by R. R. Banks
I rise up from the lake once more, close enough now that I can dig my toes into the sand near the bank and begin to walk toward Xavier as he pats himself dry with a towel. Secretly, I wish he would forgo that part, as seeing the light dance on the wet, defined muscles of his back sends a yearning through my aching body that I can barely stand. I walk up behind him now, and slip my arms around his waist, embracing him from behind and giggling as I press my soaking wet body to his now dry one.
Xavier laughs deeply, and I kiss him in the middle of his broad back, moving from his spine around to his side as he turns to give me access to his chest. I move up his hardened pecs, and he lowers his mouth to meet mine as we lock our lips together for a moment, our tongues exploring each other as his large strong hands slide around to grab my hips. He pulls me close to him and I feel his thick erection against my lower belly, just barely concealed behind a thin layer of swimming trunks, causing the heat between my thighs to increase at the thought of it. His hands are undoing my top and I break our kiss to look around us.
"We're alone," he says, his voice low and filled with need, and I melt into him further.
I feel the strings of my bikini top fall to my sides as his hands move up to untie the ones behind my neck. I kiss his chest again. Leaning down to kiss my neck, Xavier peels the top away and drops it on the bag below us on the sand. His mouth moves down my neck and toward my exposed breasts. He flicks one nipple with his tongue before swirling it around and switching to do the same on the other. After a few minutes of this, his other hand reaches down to pull at his shorts.
Before he can pull them off, I press my lips to his neck and begin moving my way down, resting on my knees in front of him. He watches me with hunger in his eyes as I yank the shorts off his wet body, causing his erect cock to spring out at me. I grab his shaft greedily and lick it from the base to the tip. I swirl my tongue underneath the head and take it into my mouth as he groans in pleasure above me. I feel Xavier put both hands on either side of my head as he begins to thrust gently into my mouth. Placing my hands on his knees to support myself, I allow him to take control as he thrusts again, a little more forcefully than before. I can feel the head of his cock reaching the back of my throat and I groan a little as his length slips between my lips. This seems to embolden him further and he thrusts again, moving into a rocking motion and I relax into it, looking up to meet his eyes. I reach down into my bikini bottom and begin to massage myself as he rocks into me and I can see his approval of my actions on his face and feel it in my mouth as his cock engorges. I moan and whimper as I touch myself and I can see he is edging closer to orgasm himself when he suddenly pulls out of my mouth.
Xavier breathes heavily as he attempts to control himself and then pulls me to the blanket he has laid out. He motions for me to lay down, and I follow his instruction, settling myself into the center and basking in the warmth of the sun. He sits on his knees below me, and I close my eyes as he pulls my bikini bottom off. I want to focus on the feeling of his body, and he wastes little time before he pulls my legs apart and plunges into me. For a moment, I can't make any sound as his girth fills me. Xavier pulls back and then slams into me again, harder this time. He fills me even further than before, and I straddle the delicious line between pleasure and pain.
Xavier lifts me with one hand, pulling my ass off the ground, and begins to thrust even faster. I open my eyes to see him staring down at me, a devilish grin on his face as he fills me, and I whimper in ecstasy at the sensation. He begins to slow down now, probably wanting to take his time, and I feel both hands now resting under my bottom.
Suddenly, he flips me over, holding me up as if it were nothing, and gently placing me, knees first, back on the blanket. I brace myself with my hands as he reaches below me and uses a finger to find my aching clit. He begins to thrust deeply into me as he massages my most sensitive peak, and I can feel the explosive wave of an orgasm coming. He uses his other arm to hold my hips into place and repeatedly thrusts into me, stretching me open to take every inch of him. I release my hips and allow him to push as far into me as he can, and he takes that as an invitation to slam into me harder.
I can’t hold back any longer. Xavier is thrusting harder and faster into me, and I can tell he is close too, so I reach back, grab his ass with both hands, and push him even deeper inside of me. In one momentous explosion, I feel him come inside me as I fall headfirst into a delirious orgasm. My body shakes uncontrollably as I feel his essence pulse inside me. We stay like this for a few moments before he slowly thrusts into me a few more times, his cock emptying itself into me. Slowly, I crumble into the blanket, spent and satisfied, as Xavier lays down beside me. My husband is hot and spent against me, and the sun glows rich and warm around me, but the greatest warmth fills me from deep within. It spreads through my body, reaching the tips of my fingers and the bottoms of my feet. I feel nothing but happiness and pure, cleansing love. It surrounds me in a way I could have never imagined, and it is all I ever needed.
********
Xavier
That evening…
Taking Eisley out of Lilith's arms, I smile as she runs one hand over her swelling belly and slips the other arm around Evan's waist. She leans her head to rest on his chest, a blissful look on her face. Evan kisses the top of her head and holds her close, cuddling her in the protective, adoring way of a man who has finally found the woman he loves.
Behind me, Abigail walks past, holding Anna's hand with one hand and a large basket in the other. The relationship between the two of them has only grown stronger in the last two years, and every time I see them together, it touches my heart on a profound level. There was a time when I thought my first little girl would never have that type of bond and would always long for a life with two parents to love and support her. Seeing her with Abigail is more than I could have ever hoped for, because I know that not only has my daughter been given a new mother in this beautiful, incredible, and compassionate woman, but she also has had nothing taken from her. Abigail has never shied away from talking about Helen with Anna, and she has found countless ways to help our oldest daughter connect with and honor her mother, reminding her that even though Helen wasn't here with us long, she loved Anna and is still watching over her. The selfless, unending love Abigail has shown both of us is something I am grateful for with every breath I take.
Eisley coos and wiggles in my arms and I grin down at her. She is the perfect addition to our family. Anna loves being a big sister. She is so proud of her baby sister and tries to help every way she can. There have been several nights when Anna wasn't in her bed when I went to check on her, but curled up on the daybed in the nursery so she could be close to Eisley instead. I haven't told her I know. I probably never will. Some moments should stay between sisters.
I follow Abigail as she walks out of the house with Lilith and Evan close behind. The firepit we built a few yards from the lake is roaring with the fire Evan started, and I watch sparks jump up into the dark sky. Abigail sets the basket down on the ground and pulls out a blanket that she drapes across one of the large logs positioned around the pit. She takes out two more and hands one to Anna, and one to Evan. She then reaches into the basket and pulls out a bag of marshmallows. Anna tosses her blanket over another of the logs and rushes over to the metal canister placed at the edge of the ring to take out the handful of metal sticks inside. After distributing them to everyone, she opens the bag of marshmallows, spears one with her stick, and holds it into the fire. I carry Eisley over to the log where Abigail is now sitting, the blanket draped over her shoulders. Nestling the baby into her mama's lap, I pick up my own marshmallow and take my place beside Anna at the edge of the fire.
Anna’s face glows with the warmth of the fire as she looks up at me with a bright smile. I turn to look into the flames and feel a sense of peace settle over me. I no longer feel the instant tension through my body when I see the fire. The sense of urgency and desperation is gone, and I don't hear the screams in the back of my mind. Ins
tead, I have allowed myself to feel the heat warm up my skin and see it dance against the glittering night sky or across my daughter's eyes. I smell the melted marshmallows and hear the snap of the woods. It's not that I've forgotten. I will never forget. But now I'm choosing how to remember.
Once my marshmallow is blackened to perfection, I walk back over the log and settle next to Abigail. She looks at the stick and laughs.
"What?" I ask. "This is exactly how I like it."
"Marshmallow-shaped ash?" she asks.
"Yes." I take a bite of the crumbling candy and she chuckles as charred powder falls to the ground, and stands of molten sugar cling to my lips. "Perfect," I say, my lips sticking together.
"I can see that," she says.
Abigail squeals as I lean over to kiss her, trying to avoid getting any marshmallow on her. Holding Eisley keeps her from being able to retreat successfully, and she eventually relents and accepts the sticky kiss. Giggling, she glides her tongue across mine and nibbles the final remnants of marshmallow from my lips. I kiss her again and lean my forehead against hers for a few seconds.
"I love you," I murmur to her.
"I love you," she whispers back. "No matter where we are."
"Everywhere we are."
THE END
A Note from the Author
Thank you for reading Protecting Abigail. I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, may I ask you to please write a review? I would really appreciate it and be forever grateful. Reviews are very important and allow me to keep writing the books that you love to read!
Flip this page to read a sample from Taking Her.
Thank you for reading my books and letting me serve you doing what I love!
R.R. Banks
Taking Her (Sample)
By R.R. Banks
An Amazon Top 30 Bestseller
*216Customer Reviews – 4.8/5 Stars
To protect her, I had to take her.
Once a rock god, I lived life in the fast lane,
I was a king. I owned this world.
Men wanted to be me.
Women wanted to f*ck me.
Life was one big party until my best friend died,
And I left it all behind.
I found success and kept my billions.
I was untamable, cold, and incapable of love.
Then a twist of fate brought me Zoe.
A raven-haired beauty with virgin curves, and luscious lips.
I claimed her innocence and she became my new addiction.
But some arrogant bastard thinks he owns her.
And he'll do whatever it takes to steal her from me.
When it comes to Zoe and our unborn child.
I'll do everything to keep my family safe.
Even if that means taking her...
If they try and stop me, I'll make them pay!
Chapter One
Connor
The funny thing about being an addict is that you can get addicted to just about anything you put your mind to. Trust me, I know. We don't even have to try all that hard. There are, of course, the usual suspects – the alcoholics, cokeheads, meth burners, and heroin slammers, not to mention the fans and devotees of a thousand other drugs.
But, the fact is, you can get addicted to almost anything. Gambling is a popular one. People chasing that elusive high can sometimes get off on the thrill of a big bet. But, there are other addictions you'd never think of. Really bizarre and ridiculous ones. Exercising. Stamp collecting. Fishing. Golfing. Knitting. Extreme couponing.
Fuck me sideways if I ever let myself get addicted to anything like golf or extreme goddamn couponing. If that happens, I'll pay good money to have someone put me down like a rabid dog. At the very least, I'll ask somebody for a good and thorough ass kicking – one I'd absolutely deserve for being such a wanker.
Like a good drug, the rush I get from being with a woman is intense. It gives me a powerful release. But, once that high is gone, it's completely gone. And, like the addict I used to be – maybe still am – I'm off to find the next high. Or, in this case, the next woman to share my bed.
Thank the good Lord above that I don't have a problem getting women. The faint Irish brogue that still colors my voice – something I play up when necessary – never fails to make the ladies swoon. And although I might not be Calvin Klein underwear model gorgeous, I'm a pretty good-looking guy, if I do say so myself.
Add to that, the fact that I was pretty goddamn famous for a time. Maybe my band, FUBAR, wasn't on the same plane as Metallica, but we made a pretty big footprint in the music industry in our own right.
And oh yeah, I'm hung like a mule.
Throw that all into the pot, simmer, stir, and what you get is a goddamn walking, talking aphrodisiac. Catnip for the masses. All of that has ensured that I have a line of eager and willing women out the door.
They say, when it comes to addicts, we're always looking to fill some hole inside of us. And we'll fill that void with anything we can. Anything that makes us feel good. Anything that takes our minds off our shitty lives for a while. And once we use that up, we move on to the next thing that fills us.
Yeah, it took a lot of rehab and a lot of money spent on therapists for me to eventually come up with that little nugget of wisdom.
And when I say that women are my addiction, I'm not being metaphorical. I feel the same kinds of cravings I got back when I was slamming heroin. Just like when I was using, when those cravings strike, I'm nearly powerless to stop them from consuming me. My mind hyperfocuses on it and getting laid is all I can think about.
Basically, if I have any intention of functioning like a normal human being, I have to find a woman willing to sate me and curb that craving.
Although I haven't been particularly relevant in the mainstream music world for about a decade now, that little brush with fame still sends women into a frenzy and keeps me knee-deep in panties.
Believe me, it's something I still dine out on. Having a famous name – even if you haven't been in the spotlight for a while – is still pretty fuckin' great.
I drop down into the chair in front of the mirror and stare at myself, somehow feeling a lot older than I look. I run a hand through the light brown hair that falls to my shoulders. My green eyes are sparkling like polished jade and there's color in my cheeks.
There's a knock at the door that pulls me out of my thoughts. A second later, it opens and one of the club's production assistants – a kid who doesn't look old enough to even drink in this club – steps in and looks around sheepishly, as if he'd expected to find me in the middle of a wild orgy or something. Little does he know that it's been years since I did anything like that.
“Five minutes, Mister Grigson,” he says, a slight tremor in his voice.
“Connor,” I reply. “Just Connor.”
“Connor,” he says and smiles nervously. “Can I just say how much your music means to me? Your work with FUBAR, I mean. It was basically the soundtrack to my youth and – I mean, not that your music now is bad or anything, that's not what I mean –”
I laugh softly and shake my head. Christ on a fuckin' cracker, I'm thirty-eight years old and yet, the way this kid is talking, you'd think I was seventy-eight. The soundtrack of his youth? I know he means well, but shit, I don't need to be made to feel older than I already do.
“I appreciate that –”
“Damian,” he says quickly, as if he's dying for me to know his name and hear me say it.
“I appreciate that, Damian,” I say. “That means a lot.”
Damian beams and looks very pleased. Good for him. We look at each other for a moment, neither of us seemingly sure what to say. Finally, he clears his throat and checks his watch.
“Sorry,” he says. “Four minutes.”
“Thanks, mate.”
Damian closes the door behind him when he leaves, giving me a few moments of peace before I go take the stage. Gone are the days of the sold-out stadium tours and all the chaos it entailed. Mu
sic is still a much-needed outlet for me. But now, I prefer playing small clubs and more intimate settings that isn't really compatible with my old style.
My music with FUBAR was hard, loud, and aggressive. It was angry. I used it to lash out at anybody who'd pissed me off or whatever I perceived to be some slight or injustice. Today, I like to think that my music has a message. To me, it's more personal. I write my songs because I have something to say.
Whether or not anyone actually understands what I'm saying isn't my concern. I hope they can. But, it's just as important for me to get those thoughts and feelings out there. Let people do with my words as they will. They usually do anyway.
I check my watch and let out a breath, feeling the first fluttering of those old, familiar butterfly wings in my belly I get right before a performance. You'd think with how often I'd been on stage, it wouldn't bother me in the least. Even now though, after all those shows and all these years, I still get nerves.
Back in the day, I would have smoked something or taken a shot to settle my nerves before I went on. These days, a beautiful woman usually does the trick. Though I'm not going to lie, there are times when I get that urge to take a needle. When my body craves that old, familiar rush. Sometimes, that urge is almost overwhelming.
It's a byproduct of my former lifestyle and I just have to weather the storms whenever they arise. Copious amounts of booze, drugs, debauchery, and absolute excess – such was the lifestyle of a rock and roll god. Or, at least, a rock and roll minor deity.
It was a life though, that was unsustainable – unless I wanted to go tits up before I turned forty, anyway. Heroin damn near ruined my life. In my mate Ronnie's case, it took his. That was my wake-up call – the night we both OD'ed. I somehow survived. Ronnie didn't. To this day, I don't know why the good Lord spared me and took Ronnie instead. It doesn’t seem right. It isn’t fair.
