by J. M. Adele
She tried to catch her breath, falling limp and unclenching her jaw. Her eyes opened to find Aiden’s triumphant grin.
“Wow. I made you come.”
“Come?”
“You know. Orgasm.”
“Yeah. You did.” She patted a hand over his heart, feeling cheated that she’d never get to experience that with him again.
“I want to do that again.”
“I want to give you the same.”
His hips bucked forward so his erection slid through her folds, drawing out a shudder from her still sensitive body. Her eyes rolled back before her lids sank down. She hooked her leg a bit higher and wrapped an arm around his back, reveling in the rasp of her nipples against his chest.
“I want to be inside you.”
“Yes. Please.”
“Yes?”
“Mm hm.” She nodded, watching his expression flare with heat.
Her body roared to life with the thundering in her veins, anticipation tightening every muscle. He pushed up on one arm, and gave her hip a nudge to lie flat. She positioned herself, making room for him between her legs. Reaching for him, she dragged her hands down his back as he pressed his weight down, lining himself up with her entrance. He pushed down, fumbling to get the angle right as he figured out her body. She arched her back to help him out.
Angel willed herself to relax, and tried to even out her breathing. But, she remembered some overheard conversation in the girl’s restroom, about how it would hurt the first time, and her lungs wouldn’t obey. They pumped air like a bellows.
His hardness stretched her tender tissue and she tilted her chin up, fixing her eyes on the pleasure playing across Aiden’s features to forget her discomfort. She wanted this with him. Wanted to be his, always.
Aiden’s pupils threatened to engulf the whiskey color of his eyes, and his lips parted on a moan. She hooked her legs around his waist, and her belly turned liquid as he pushed further.
Feeling the pinch inside her, she dug her fingers into his back with a gasp, and pushed her face into his shoulder.
Aiden froze. “Are you okay?”
She bobbed her head, keeping her face firmly planted in his skin so she could take in his smell, and hide her reaction. “Mm. Just give me a second.”
He started to pull back, but she locked her ankles, making him stay put.
“You’re not okay.”
“I will be. Please don’t stop. I want to give you this.”
“Okay.” He didn’t sound so sure.
His hand came up to stroke her hair and she felt the press of his lips on the crown of her head. On a long exhale, Angel rested back on the cushion and pulled back her nails, stroking his back to soothe both their pain. Leaning on an elbow, Aiden smiled down at her and feathered kisses over her face. His hand roamed up and down her body, lingering over her breasts and hips, stoking the flame of desire back to life.
She moaned and squeezed her legs, lifting her hips to get closer. The pain receded to a dull throb that whispered of pleasure. Aiden inched forward, obviously still unsure, but maybe needing to be closer, too.
The slide of his flesh against her inner walls was so new and overwhelming, and yet so addictive it had her panting for more. Their hips bucked and slapped together, gaining momentum quickly, as another wave of sensation slowly built.
She whimpered as the rhythm of Aiden’s movements quickened, and his face twisted in exquisite agony. He jerked one last time, arching his back with one long, low groan, before he collapsed on top of her. His pulsing shaft tugged at her core, bringing her down before she fell off the ledge. She didn’t care. Angel wrapped her limbs around him to enjoy their connection for as long as she could. Being able to bring him pleasure was the greatest high.
He lifted his head. “Sorry, I couldn’t hold off any longer. You felt too good.”
“So did you.”
“Am I squashing you?”
She pulled him closer. “No. I like feeling your weight on me.”
A dazzling smile cracked his face wide open, before he pressed his lips to hers, tasting the truth of her words.
“I love you. So much.”
He didn’t have to say it. She felt it deep in her soul, but it was nice to hear it anyways.
“I love you, too. Have since the beginning.”
“Since the beginning.” He nodded and sat up. “Let’s get cleaned up and fold out the bed. We need to rest if we’re gonna get up before the sun.”
She didn’t think they’d make it that far, but she wanted to enjoy sleeping, snuggled in his arms, just this once. If that was all she was going to get, she’d take it. She wasn’t going to think about the future, because if she did, she’d crumble into a million pieces.
Now, she had some clue to the depths of pain her father had suffered when her mama passed away. She couldn’t believe it was happening to her at the age of sixteen.
How would she live without him?
Pounding. There was a pounding in her head.
Cool air rushed over her body as the warm blanket of Aiden’s body left, as he bolted off the mattress. She shook her head and swung her legs to the side to sit up.
“Hold your dang horses, Thomas. Move outta the way so I can unlock the door before ya break it.”
That’s Mr. Saunders. Well, shit.
She aimed her fuzzy vision on the glowing hands of the clock above the table. 2:15 a.m., or close enough. Aiden faced the door, his body grim and stretched taut like the zombie apocalypse waited on the other side. In reality, what they were about to face was just as scary.
The door sprang open, dang near ripped off its hinges, as Aiden’s father hurled himself into the room.
Raising an accusing finger, his fierce eyes shot daggers at Aiden. “Boy, you won’t be able to breathe by the time I’m done with you. I hope you enjoyed your fun. Party’s over, you’re coming with me.”
“No,” Aiden gritted out.
Watching the face off through a deluge of tears, Angel sucked cool air between her teeth and gripped the edge of the bed to control her trembling. This was really happening. Now, she wanted to pinch herself awake. Her worst nightmare was happening before her eyes.
Mr. Thomas coughed out a humorless laugh. “I could have sworn you just disobeyed me, but my boy knows not to do that, or I’ll beat the ever-loving shit out of him.” He took a menacing step forward. “Why don’t you try that again?”
“Brent. Back off. They’re just kids.”
Angel hugged herself at the sound of her daddy’s voice. Leaning forward, she saw the glow of his blue eyes in the shadows of the stairwell. She knew he wasn’t happy at finding them there, but concern seemed to outweigh the anger in his features.
“Stay out of this, Murphy. If it wasn’t for your little whore, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“She’s not a whore!” Aiden spat at his father.
Her daddy’s heavy boot thumped on the shag pile as his rage spilled into the room. “How dare you. I understand you’re mad, but watch your mouth, or I’ll rearrange it for you.”
“And I’ll have you up on assault charges quicker than you can blink.”
Two fists furled at her daddy’s sides just waiting to hit their target. “You’re a maggot. Praise the Lord that you’re leaving town. You should leave Aiden here. This is where he belongs. He sure as hell doesn’t belong with you.”
“He’s my son! Mine. He’ll follow in my footsteps, not some grease monkey’s. You’re not taking him from me.” Mr. Thomas rounded on Aiden, locking a hand around his bicep. “Come. Now.”
“No. I’m not going.”
She sat, a frozen block of ice, watching Aiden fight a tug of war between his heart and his duty. He seemed so much like the five-year-old boy she’d coaxed out of hiding on the day they met. Her heart wanted to break out of her chest and beat at his feet, so that he knew it would always be his.
“The hell you’re not.”
Mr. Thomas heaved his son’s
weight forward and Aiden fell to his knees. His head whirled around, his terrified gaze seeking hers.
“No!” She lunged forward, clinging on to him with all her strength. Her neck wrenched back as her hair was caught in the brute’s grip.
The heavy smack of her daddy’s fist hitting Mr. Thomas’ jaw vibrated all the way down through her scalp before he let go of her.
“Angel.” Aiden steadied her in his embrace while he watched his father hit the carpet.
“I’m okay.” She gripped his shoulders, sobbing, knowing their efforts were futile. “I love you. Please never forget that.”
His hair fell over his eyes, as he shook his head like he was trying to wake from a nightmare. “I won’t. I love you more than life.”
Mr. Thomas pushed to his feet, rubbing his jaw. He aimed a glare at her daddy, his face feral as he spat blood at his feet.
“Angel. Come on lass. Let him go now.” Her daddy moved to shield her from further harm. “Lay a hand on my daughter again and I’ll have you arrested.”
“I’ve already called the sheriff.” Mr. Saunders stood back in the kitchen watching her life fall to pieces.
She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to let go, but knew it was hopeless to hold on. She was only making things worse.
“Come on lass. I won’t have you getting hurt.”
“He’s right, Angel.” Aiden coaxed her back. “I’ll be okay.”
“I don’t believe you.” Bunching her T-shirt in her fists between her breasts, she prayed for the muscle beneath to hold together.
“Aargh, enough! We’re done here.”
Yanked to his feet, Aiden stumbled after his father, who stomped and cursed a path to the door. Aiden didn’t take his eyes off her, locking a white-knuckled hand on the door frame to allow him one last silent goodbye, before his father pulled him out of sight. The last she heard was his hoarse cry and a thumping against the walls of the stairwell. That evil brute was hurting him.
She crushed the shirt beneath her hands, half expecting blood to start pouring between her fingers, from the gaping wound in her chest. Her shoulders heaved as she struggled for air, legs prickling with pins and needles where they lay folded under her weight.
Her daddy’s strong arms wrapped her up in an embrace meant to be comforting, but not even he would be able to hold her together. He’d mended so many hurts with his hugs. They were magic. Even her mama’s death had been made a tiny bit easier to endure within the envelope of her daddy’s arms. She feared nothing would be able to put her back together after this. Nothing but Aiden walking back through that door. Or maybe waking up to find herself back on that hideous orange sofa bed, lying in Aiden’s arms after they’d made love.
“Here are the keys. Take your time. I’ll deal with the sheriff. Sorry, Angel.” The door clicked shut as Mr. Saunders left.
“Angel. Sweetheart. Let’s go home. We’ll get him back. I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes to get our boy back.”
“How, Daddy?”
“Whatever it takes, lass.”
She blinked at him, her vision blurring behind a cascade of tears and bursts of white. She thought his mouth moved, but the message was drowned out by the ringing in her ears.
This can’t be real. This can’t be real.
The room tilted as her daddy hefted her into his arms, her head lolling on her shoulders. A hint of red reminded her that the apple keyring still sat innocently in the kitchen, taunting her of dreams unfulfilled. The ruse of the promise of Eden … before being cast out.
This morning she’d woken up a girl in love, and now she was a shattered woman.
Whatever it takes, lass.
She could only hope.
I’m going to start by saying how incredibly blessed I feel at being able to share my stories with the world, and to have the support of all the people who help make this happen.
This novella was originally written for the New Love anthology to benefit the March of Dimes Foundation. As soon as I heard about it, I knew I had to be a part of it. I want to thank all the people who bought the anthology and helped make a difference in so many lives.
Sincere thanks need to go to Nicole Moore and the Love Kissed family for their vision and all the hard work they put into making things like this happen. It’s mind blowing what the team manages to achieve.
My editor, Eeva, I thank you again for sneaking this one into your schedule. I’m glad you hated the ending, that means it was perfect. ; P
Lorna and Emma—beta readers extraordinaire … you ladies rock. I can’t thank you enough for your insight, and for taking the time to read the horrible unedited version! You know I hate commas.
To my wonderful group of friends … apologies. Again. You know I have hermit tendencies. I live in my head half the time, and I want to thank you for coaxing me back among the living, breathing, real people. You are all so important to me, I don’t know what I’d do without you. Lots of love comin’ atcha.
My house full of boisterous boys … You’re my little miracles. I didn’t know if I could have you at all, and yet here you are. I love your quirky senses of humor and your never-ending energy. You have presented me with my biggest challenge and my greatest reward, all in one crazy ADHD/ ASD/ Syndrome bundle. I wouldn’t change a thing. I love you to bits. Thank you, my family, for all your love and support.
I’ve met some wonderful readers and writers online and in person over the last couple of years. The book community is a fantastic bunch of people and I’m proud to be a part of it. Sincere thanks to all the bloggers who are such a huge part of this group and work so tirelessly with little reward. Thank you all for being awesome. I hope to meet you in person in the years to come.
To all the readers who’ve taken the time to escape into my stories, a massive, ginormous thank you. You are the reason I hit publish and don’t let the pages collect dust in a drawer. It’s all for you, guys! I wholeheartedly hope you have enjoyed Angel and Aiden’s beginning, and that you will continue reading their next chapter.
Cheers!
Jen x
Chapter One
Self-hatred was the purest thing Aiden Thomas had felt in years. He stood in the bathroom of his hotel room, harsh, fluorescent light casting unforgiving shadows over the angles of his face. His shoulders wrenched up and down as each breath grew harder to drag in. The face reflected in the mirror twisted with shame and a fierce disgust. Black eyes bored into the mirror and back again in an infinite battle of wills and intimidation.
The news he’d discovered ten minutes ago was the baseball bat to the head he needed. A wakeup call after more than a decade of numb oblivion, isolation and ignorance. Aiden had let everyone down, including himself. He’d never see Hank Murphy again because he’d been behaving like a chicken shit, little boy. His teeth made a horrible grinding sound as he clenched his jaw.
The urge to destroy proved irresistible. He pounded his fist into the grim reflection, the shattering of the glass deafening in the small space. A satisfied smile crossed his face as he inspected his shredded knuckles. Aiden flexed his hand watching red spill down between his fingers, coloring the shards in the sink. It hurt like a bitch, and it felt fucking awesome.
The pussy in the mirror was gone. Aiden Thomas was awake and determined to make things right.
_____
Almost a day later, he stood deliberately separate from a huddle of black sorrow, listening to the somber tones of a man of God eulogizing and offering prayer. A summary of the life of a man who meant so much to him, the one a young Aiden wished had been his real father.
The intermittent breeze carried away the murmurings of the minister, stirring the rich smell of freshly dug soil mixed with the more delicate scent of the floral adornment on the coffin. He sucked in the smells and the moisture in the southern air, grateful for some relief from the heaviness of his guilt. Beneath a makeshift bandage, his throbbing hand reminded him of the task ahead.
Aiden surveyed the crowd, reco
gnizing most of his fellow mourners, although they were much older now. As a boy, he’d thought of them as his family until his father had disabused him of the notion, called him a foolish leech, and taught him that the only person he could truly rely on was himself.
He belonged to nobody.
All utter bullshit. He had belonged to Hank, his true father in every way that counted. He knew that now. Now that it was too late.
Jesus, Hank. I’m so sorry.
He set his jaw to prevent an agonized shout from escaping, as his eyes locked on the coffin. He turned away, tilting his head side to side to loosen his neck. The pain from flexing his fingers allowed him to center his torment as far away from his heart as he could get it. It was welcome relief, however brief.
Aiden absorbed the poignant words, and surveyed the gathering once again. A petite woman across from him drew his eyes. The only points of color were her red lips, and the green leaves and stem of a white rose visible through a curtain of raven hair. Each tear caught on the corner of her mouth before it trickled down her chin and fell to the earth. Her gloved hands clasped those of a fellow mourner’s, obviously her close friend. They presented a striking contrast, a dark crown beside platinum blonde. The women rocked slightly side-to-side, alternating between supporters and supported.
Something about the ebony-haired beauty pinched at his distant memories, imploring him to remember a familiarity long forgotten. Aiden’s feet wanted to move of their own accord, to circle the huddle to get to her with some amount of stealth. He locked his knees refusing to bow to their demand, dropping his gaze to take in the grass beneath his feet. That’d be a good start. Embarrassing himself the first time he’d seen these people in fifteen years, and at the funeral of one of the town’s most loved. His shoulders dropped as he pushed a long breath out, before raising his eyes once more.
