by Cole, Fiona
It’d taken a while, but we’d eventually found a relationship that worked for all of us.
“How was your date?” Jackson asked.
Carina scoffed with an eye roll. “Gross. He talked about the company and asked about our profit margin. That’s what I get for agreeing to a date that was arranged by my father and his friends.”
Jackson winced and pulled her in for another hug. “Hang in there. Maybe I can get you another night at Voyeur.”
“Yes, please.”
The front door opened again and a tall man, who eerily resembled Clark Kent, came strolling in with a petite girl on his arm.
“Oaklyn,” Jackson shouted, crossing the room with his arms wide. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”
“I wouldn’t miss your domestication for the world.”
Oaklyn had worked at Voyeur with Jackson and I’d had to work through some minor jealousy knowing they’d been intimate.
“That’s enough hugging, Jackson,” Callum said, frowning over Oaklyn’s shoulder.
Oaklyn turned around and slapped Callum’s chest, laughing at him. “Calm down, tiger. You know I’m all yours.” She turned back around and gave me a tight hug. “Hey, stranger.”
“I’m not that much of a stranger,” I defended. She cocked an eyebrow, and I shrugged with a laugh. Jerking my head toward the group, I said, “Come on. Let me introduce you to everyone.”
“Oaklyn!” Andrew shouted from his chair, accepting her kiss on his cheek.
She made her rounds, hugging who she knew and smiling with a hello to those she was just meeting.
“And this is Carina, my ex-fiancée.”
Oaklyn froze for a moment, looking at me and then Jackson with a question in her eyes.
“Don’t give me that look,” Jackson reprimanded with a smile. “You’re fucking your professor.”
Callum choked on the beer he was drinking, and Oaklyn narrowed her eyes on Jackson. I struggled to hold back my laugh behind pursed lips. When Carina and I made eye-contact, her hand trying to hide her own smile, we both failed, and our laughs broke free.
“He’s not my professor anymore.”
Jackson shrugged and smiled before finishing the last of his beer.
“Okay, chatterboxes, dinner is ready,” my mom said from the doorway, halting more conversation about our unconventional relationships. “It’s buffet style, so help yourself.”
A hot-flash of nerves washed over my body. My palms grew damp, and I had to close my eyes and focus on breathing in and out.
“Hey? Are you okay?” Two hands came up to frame my face and I opened my eyes to meet his. I lost myself in the warm, melted-chocolate color, feeling calm replace my erratic heartbeat. I loved this man.
“I love you,” I whispered, his smile shining down on me. I stepped back. Holding his gaze, I shouted over everyone’s shuffling feet. “Before you scarf down all our food, can I have your attention?”
They stopped and turned back to the living room, where Jackson and I stood in the middle. His head tipped to the side and a sexy crease formed between his brows, and I had to fight to keep from kissing it away. I needed to focus.
“Jackson Fields,” I began, my voice trembling. “You have been the best thing in my life that I never saw coming. I fought you, scared of what it all meant. But you’ve held me through it all. You’ve never doubted who I was even when I doubted what kind of man I was anymore. You’re smart, caring, hardworking, and a million other things. You’re everything I never knew I wanted. You’re my home, my future, my love.”
His eyes were wet, like mine, by the time I’d finished my speech. His hands clasped mine tightly and were just as sweaty. A moment of silence stretched between us, the room so silent you could hear a pin drop. I let it go a little longer, waiting for him to give me a sign to stop, that he didn’t want this. But it never came. Instead, he gave a jerky nod just for me, pushing to continue.
With a heavy swallow, I let go of his hand, grabbed the platinum band from my pocket and fell to one knee. “Marry me, Jackson Fields.”
A single tear slipped free, but he ignored it. He gripped the collar of my shirt and yanked me hard to him, locking his lips to mine, not even pulling away to keep muttering ‘yes’ over and over. Applause broke out, and I turned to our audience with a smile, shaking my head at my mom crying, probably already thinking of wedding plans.
Sharp teeth bit my ear, before soft lips pressed to the shell and whispered, “Just because you asked me, doesn’t mean I’m the woman here.”
I gave him a cocky smirk. “You sure about that?”
“You’re not going to be so confident when you have my cock buried in your ass tonight and you’re begging me to let you come.”
My dick twitched, and I barely held back the growl of desire vibrating my chest. “It’d be rude to ask them to leave, right?”
He laughed. “Come on, Wellington. You can handle a little torture. I promise to make it worth your wait.”
“Everything with us has been worth the wait.” He smiled and went to walk toward the table everyone was piling in at, but I gripped his hand and pulled him back. “But I can’t wait for this. Truth or dare?”
“Dare.” His tongue slicked across his lips, almost breaking my concentration on the task of getting him alone.
I didn’t issue him a dare verbally. Instead, I began walking backward down the hall, taking him with me.
“They’ll know,” he warned.
“Don’t care. Besides, I’ll be quiet.”
Jackson smirked. The same sexy smirk I’d known since college. The same smirk that had stuck with me, even as I tried to forget it. But that was the thing with Jackson and me; there was nothing forgettable about our love.
“Challenge accepted.”
The End
Want to learn more about Oaklyn and Callum?
You can read their story in Voyeur.
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Acknowledgments
First and foremost always goes to my husband and my kids. The past six months have been crazy and yet you all understood and helped me find time to write this story. I couldn’t do it without you. I love you.
Karla Sorenson: #DreamTeam strikes again. Thank you for always making time for me. Even between flu, pneumonia, back to school, and your own books.
Serena: You are my voice of angst and all the extra dirtiness. I couldn’t ask for anyone better and your suggestions give me confidence in this book.
Michelle: Goodness! You are one of the most supportive people I know and I’m so lucky to have found you. Waking up to your messages is probably one of my favorite parts of this whole process. Thank you for always boosting me up.
To my amazing beta readers: Julia, your picky comments make this book strong. Thank you! Tijuana, thank you for taking a chance on this book and encouraging the DP scene. Monica, let’s be honest, this book is because of you. Once upon a time, you messaged me saying I should write a MM book. And that was how Jackson was born. Thank you for all your suggestions.
Virginia: Thank you for holding my hand and working with me through my chaotic schedule. You were a phenomenal editor and I don’t have words to let you know how much I appreciate each and every time you read through this book.
To my proofreaders: Kelly, Michelle, Christine, and Rachel. You ladies cleaned this book up perfectly! Thank you for all your amazing work.
Lori Jackson: This cover is so beautiful. Thank you for taking the time to show me all the options and helping me through the process until
it was just right.
Linda: Linda, Linda, Linda. I honestly don’t know what I would do without you. You help me focus my priorities during release. You guide me and show me how we can make it work when I’m pretty sure I’m screwed. You’re a blessing I’m grateful every day for having lured into my life! Let’s get together soon and have mimosas.
Willow Winters and all the other amazing authors in this Cards of Love Series. Thank you all for letting me be a part of this. It’s been such a fun project and I can’t wait to read all your stories.
To bloggers: Ya’ll are everything and I love interacting with you. I love the creative ways you entice me to spend my money. Haha. You’re all amazing and I wouldn’t even be a blip on the radar without your help.
To all the readers. You are my people. You are my tribe. I found a place of acceptance I never thought I’d find and I can’t thank you enough for giving that to me. Thank you for taking a chance on my books. Even if you hated it, thank you for risking your time.
To the authors in this community. You inspire me every day. Thank you.
Voyeur
A Student-Teacher Romance
Chapter One
Oaklyn
“What do you mean the money’s gone?”
“I’m so sorry, honey. The water heater broke, and we thought we were okay, but then the car broke down. Our savings were empty, and the car couldn’t be fixed, so we had to get a new one or your dad couldn’t get to work. Then rent came up and the check … was just there.”
My hand squeezed the phone, I now couldn’t afford, as I tried to control my anger and panic. “Mom, that’s my tuition money I was supposed to live off of.”
I couldn’t believe the check was sent to the wrong address. I updated the address as soon as I moved into my tiny studio apartment. Yet, somehow, it was sent to my parents in Florida. My mind raced with regrets and cursed my bad luck. I’d just been there last week for Thanksgiving. Why couldn’t it have been delivered then? Why couldn’t they have sent it to me without opening it?
What the hell was I going to do?
“I’m so sorry, honey. We panicked and made the wrong decision. We—we can sell the car. We’ll figure it out.”
Inside I screamed “Yes!” But I knew I couldn’t make them do it. How would they survive if my dad couldn’t get to work? And while college was my dream, I’d still survive without it. I should’ve been mad, and I was, but I couldn’t take it out on them. I’d done nothing but watch my parents struggle from one paycheck to another, and I knew if I asked, she would’ve sold the car back. Only god knows what would happen then, and I wasn’t willing to take that chance.
“No, Mom. Don’t do that.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I said, sagging against the wall of my friend’s dorm. I’d stepped outside to take the call, but on the brink of tears, I wish I’d have stayed inside where no one could see me crumble.
“Can you get another loan?” my mom suggested, her voice filled with hope.
Nothing could stop the laugh I choked out. Another loan? I’d applied for every scholarship, grant, and loan to get to school. I’d busted my ass in high school in hope of scholarships flooding my bank account. And they did, but it hadn’t been enough. I’d also taken any of the loans offered to me through FAFSA.
You didn’t have to go out of state, my subconscious whispered. Well, it was too damn late now. I’d wanted to get away, leave the rut I’d been stuck in at home, and I’d found the means to do it. Too bad those means were gone now. All ten thousand dollars of it. Eight thousand to pay for my last semester—damn out of state fees—and another two thousand to live on until the end of summer.
“No, Mom.”
“I’m so sorry, baby.”.
I knew she was—I could hear it in the crack in her voice, but I just couldn’t give her the forgiveness she needed in that moment. My dream was crumbling before me, and I couldn’t focus on anything else. With tears clogging my throat, I got off the phone and went to hide in my friend’s dorm.
“How’s mommy and daddy,” Olivia joked when I walked through the door. But as soon as she looked at the defeat on my face, hers morphed into one of concern. She jumped up and rushed to me. “What happened? Did someone die? Is everyone okay?”
Her arms wrapped around me, and I dropped my head to her shoulder, letting the tears fall. “They . . . ” I sniffed and tried to work past the tears. “They spent my tuition money.”
“What?”
I couldn’t say it again, so I simply nodded.
“Fuck, Oak. That’s . . . Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
She didn’t say anything else, just led me to her twin-size bed and held me as I let it all out.
I hated being overly emotional. I tried to be efficient with my feelings and sitting there crying wasn’t going to get me anywhere. Sitting up, I wiped my cheeks and took a few deep breaths.
Olivia got me a water from her mini fridge and leaned back against the wall.
“You could always sleep here. I’m sure we could get away with it.”
I seriously considered saying yes. My fingers tapped the pink bed sheets, looking at the minimal floor space and remembering her other roommate. She probably wouldn’t love the idea of another body taking up space.
“God, Olivia,” I said, falling back on her pillows. “Why didn’t you accept the penthouse suite when you first started college?”
Her laugh was easy and just as bubbly as she was. “I know, I’m such a bitch.”
Olivia came from a rich family who wanted to put her in a penthouse apartment off campus. All she wanted was a dorm room, so she could really experience college life. Her father begrudgingly accepted as long as he was able to hire a driver for her.
All I wanted was a dorm room but couldn’t afford the added cost above my tuition. So, I was stuck in an apartment off campus. It was no penthouse, that was for sure. It was barely an apartment. More like a shoebox. I had a semi-decent car to get me from point A to B, and a bus stop close by in case it went from semi-decent to broken down. I’d made it work. Maybe I could look into selling the car for some extra cash.
“So, what are you going to do?”
“That’s the million-dollar question. I’ll start by looking for a job, even though most are taken by all the holiday workers.”
“But you already do student work at the Biology Department. When will you have time to work another job and still be able to study?”
“Sleep is overrated.” I succeeded in making her snort since we both loved sleep dearly. “I can always sell my plasma . . . maybe my eggs.”
“I will kidnap you before you sell your precious possible babies.”
“Aw, thanks Liv. You’re a true friend.”
She blew me a kiss and put on a movie for distraction. At least an attempt at a distraction. But even as we laughed and ate popcorn, my mind was swirling with possible places to apply for work. I’d start looking for any job possible as soon as I leave the dorm. I joked about losing sleep, but I’d sacrifice a lot more than that to stay in college.
* * *
A week later and I still hadn’t found another job. Every possible position that may have been open was snatched up by the seasonal workers. It was three weeks before Christmas, and if one more person told me I should have applied before Thanksgiving, I’d scream.
“I have an appointment at the Bursar’s Office tomorrow to beg for some kind of help to come up with a solution,” I explained to Olivia over lunch. “In the morning, I’m going to run by the bank and see if I can take out another loan.”
“You know, I could talk to my da—” Olivia started, but I cut her off.
“No. I will not take money from you.”
“It’s a loan. And you wouldn’t have to pay interest.”
I was already shaking my head before she finished. We’d had this conversation before, and I was adamant about not entering into a financial relationship w
ith her. I’d seen my parents borrow money from a friend, and it tore their relationship apart. They lorded the loan over them, and took advantage just because my parents had owed them money. When they finally paid it all back, the friendship had been too damaged to repair. Nothing good ever benefitted a relationship when the exchange of money occurred.
I couldn’t have that happen between me and Olivia. She was too important to lose. “It’s bad enough I let you buy me lunch today.”
We sat at the corner table at the school’s largest dining hall. I was content to eat another pack of ramen, but she’d dragged me here and bought my entry before I could say otherwise.
“Just eat your damn food. You know it’s good,” she grumbled.
I took a bite and stared at her, but she was looking down, her long blonde hair hanging like a curtain around her, hiding from me. When she finally looked up, she looked nervous. Her lips were pinched and her eyes wide.
Alarm bells went off in my head. “What?”
She set her silverware down and sat up straighter, as if she were preparing for battle. “Listen,” she started. “I have an idea. It’s really good money, but you have to have a waaaay open mind about it.”
“Okaaay?” I dragged the word out, trying to prepare myself. “You know I’m desperate and will do just about anything.”
Her tongue slicked across her pink glossed lips and she swallowed. What the hell was it?
“My uncle—kind of the rogue agent of the family—owns a club.”
I dropped my fork and sat up straight, trying to think of a club that wasn’t a strip club. “What kind of club?”
