It always came back to her.

  Nyle felt his dick straining against his pants now as he thought about that first kiss. Two years later and he still had the same reaction each time she kissed him. Kissing her never got old. Touching her never got old. Putting his mouth on her, sucking her breasts, stroking her pussy with his fingers, kissing her all over her body… He was addicted to her cries of pleasure, her breathing; the way she ran her fingers through his hair and pulled hard right before she came. God knows she was insatiable when it came to pleasing him.

  They hadn’t made love yet. Serenity had said she wanted to wait until they were married and while it had been hard, he’d accepted the challenge and remained noble. And faithful. He had fought tooth and nail for this woman, and he wasn’t about to lose her over some bullshit. Tristan had had his chance. And he’d blown it. That ship had sailed. It was Nyle’s turn now. And he wasn’t turning the other cheek.

  The only thing he could do was hope Tristan didn’t come to the wedding; that he didn’t track her down and try to explain to her what had happened. If Serenity ever found out the truth it would not only destroy her, it would destroy what she and Nyle had. He could lose her. He couldn’t let that happen under any circumstances.

  “Nyle,” Dennis spoke, interrupting his thoughts again.

  Nyle wiped a tear from his eye and walked back over to the bar, pouring himself another helping of whiskey from his crystal monogrammed decanter, a gift from his groomsmen. “What?”

  “Does she know what really happened the night he left? What went down between you guys? Does she have any idea?”

  Nyle swallowed the bitter liquid and gritted his teeth. “No.” He sharply looked over his shoulder at Dennis, his cobalt blue eyes flashing defiantly as he fixed him with an intimidating glare. “And I’m going to make sure it stays that way.”

  SERENITY

  It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re doing the right thing. You love Nyle. You. Love. Nyle.

  Serenity kept repeating that rehearsed line in her head several times, as she made her way down the long narrow hallway that led to the sanctuary of the church. Her footsteps echoed on the polished hardwood floor as she walked on shaky legs at a slow, snail’s pace. She wished she could blame it on the high heels she was wearing but the shoes were not to blame. She was due to get married in less than five minutes, but she was selfishly in no rush. She needed the time to herself to think, to ponder. She was alone. Her bridal party had already gone in and there was no one to walk her down the aisle. She had no siblings; her father had passed away when she was a young girl and she wasn’t close to her mother. After Tristan left her, her mother refused to have anything to do with her. He’d always helped her take care of her mother and Nyle refused to do so. She didn’t blame him. Her mother was a leach and was in and out of rehab with a heroin addiction.

  She’d had little to no contact with her mother since Tristan left and while it was painful, it was okay with her. Her mother was full of drama and had contributed to many years of unnecessary and unforgivable pain for Serenity and she was in a happier place in her life now. She didn’t want her mother ruining her newfound happiness. Besides, she got tired of her mother asking when Tristan was coming back. If she knew he was back now…

  Serenity gulped and swallowed hard, ignoring the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. There was no one with her to talk her in or out of what she was doing. She tried to be calm. She tried reasoning with herself. She even tried humming one of her favorite love songs. Nothing was helping. The soft, melodic strains of a Lionel Richie love song was playing over the speakers of the church. The instrumental music eerily echoed throughout the hallway, making her even more anxious and nervous. It was one of Nyle’s favorite songs. It was also a song she and Tristan had made love to on more than once occasion. Nyle didn’t know that, of course. Listening to it now, she couldn’t help but think of Tristan. Of the two of them. Memories flooded her mind, teasing and taunting her like a schoolyard bully. She willed them to go away. They wouldn’t.

  Don’t let him come. Please God don’t let him show up… I don’t want to see him…

  Her steps slowed and her pulse kicked up several notches as the crescendo of the song played. Don’t know how their bodies timed it but that moment in the song was usually when she and Tristan would orgasm at the same time. Their bodies were as in sync with the timeless music as their souls were with their lovemaking.

  I want to see him… I need to see him… Why is this happening now? Why?

  Serenity tugged and tugged at her dress and fussed with her veil. Everything was too tight. Too damn tight. It was constricting. It was hard to breathe. The sanctuary felt like it was two miles away. What was taking her so damn long to get there? She needed to see Nyle. She needed to see him quickly. She needed to see him so she could remind herself… So she could forget…

  Serenity looked around the church as she steadily inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm her nerves. Everything was beautiful. The church was decorated so nice. Nyle had hired one of the top wedding planners in the business and every detail had gone off without a hitch from the flowers down to the fancy, expensive china on the tables in the reception hall. He had spared no expense. Her wedding day was everything she had ever wanted it to be. Even the weather was cooperating with their happy day. It was sunny, breezy, and bright outside. The church was filled to capacity with his family, their mutual friends, and well-wishers. She couldn’t have asked for a better day to get married or a better man to marry. If she could just find it in her heart to forget the news she had learned about this morning…

  You still love Tristan. You don’t love Nyle. It isn’t right to use him like this. You shouldn’t be doing this.

  “Shut up!” she yelled out loud. “Shut up! Yes I do!”

  Her inner thoughts were driving her mad. They just wouldn’t stop. If anyone within walking distance had seen her or heard her talking to herself they would’ve thought she was insane. Perhaps she was. Nothing had been right or felt right since Tristan’s mother Katherine had called her that morning and spoke those ominous words…

  “I think he knows…”

  Katherine said she couldn’t get him on the phone; that he wasn’t answering her phone calls. He always catered to his mother whenever she needed him and would cut off his right arm before he ignored any of her calls so Serenity knew Katherine must be right. What he planned to do with the information he happened upon was anyone’s guess. She only prayed to God he’d stay away as he had done for the past seven years. He just needed to let them live freely. Be happy. After all, he’d left. He had no rights over her anymore. He’d given up that right. Now, she belonged to Nyle. And as much as her heart kept trying to tap dance its way back to her conflicted but adrenaline-fueled past, she refused to let it have its way.

  She wasn’t a young girl anymore. She was a woman. And she had sense.

  “There you are!” her wedding coordinator Marilyn screeched, running up to her out of nowhere. Her wild red hair was all over her head and her pale cheeks were a deep sanguine, almost matching the color of her hair. She was panting and sweating, and her heavy bosom rose with each breath. The woman was more than a little out of shape and Serenity couldn’t help hoping chasing after her hadn’t raised the poor woman’s blood
pressure.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” the Marilyn loudly continued, her thick Italian accent high-lighted by her stress.

  “I was trying to find the sanctuary,” Serenity breathlessly replied, her memories still dancing around in her head like ballerinas on a sugar high.

  “It’s on the other side of the building!” Marilyn gave her a stranger look. “You just had your rehearsal in there last night. How did you forget where it is?”

  Serenity knew the answer to that question but played coy with herself to admit it. Mind and heart were always at war about something.

  “Come on, we need to move!” The coordinator grabbed her arm and all but dragged her in the opposite direction, practically breaking out into a sprint in her six-inch heels.

  Serenity struggled to stay upright and keep up with her.

  “Everyone has been in place for ten minutes,” Marilyn fussed at her. “Nyle was starting to freak out.”

  Poor Nyle. Loving, trusting, faithful Nyle.

  “I-m-I’m sorry,” Serenity stammered. “My nerves must’ve made me forget.”