The Thrill of It

by Lauren Blakely

  “Then we’ll deal with it then. Together. Trust me, there is nothing, not a thing on this fucking planet, that we cannot get through. I promise you,” he says, and he taps my arrow. “Staying.”

  “Staying,” I repeat.

  The arrow is staying.

  Now I know. Now I get it. I understand. This is love. It’s not a game. It’s not a razor’s edge. It’s not a transaction.

  The poets are right. The dreamers are right. The lovers are right. This isn’t nothing. This is everything.

  * * *

  Four weeks later…

  Joanne knits another row on a hot pink pair of socks as she begins the meeting. We go round and do the introductions at the girls-only meeting. Chloe, Ainsley, a new gal named Katrina.

  They say their hellos and we say hi back. Then it’s my turn.

  “I’m Harley, and I’m a sex and love addict,” I say and Joanne beams at me. It’s been a few weeks now since I started using my real name here. It still feels weird and clunky after having the mask of Layla for so many months.

  “Hi Harley,” the other gals say to me.

  Then we talk and we share, and look, I’m not going to say I am sunshine and unicorns and the girl who overshares. I am still mostly a closed book, and I don’t know that healing means being open about everything.

  Sometimes, I just practice the words in my head. I like the way they sound as I rewrite my story.

  I’m Harley, I’m a sex and love addict. I’m in recovery. I was a virgin, I was a call girl, I was my mother’s daughter. Now I am a friend, I am a girlfriend, I am trying. I am twenty, and I don’t care how many guys I’ve kissed. There is only one guy I am kissing and will kiss. Now and always.

  And that has to count for something.

  When the meeting ends, I chat with Joanne for a few minutes, then say goodbye, because it’s my birthday and I’m having cake and watching a movie with Trey, Kristen and Jordan.

  I rush up the steps and out onto the street, heading to my apartment. For a brief moment, my stomach cramps as if I’ve run too far and I have a stitch in my side. It reminds me of field hockey practice when we’d do laps.

  But the feeling fades quickly, and I’m grateful for its exit because it’s time for cake when I unlock the door to my apartment.

  Kristen’s in the kitchen lining up twenty pink and yellow birthday candles in a circle on the chocolate cake. “Can’t promise it’ll be any good. I’m not really known for my mad kitchen skills,” Kristen says with a shrug.

  “I bet it’s fabulous,” I say and squeeze her arm.

  Trey and Jordan join us in the kitchen as Kristen lights the candles and they all start singing. I don’t even pretend to act humble, or like it’s no big deal. It is a big deal. I’m celebrating my birthday the way I want – with my friends, and my boyfriend, with a cake that’s not made by my mom, and my life is finally starting to feel like my own. Moment by moment. Like I belong to myself.

  So I sing along, and the four us are loud as loud can be.

  “Now make a wish,” Kristen says, gesturing to the candles.

  Leaning close, I gather my breath, and blow the flames out at once. I wish for more moments like this.

  “What did you wish for?” Trey asks as he reaches for my hand, laces his fingers through mine. I love that we hold hands, that we held hands as friends, and now as more.

  “I can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”

  He sticks out his tongue at me as Kristen serves the cake on small plates for each of us.

  “Mmm. Delicious,” Jordan declares after a bite.

  Kristen rolls her eyes. “You’re just saying that to score points.”

  “No. This really is good cake,” Trey says after he takes a forkful.

  “Now you’re just backing up your buddy,” she says.

  “Kristen, you are going to have to accept that you actually made a delicious cake in a tiny New York kitchen,” I tell her after I finish another bite.

  Soon, she and Jordan have moved to the living room to pick out a movie on the laptop, while Trey and I wash off the plates. As I rinse the final one, he loops his arms around my waist, rests his chin on my shoulder, and sneaks in a kiss on my neck.

  “Mmm. Is that my birthday present?”

  He tugs me against him, my back to his front. “I have many presents for you,” he says in a sexy, suggestive voice.

  I shut off the faucet and turn around in his arms. “Being with you, like this, is all I want.”

  “But I still want to give you more presents,” he says playfully.

  I brush my lips against his. “I will gladly accept. But this is already the best birthday ever,” I say, because it is. Because I am living in the moment. In the present. Making the most of it. Taking every day one day at a time.

  Then we kiss, one of those sweet, lingering kisses that makes you feel as if you’re floating.

  “C’mon. Opening credits starting,” Kristen says, calling out to us.

  We head to the living room, and start the movie, all curled up on the couch, like puppies in a litter, Kristen and Jordan tangled together, and Trey and I wrapped up in each other.

  But after a half hour, my stomach starts to churn again.

  “Excuse me,” I say and head to the bathroom. As soon as I shut the door, I feel the cake rising back up, so I cover my mouth with my hand, then quickly realize that won’t do the trick. I bend over the toilet and say goodbye to my birthday cake.

  I cough a few times, flush the toilet, then wash my hands. I reach for my toothbrush, squirt on some toothpaste and brush my teeth to get rid of the yucky taste. I watch myself in the mirror, the repetitive motion lulling away the strange twists in my stomach.

  Then it hits me.

  Like a bigass wave you didn’t see coming. It slams me to the shore, and I drop my toothbrush into the sink. As it clatters, a speckle of toothpaste ricochets into my eye. It stings momentarily, and I rub it away quickly.

  I kneel and open the cupboard below the sink, rummaging for something Kristen once needed several months ago.

  My heart is speeding and smashing against the walls of my chest. No way, no way, no way.

  But as I count backwards, I’m certain it’s been more than four weeks, and I don’t know how this could have happened. We were safe. Every time. But then, condoms can break. Is it my fault since I always put them on him? Did I slip and nick one with my fingernail? No. I’m just freaking out. I’m being ridiculous like Kristen was when she bought this test. Hers was negative, as I predicted it would be.

  She flashed the stick before me, cheering up and down over one pink line.

  I reach for the other stick, the one she didn’t need since hers was negative.

  I read the instructions, and it’s not morning, it’s night. But hell if I care. I need to know. I need to settle my paranoid heart.

  I sit down on the toilet, pee on the stick, and wait all those interminable minutes for an answer.

  Trey told me nothing on the planet could come between us, but if anything could, this would be it, right? Nothing would scare him more than this. Nothing in the entire universe.

  I close my eyes, lean my head against the wall and pray.

  When I open my eyes and hold up the stick, I am seasick, my future is out of focus, and even though my world has gone blurry I can see clearly two pink lines.

  I have no idea how the father of the baby is going to take this news.

  To be continued….

  Stay tuned for book 2 in the No Regrets series, EVERY SECOND WITH YOU, releasing in early 2014. And for more of Harley and Trey and the full story of the night they met, check out the prequel novella, THE START OF US, releasing in early December 2013.

  Check out my other contemporary romance novels!

  Caught Up In Us, a New York Times and USA Today Bestseller! (Kat and Bryan’s romance!)

  Pretending He’s Mine, a Barnes & Noble and iBooks Bestseller! (Reeve & Sutton’s romance)

  T
rophy Husband, a New York Times and USA Today Bestseller! (Chris & McKenna’s romance)

  Playing With Her Heart, a USA Today Bestseller! (Davis and Jill’s romance)

  Far Too Tempting, an Amazon romance bestseller! (Matthew and Jane’s romance)

  Acknowledgements

  Nobody tells you that the acknowledgements is the most terrifying part of writing a novel. I am praying I don’t leave anyone out because I have so very many people to thank. But my first thank you as always, forever and ever, goes to my amazing readers. I have said it before, and I will never grow tired of saying it – I love you all. You are the reason I write. I love hearing from you, I love your notes, emails, tweets, posts, reviews and sweet comments. They fill my heart with so much happiness, and you make me want to write more. You are passionate and vocal and I adore you all. Thank you.

  Next in line is the inimitable Monica Murphy. She is my cheerleader, my pimp, my friend, my sounding board, my shoulder to lean on and, most of all, she is the reason this book exists. The idea was on the back burner for many years until she told me I had to write The Thrill of It. So, really, she made me do it. And I love her for it!

  My publicist and friend Kelly at Inkslinger PR didn’t balk when I told her I wanted to write a call girl/love & sex addiction book next. She was ready in seconds to strategize, and she has been terrific, nimble and passionate at every step of the journey.

  A massive thank you to Sawyer Bennett for beta reading and to my amazing wonderful Zoe for her keen eye and vital feedback. Kim Bias was my line of defense, thoughtfully providing important input for my final edits, and jumping in whenever I needed her.

  And then there is my friend Hetty. Without Hetty, I would not have this beautiful cover that I love. Like a treasure hunter, she found the photo on her own when I simply told her the concept for the story. A cover is a team project, and I am lucky to have the immensely talented Sarah Hansen in my corner. She knocked this one out of the park with her gorgeous design and her skill at tracking down the photographer. Credit for the beautiful cover photo goes to Anthony Langlois at Glimpse Photography. I am so glad to be in business with you, Anthony. You are an artist and a gentleman, and your models are my characters. No questions asked.

  Big thanks as well to my indie besties—Violet Duke, Lexi Ryan, Kendall Ryan, Sawyer Bennett, Monica Murphy and Melody Grace. Thank you to Christina Lee for the amazing blurb. Tara Simone is a fabulous brainstorm partner, friend and business advisor. (Her book Vacationista is hilarious!)

  I have come to rely on the friendship and support of a core group of passionate readers - Hetty, Kim, Cara and Kristy - you are my fab four. Kim, thank you so much for all that you do to keep the ship running smoothly.

  Becky, your encouragement during the writing kept me motivated. Helen at All Booked Out rocks the graphics. Much love to these ladies.

  Then there are the bloggers who are the foundation of the indie world. I love you all. A huge thanks to Totally Booked for sharing the first chapter, to My Fictional Book Boyfriend & Book Whore for the teaser opportunity, to Rock Stars of Romance for the early support, and to Heather from The REAL Housewives of Romance Book Blog, Hetty at BestSellers & BestStellars, and Helen at All Booked Out for the amazing teaser pics. But that’s only the beginning! Thank you to Book Whores Obsession, Reviews by Tammy and Kim, Kristy at Book Addict Mumma, Two Crazy Girls with a Passion for Books, Shh…Mom’s Reading, Romance Addict, Little Black Book Blog, Flirty and Dirty Book Blog, Britt Blabs Books, HEA Shelf Blogger, Angie’s Dreamy Reads, Becky at Reality Bites! Let’s Get Lost, Kelly at KellyVision, The Book Enthusiast, True Story Book Blog, Chapter Break, LoveNBooks, Just Booked and many more. Special shout-outs to Laura at Bookish Treasures, Tracey K., my lovely Retta Rusaw, Karen – The Danish Bookaholic, Stacey at Reading Rainblog, Lexi at Book Reviews by Lexi, Sandra Shipman, Yvette at Nose Stuck in a Book, Tanya at After the Final Chapters, Shey Houston at Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews, Jennifer Reyes from Jen’s Book Reviews, Tanya The Book Obsessed Momma, Wendy at The Geekery Book Review, Kat and Ava from Book Nerds Anonymous, Jaime Britten Collins from For The Love of Books by Jaime, Julie Solorio with Love Between the Sheets, the absolutely fantastic and amazing Bette Hansen, Kim Brown at Chapter Break, MJ Fryer, Betsy Gehring from Book Drunk Blog, my fave girl Kenna N, the awesome Carolyn Isherwood, Jennifer from Jennifer’s Reading and Jennifer’s Taking a Break, Jassie, the amazing Dianne of Oops I Read A Book Again, Sue F, Melissa, Diane from Naughty Book Eden, Chelsea at Starbucks & Books Obsession, Teresa Gomez from Sinful Reviews, Jessica at Lovin’ Los Libros, Jennifer, Tabatha at Insightful Minds Reviews, Louisse from The Soul Sisters, Marianna at A Lust for Reading, Kelly at Smut Book Junkie Book Reviews, Amy at Schmexy Girl Book Blog and Lauren Turkel.

  Finally, thank you to my friends and family. My husband and children are so wonderful and their love and support keep me going. That, and the cookies, chocolate and green tea they bring me. So much love to these amazing people.

  Last but not least are my dogs. They are with me for nearly every word and I love them.

  And I suppose, in some strange way, I need to thank Harley and Trey. This might be the cheesiest, corniest thing I’ve ever said, but I’m so glad they trusted me with their story.

  Sneak Peek of Quintessentially Q,

  sequel to the bestseller, Tears of Tess,

  by Pepper Winters.

  Dear Readers: I am thrilled to share a brief excerpt from Pepper Winters Quintessentially Q that releases December 15. Warning - her books are not for the faint of the heart. She is dark, edgy and addictive.

  Xoxo

  Lauren

  Exclusive Exerpt for Quintessentially Q.

  The sequel to the bestseller, Tears of Tess,

  by Pepper Winters.

  “All my life, I battled with the knowledge I was twisted… fucked up to want something so deliciously dark—wrong on so many levels. But then slave fifty-eight entered my world. Hissing, fighting, with a core of iron, she showed me an existence where two wrongs make a right.”

  * * *

  Tess is Q’s completely. Q is Tess’s irrevocably. But now, they must learn the boundaries of their unconventional relationship, while Tess seeks vengeance on the men who sold her. Q made a blood-oath to deliver their corpses at Tess’s feet, and that’s just what he’ll do.

  He may be a monster, but he’s Tess’s monster.

  PROLOGUE

  -Q-

  I thought I would be her nightmare—her terror and darkness. I wanted to be. I needed her more than food or sunlight. Only when she came into my life did I start to live—intoxicated by her taste, screams, and joy.

  But our fucked up fairytale didn’t exactly have a happy ending.

  Tess.

  My Tess.

  My esclave—so strong and fierce and sexually feral—wasn’t strong enough for what happened.

  Her cage wasn’t me anymore.

  It was them.

  CHAPTER ONE

  -Q-

  All I could think was—she’s dead. She had to be. All that blood, so bright with a coppery tang, almost sweet.

  Her snowy skin was extra frosty, grey-blue eyes closed to me.

  Rage and terror strangled as I fell to my knees in the warm puddle of crimson. The whip in my hands was slippery with sweat, and I hurled it away in disgust. I did this. I let myself go and showed my true self. The monster inside ruined the only brightness in my life.

  “Tess?” I pulled her into my arms, dragging her cold, lifeless form closer. Blood smeared over us. Her red-welted body oozed with damnation.

  “Wake up, esclave,” I growled, hoping an order would force those dove-blue eyes open. No response.

  I bent, pressing my cheek against her mouth, waiting endlessly for a small puff of breath, a signal I hadn’t gone too far.

  Nothing.

  Fear stopped my heart, and all I wanted to do was rewind time. Rewind to a simpler place where I lived with needs and urges, but never let myself believe I could
be free. Rewind to the day when Tess arrived, and I promptly sent her back to her silly boyfriend Brax. At least if I did, she would be safe and my life wouldn’t have ended.

  At least then, Tess would be alive.

  My demons killed her.

  I killed her.

  I threw my head back and howled.

  * * *

  “Q. Q!”

  Something sharp bit my shoulder and I flinched. Rolling away, I tried to ignore the call. I deserved to stay in this endless hell. The hell I created for killing the one woman who stole my life and showed me an emotion I never dared dream for: connection.

  My cheek smarted as if someone slapped me, blazing through the darkness with a bite of pain.

  Eyes snapped open to a wild-eyed, blonde goddess on top of me. The debilitating terror wouldn’t leave, even though she was alive and glaring with passion I grew to know so well.

  “What the hell, Q. That’s the third time this week. You going to tell me what you’re dreaming about to warrant howling like a werewolf?” Tess pinned my shoulders to the mattress and I couldn’t stop muscles from tensing. I liked her on top, but I didn’t like her holding me as if she was in control. It wasn’t how I worked.

  “None of your business.” I rolled, grabbing her hips to pin her beneath me. I risked a small smile. With her under me, my world righted again. I ran hands over her waist, up her throat, to her lips. Her breath fluttered, coming faster and the rest of my panic receded.

  She was still breathing.

  I hadn’t killed her.

  Yet.

  Tess ran her hand softly over my cheek, tickling. “You should tell me what you’re afraid of. Brax used to—”

  I froze, grinding my teeth. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t finish that sentence.” Goddammit, why did she have to bring the ghost of her goody-too-shoes boyfriend who treated her like a fragile princess into our bed?