by Jessie Evans
“They said you wouldn’t yell at me because I’m new,” Kelly said, pitch rising slightly when she added, “They were right, weren’t they? I’m not in trouble?”
“You’re not in trouble,” Nash said, scooting his chair back. “But tell them I’ll be back Monday morning, and—grouchy or not—I’ll be staying the entire day. And if I find out anyone else left early today, heads will roll, got that?”
“Yes, sir,” Kelly said, practically tripping in her haste to leave his office. “Have a good weekend, sir.”
Nash didn’t reply. There was only one way he was going to have a good weekend, and that all depended on what happened after five o’clock today.
He knew Aria had an event until four and probably wouldn’t be back at the house until four-thirty, so he killed some time swinging by the flower shop. He planned to pick up the same flowers he’d bought Aria for their wedding, but the shop was out of calla lilies. The prettiest flowers left were the roses, but red roses seemed cheesy and impersonal for some reason. He almost went with the white roses, but they reminded him of his grandmother’s funeral, so he grabbed a dozen of the yellow instead, and headed for home.
He was still early, but that would give him time to get the roses in a vase, get out of his holster, and clean up a little before Aria got home.
He pulled into the driveway and headed for the door, so sure the house would still be empty that he didn’t bother ringing the doorbell. When the door slammed shut behind him and Aria screamed, he was so startled he almost dropped the roses and went for his gun.
“Nash?” Aria cried out.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Nash said, heart still racing.
“Oh my god, you scared the crap out of me!” Aria called from the kitchen with a nervous laugh. “We got out early, but I didn’t expect you for a half hour!”
“Obviously,” Nash mumbled, laughing as he caught his breath and started toward the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be back until…”
He turned the corner and his words died in his mouth, shriveling up and floating away, leaving Nash with no clue what he’d been planning to say. It was impossible to hold onto language with Aria looking like that.
“You like?” she asked with a wicked grin as she propped one hand on her hip, emphasizing her curves. Her barely covered curves.
Nash nodded as his eyes flicked up and down Aria’s body, from her wild hair loose around her shoulders, to the white corset pushing her breasts up into mounds that practically begged to be kissed, to the lace panties and garters that held up tan stockings that stretched down her long, long legs before disappearing into red stiletto heels.
“I was going for wedding night take two, but I couldn’t find any white shoes,” she said, lifting one leg and twirling an ankle.
The red shoe circled in the air; Nash’s mouth went dry.
“I like the red,” he said.
He really liked the red, so much he was already having lurid thoughts about Aria wearing those shoes and nothing else.
“I heard that,” she said, turning to walk deeper into the kitchen, treating Nash to a view of her lace-covered bottom that made the air-conditioned house suddenly feel way too warm.
“That’s why I made red velvet cake. I still need to ice a few flowers, but…” Aria turned back to him with an expectant look on her face.
It took Nash a long second to realize she was pointing at something on the counter, and another, longer second, to force his eyes away from his insanely tempting wife.
When he did, his mouth dropped open.
“Is that…” He trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief as he crossed the room. “Did you make that?”
“Of course I made it,” Aria said, as if whipping up a three-tier wedding cake covered in intricate iced swirls in the shape of tiny paisleys with pearl centers was something she did every afternoon. “Do you think I’d let someone else make my wedding cake?”
Nash turned to her. “You made us a wedding cake.”
“We never had a wedding cake,” she said softly. “And we never had a wedding night either. I thought we should have both now that we’ve decided to stay married.”
Nash’s relief was so intense that for a second he thought his knees might give out. He braced himself on the counter with one hand, taking long deep breaths, shocked by the depth of his physical response, and so grateful he had to close his eyes and send out a quick prayer.
A prayer of gratitude for the chance at a life with the woman he loved.
“We have decided we’re going to stay married,” Aria said, a slight tremor in her voice. “Haven’t we?”
“God, yes,” Nash said, throwing the flowers on the floor in his haste to get Aria in his arms. He hooked one hand around Aria’s waist and pulled her close, hugging her so tight she let out a little grunt.
“Yes, yes, yes,” he murmured into the crook of her neck as she wrapped her arms around him and gave him an equally fierce hug.
“You had me worried for a second,” she said.
“I was just so damned relieved, I thought I was going to pass out,” Nash said, laughing as he hugged her even tighter, lifting her off the floor until her feet dangled. “I’m so sorry. I never should have left, it was a stupid idea.”
“The worst idea ever,” Aria agreed, pressing a kiss to his throat that made him shiver.
“But it did convince me of one thing,” Nash said, setting her back down on her feet, and pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Without you, I’m no good to anyone. I don’t care what we have to go through to be together. I would walk through fire to be with you. I would crawl on my belly through a mile of slugs to be with you.”
“Slugs are disgusting,” Aria said, her eyes shimmering, but a smile on her face so big and beautiful Nash knew she felt the same way he did.
“I heard you talked to my dad,” she said, brushing his hair tenderly from his face. “That was good of you.”
“Like I said, slugs or Bob Marches, whatever it takes.”
Aria shook her head and gave his earlobe a little pinch. “My daddy is not a slug. He’s just an insensitive pain in the butt who doesn’t think before he opens his mouth.”
“I know,” Nash said. “We had a good talk. We’re going to play nice from now on. You’re too important to both of us to do otherwise.”
“I’m a lucky woman,” Aria said, tears still shining in her eyes.
“No, I’m a lucky man.” Nash fought the urge to tear up right along with her. He didn’t want to cry. He wanted to carry his wife into the bedroom and make love to her until they both were too weak to stand up.
Without another word, he scooped Aria up in his arms, spun, and headed for the bedroom.
“Wait!” Aria cried out. “I wanted to feed you cake. Wedding cake before wedding night, that’s the way it goes!”
“I’m not hungry for cake,” Nash said, kicking open the door to the bedroom, and crossing to the bed in three long steps. “I’m hungry for my wife.”
Nash deposited Aria on the bed, watching her scoot back onto the pillows as he tore at his clothes, needing to be free of them as soon as possible. Free to feel Aria’s skin against his own, to feel her bare thighs shifting on either side of his legs, and her fingers digging into his back as he slid inside her.
Aria propped up on her elbows, meeting his gaze as he worked his belt open and tossed it to the floor. “You don’t know how much I like the sound of that,” she said. “I love being your wife.”
“And I love you,” Nash said, disposing of his pants and joining Aria on the bed. “And I’m never going to even think about giving up on us again,” he said, claiming her lips for a long, slow kiss. “We belong together, and Felicity and any other kids we have will be lucky to have a mom and dad who love each other so much. I’m sorry I doubted that, even for a day.”
“We were apart a week,” Aria said, urging him on top of her.
“I knew I’d screwed up by Monday afternoon,” Nash s
aid, shifting his weight, eager to be anywhere Aria wanted him to be.
“Then why didn’t you come home?” she asked, as she wrapped her legs around his waist, making it even more difficult to hold onto a rational thought.
“Because I’m a stubborn pain in the ass,” Nash said, barely able to resist dropping his lips to the tempting curves mounded above the bodice of her corset.
“Good thing I love stubborn pains in the ass,” Aria said, pulling him down for another kiss before whispering against his lips. “But if you ever leave me alone in this house again, I’m going to sell your gym equipment and use it to buy stock in a processed beef jerky company.”
“You wouldn’t.” Nash’s laugh turned to a moan as Aria reached between them, stroking him through his boxer shorts.
“I would,” she said, raking her fingernails lightly from his base to his tip and back again. “Lots and lots of stock.”
“Think of all the preservatives. That stuff is like poison.” Nash caught Aria’s wrists in his hands, drawing her arms up and over her head before pinning them to the mattress, knowing he wouldn’t last ten minutes if she kept touching him like that. “You’d have that on your conscience?”
“On your conscience.” Aria grinned up at him. “This only happens if you leave.”
“Well, I guess we’re safe, because I’m not going anywhere, Mrs. Geary.” He dropped his lips to hers for another long, deep kiss, a kiss that made his body hum and his heart fill and his soul toss out handfuls of confetti.
He had finally found his way back to the one who got away, and he was never, ever going to let her go.
***
His kiss, his kiss, his kiss.
Nash kisses were the best kisses. They set Aria’s heart on fire and made her ache with the most exquisite pleasure-pain she had ever known. Pleasure, because everything Nash did to her made her bones turn to mush and her body light up; pain, because close almost never seemed quite close enough.
Even with his skin hot against hers and her fingers twined in his hair and his mouth everywhere she had been dying for him to kiss her, she still wanted him closer, wanted to match her breath with his, to feel their hearts beat in time, to share a skin with the man she loved so that they would never have to be apart.
“Sometimes I want to crawl inside your chest and live there,” she said, breath catching as Nash flicked his tongue across her nipple, sending another ribbon of desire curling down to where she ached for him.
“I was going to suggest that, but worried you’d think I was crazy,” Nash said, sliding his hand into her panties, finding where she was already wet and ready.
Past ready.
“I don’t think you’re crazy.” Aria moaned as Nash pushed a finger inside her.
His finger moved in and out, in and out of her center with a teasing rhythm that did nothing to ease the tension building inside of her. It only wound her tighter and tighter, until Aria was writhing against him, increasingly desperate for relief.
“I just love you so much.” Nash paused to tease his tongue around and around her already swollen nipple, sending Aria from desperate to code red, intercourse-must-be-engaged-in-immediately in a matter of moments. “I want you with me all the time.”
“I want you inside me,” Aria breathed. “Right now.”
“Not yet,” he said in his deepest rumble of a voice, the one that only came out when he was really angry. Or so turned on he was close to losing control.
Control. It was so overrated.
“Yes. Yet. Now.” Aria dug her fingernails into Nash’s shoulders, arching her breasts closer to his mouth, squirming her hips in the way she knew drove him crazy. “Now. Please, Nash, I need—”
Nash cut her off with a kiss that made her head spin and her heart skip a beat, a kiss that turned the world upside down and made her so dizzy with wanting she didn’t realize Nash was stripping her panties down her legs until they were gone and his hot length lay heavy against her bare thigh.
“Yes,” she whispered against his mouth as she reached for him.
“I love you,” he said as he allowed her to position him at her entrance before pushing slowly, inch by glorious inch, inside her.
Aria’s eyes slid closed with a sigh as she relished the way he stretched her, filled her, sliding deeper and deeper until he connected with the end of her and his hip bones kissed her hip bones and the base of him nudged her clit and he was finally, finally close enough.
Perfectly close.
“I love you, too,” she said, eyes opening as they began to move, bodies coming together with a grace that left no doubt that they were made for each other.
Their gazes caught and held and gradually the world faded away, until there was nothing but the two of them, climbing together. Higher and higher, until the air was thin and their lungs ached and there was nothing left but the pure, crystalline need sharpening between them. Sharper and shaper, sweeter and sweeter, bodies moving faster until they shattered together, at the same moment, waves of bliss washing over them as they began the euphoric fall back to earth.
Hours later—after they’d christened the shower, grabbed a quick sandwich, eaten cake off of each others fingers, and then decided eating cake off other parts of each other would be more fun and ended up christening the kitchen floor, as well—Aria lay curled in bed with her head on Nash’s chest, too exhausted to move anything but the lazy fingers she traced through his dusting of chest hair.
“I’m glad you don’t shave your chest,” she said.
“Why would I?”
“Most body builders do.”
“I’m not a body builder,” he said. “I’m a fitness enthusiast.”
“Is that right, Meaty?” Aria smiled, her cheek still on his chest.
“That’s right, Red,” he said, hand sliding down to cup her bottom through her sleep shorts. “I’m also an Aria enthusiast.”
Aria chuckled. “No way. I can’t. You’ll break my privates.”
“Wouldn’t want to do that,” Nash said in a serious voice as he moved his hand back to her waist. “I really like your privates. A lot.”
“I could tell,” she said, still grinning. Her hands reached down between his legs. “I like yours, too. I’ve decided I’m keeping it forever.”
“Is that right?”
“It is,” Aria said. “It will be mine and I will call it Mr. Magic and I will love it and pet it and give it kisses when it is very good and I am in the mood.”
Nash laughed as he hugged Aria closer, leaning down to kiss the top of her head in a way that made her feel more treasured than a thousand kisses from anyone else.
“You can keep Mr. Magic,” Nash said. “And I’m keeping you. All of you.”
Aria wrapped her arm around his ribs and squeezed him tight. “That sounds perfect.”
“It does,” Nash agreed.
****
Did you enjoy Keeping You?
Check out more sexy, contemporary romances by Jessie Evans:
Betting on You (Always a Bridesmaid 1)
Wild For You (Always a Bridesmaid 3)
Catching You (A Summerville Short Story, Always a Bridesmaid 4)
Taking You (A Summerville Novella, Always a Bridesmaid 5)
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…or keep reading to enjoy a sample chapter of Wild for You, Melody and Nick’s story!
About the Author
Jessie Evans gave up a career as an international woman of mystery (and traditionally published author) to write the sexy, contemporary Southern romances she always wanted to read.
She's married to the man of her dreams, and together they're raising a few adorable, mischievous children in a tree house in the boonies. She grew up in rural Arkansas, spending summers running wild, being chewed by chiggers, and now appreciates her home in a chigger-free part of the world even more.
When she's not writing, Jessie enjoys playing her dulcimer (badly), sewing the worlds ugliest quilts to give to her friends, going for bike rides with her house full of boys, and wandering the woods, glass of wine and camera both in hand, on the lookout for Bigfoot.
A Southern girl, born and bred, Jessie loves writing Southern romances with just the right amount of sizzle, and hopes you'll enjoy her stories set in the fictional town of Summerville, Georgia. Especially the "Always a Bridesmaid" series!
Please enjoy this excerpt of Wild for You
By Jessie Evans
Chapter One
Melody March was not the sort of girl who drank three margaritas in less than two hours.
She didn’t stay out past eleven, or wear dresses that showed off her ample cleavage, or delete texts from her ex-boyfriend, Brian, without bothering to respond. She didn’t wear eyeliner and lipstick at the same time, or twirl in public, or take off her shoes to wade in the fountain in the middle of the town square.
The fact that at the present moment she was guilty of all of the above would have been enough to make her head spin even without all the tequila pumping through her bloodstream.
She didn’t know what had come over her lately.
Yes, she did. It was him, Nick Geary, the bad boy who had pressed her up against his car and kissed her until her bones turned to mush a month ago, only to treat her like a sweet, baby sister ever since. Melody had done her best to shift their relationship into a different gear, but no amount of flirting or cookie baking or cute dress wearing had been able to catch his eye. He seemed to like hanging out with her—he was always underfoot in the kitchen at work, stealing a taste of her dish-in-progress, helping tease her sisters, and laughing at her jokes—but his feelings for her seemed purely platonic.
Ugh. Platonic. It was enough to dent Melody’s infamously cheery disposition.
She kicked her leg, sending fountain water spraying onto the sidewalk.
“Get out of there! Someone’s going to see you,” her best friend, Kitty, said with a giggle.
