Red Hot Valentine: Falling for Cupid

by Christin Lovell

  When I straightened he pinned me again. “Don’t think because I have a girl’s name that I’m going to take it easy on you.”

  I smiled, loving the new Coop that was emerging. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  —

  Cupid

  She brought out the manly beast in me. She made me drop all pretenses and embrace what I wanted. She made me wonder if all the romance I’d dished out before had been a lie, a lie I myself even fed into. For so long I’d turned living up to my name into a lifestyle, literally what my life revolved around. Then she stormed in and with a few hard lines, she debunked all I thought I stood for. She stripped the façade I didn’t realize existed and forced me to look within and embrace the real me.

  When had I ever skipped the formalities, the niceties with a woman? When was the last time I wasn’t trying to live up to a name I had disliked my entire life but resigned myself to make the best of?

  Shit. I’d let a fucking name direct my entire life.

  It was all happening so fast, but she was the first thing that felt right, genuine to what the real Coop wanted. She was who I’d needed all along.

  —

  Daisy

  The moment I unlocked the door to my second floor apartment, he threw it open and claimed my lips, backing me in blindly. This time he held nothing back. This time he kissed me like he’d been waiting all his life to.

  I heard him kick the door shut before he spun me and pressed me to it. The door was cold against my back, but he was so warm at my front, like a fire in the middle of a snowstorm.

  His tongue plunged between my lips carnally tasting every inch of my mouth. There was a hint of sweetness to him, a subtle lingering spearmint flavor. “I want this off,” he snarled, feeling around my back for a zipper.

  “There isn’t one. This dress is like a present. Pull the material from between my breasts and unwrap me.”

  He drew back yanking furiously on the material at my chest. The storm brewing in his depths was nothing short of my dreams. Desire darkened his pale eyes until sapphires and emeralds pierced me, ensuring I saw that he wanted me. The determined pucker between his brows told me he was going to take me how he wanted.

  Slowly he unwrapped the garment until the rest could pool at my feet. Hunger, raw, savage hunger, blazed through him as he took me in. No man had ever looked at me like that, like he wanted to consume me, like I was going to be helpless to fight him off me if I wanted to.

  Need slicked my pussy. Goose bumps freckled across my flesh as longing built within me. Sweet cherry pie I wanted him. I was ready to make this dream come true. I was ready to thrust my fingers through his hair; I was ready to dig my manicured nails into his flesh as he fucked me with knee melting intensity.

  Abruptly, he hooked me by the panties and pulled me against him. “Much better.” He took my mouth, stealing my breath, stealing my demand that he strip too. He unhooked my bra. The moment my breasts were free, his hands were on them, massaging, teasing the tender globes. His thumbs worked my nipples to turgid peaks.

  I felt my control slipping. For so long I’d held myself back. Brad was right. This one time- No, wait, two times. These two times he was right. It was time.

  I tugged on his tie until it came apart. My fingers fumbled with the buttons on his vest and shirt, jerking them both off at once. I planted my palms on his pecs, feeling the hard masculine plains of him unabashedly.

  We explored each other, feeling every valley and peak. I memorized the feel of him against me, creating a mental road map.

  My hands dove for his pants the moment he wrenched my panties at the waist.

  “Ladies first,” he ordered. His mouth sought my neck and kissed a trail down me as he removed my lace panties.

  I gasped as he nudged my legs apart and dove for my pussy. I fell back against the door, a moan escaping as his tongue tested my entrance before drawing a line up and circling my pulsing clit. I thrust my fingers into his strands, holding him for balance.

  He obliged my silent plea and worked my sensitive bud until I was a shuddering mess. His eyes never left mine, forcing a level of intimacy. He wasn’t letting me hide. He demanded to see the pleasure he laved upon my abundant curves.

  I found myself writhing into the steady sweeps of his tongue as pressure burned through me, overpowering flittering pleasure with the need for more.

  He sucked my folds, pulling back, leaving me whimpering like a pup. My body was wound tight to the point of discomfort. “Don’t worry.” He chucked his shoes and the last of his clothes. God he was gorgeous. The deep grooves between his muscles alluded to his strength, to the powerful male he was. “I’m about to send us both over the edge, honey.”

  I nodded my head. I’d never craved someone so desperately. My chest hurt, my limbs were stiff; my heart pounded against my lungs making it hard to breath. “Fuck me, please.”

  He reached for his pants on the floor and rifled through his pocket. Within seconds he tore into the condom wrapper and donned it. He stepped into me, aligning his cock at my sopping folds. Our gazes locked; he wouldn’t release me. Instead, he moved closer. He enclosed his arms around my waist, bringing all of my lush roundness against him. He held me so tight a sheet of tissue paper couldn’t fit between us.

  I felt him lift me to my tiptoes before he slammed into me, to the hilt. We both groaned. Pleasure burst through my core. Like fireworks blasting from within, sensation burned then fizzled, leaving me hankering for more immediately.

  He set a heart pounding rhythm. With my legs spread, with the height difference, he had the leverage. He clutched me like a rag doll and burrowed into me over and over. His gaze stabbed me, further electrifying me.

  Fuck, he was hot. The way he ground his teeth, the flare of his nostrils on every sharp exhale, the permanent furrow of his brows in passionate concentration was sexy as hell. His strength bulged and flexed beneath my palms as he took me the way he wanted to, the way I’d always dreamed.

  Tension wound and bound every muscle in my body. My womb was one massive knot, the epicenter of my yearning. Pressure suspended me. I was drowning in him, the sound of his flesh hitting mine, the sound of his rugged breaths mixing with my own, the sound of his tiny grunts as he thoroughly took me. I’d never been lost in someone like I was in Coop.

  Then my feet were off the ground; his efforts seemed to double. The weight, the fall, the new angle sent me tumbling fast and hard into him. I had not doubt my neighbors heard every guttural cry that left my lips. I damn near climbed him, clawing him as if he was going to let go. My body shattered around powerful waves of pleasure that stole my strength. He blurred before me. I felt him, but he seemed far away as I was pulled under swell after swell of rich sensation.

  He held me, stroking me gently. “I’ve got you and I’m not letting you go.” It was a declaration and a relief.

  I blinked rapidly, gasping for air. My heart and pulse were in accord, both sprinting at a loud, rapid pace. My limbs tingled, feeling molded of Jell-O rather than flesh and bone.

  He nuzzled my neck, kissing his way up to my lips. It wasn’t until my body began to calm down that I realized his breathing was just as labored as mine. I felt his heart thundering in his chest. He held me to him so tight, like he was relying on me for support as much as I was relying on him. His kiss was softer now, more sensual, as if his lips were stroking me for comfort’s sake. “You’re beautiful.” The way he looked at me left no room for doubt.

  I felt my cheeks heat. “So are you.”

  He gave me a goofy, starry-eyed grin. His irises melted into pools of cool water, sparkling like light rays were reflecting off of them. “What do you say we shower then head to my place? We can pick up take out on the way.” He set me down, testing my legs before he released me.

  I leaned up and kissed him. “I say follow me.” I sashayed towards the bathroom, knowing he watched my every lump, roll and curve sway along the way.

  —

  Chapter Six
<
br />   February 14th

  Cupid

  The last eleven days were the best of my life. Daisy was everything I’d wanted and more. She was full of tenacity. She challenged me to always be the best I could be, no excuses allowed.

  “Did your brother decide whether he’s coming for Memorial Day weekend yet?” She dropped into the chair beside me at the table.

  “No, but that’s Nick. We won’t know till the day before he arrives probably.” I stared at her. I would never tire of looking at her.

  She wore light, tight skinny jeans and a white button up shirt that showed off her curves perfectly. She was larger than any woman I’d ever been with, but that didn’t detract from her beauty. She was feminine and soft, the way every woman ought to be. She never ceased to get me going. I was happy to taste and feel her generous swerves all day long.

  She smiled, her brown eyes lighting with humor. “You’re doing it again.”

  I pulled her to me. She didn’t hesitate to straddle me. My arms closed around her; my hands held her firmly at the base of her spine. “You can’t fault me when you look this good, honey.”

  Her smile grew, giving her a healthy glow. “You say that all the time.”

  I laughed, my heart warming. “I don’t plan to stop.”

  She hooked her hands around my neck. “At least you’re upfront and honest, except when it came to admitting your twisted obsession with a certain used-to-be-married woman.”

  “For good reason. I didn’t want us to start with complications.”

  She softened in my arms. “I know.”

  My chest tightened. Out of nowhere, fear squeezed my lungs. I’d grown attached in our short time together; I didn’t know what I’d do if she ever walked away. I fell sleep holding her and I woke up seeking her. She’d flipped a switch inside me. She’d turned me into a needy, possessive beast. I would never tire of her, of her sass, her humor and her company; she was full of ideas, had a great eye, and, on top of it all, she was knockout gorgeous.

  I brushed a stray hair back. Her hair was wrapped into a tight bun I couldn’t wait to free at the end of the day. Red lipstick drew my eyes to her supple lips that returned kisses so well. Diamond stud earrings gave her a simple, yet polished and sexy look.

  Diamonds.

  Apparently Cupid’s arrow shot you up with lust you couldn’t deny, and it was when you gave into that lust that you learned how compatible you two were, and how easy it was to love the right person.

  “I love you, Daisy.”

  She sighed, beaming as she claimed my lips. “I love you too, Coop.”

  One hand braced firmly on her lower back, I curled a finger beneath her chin. I searched her eyes. I needed certainty. I needed her. “Say you’ll bear my name and be my Valentine every year for forever. Marry me, Daisy.”

  She sat unmoving.

  My heart pounded in my chest; I teetered on the edge, waiting with bated breath for her reply. I’d never wanted someone, something, so bad, but some things you couldn’t just take. It didn’t mean it didn’t belong to you though.

  And she belonged to me.

  —

  Daisy

  I never expected a marriage proposal less than two weeks after my divorce was finalized. It wasn’t conventional. It went against everything society taught you. You only moved this fast if you were knocked up, which I wasn’t. It went against everything common sense said. You couldn’t fall in love, true love, this fast. Yet I had. I’d fallen in love with Cupid.

  He was so formal, so solemn. It took work to loosen his tie, but when it came off, his smile never ceased to send my heart into a flutter and my soul into a twirl. He was a pillar of strength and knowledge. He was reliable and dependable, but not safe in a boring way. He complimented me perfectly. Damn you, Cupid.

  I rolled my lips together, making him sweat just a little. Like Brad, he was patient, but they both always cracked eventually. “Ask me again.”

  His gaze held me. “Will you marry me?”

  My lips curled, my cheeks squished my eyes as my heart officially surrendered its key. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.” I kissed him hard and fast, exactly the way I’d fallen for him.

  “You’re going to be the death of me. You had me shaking like a damn leaf in the wind.”

  “Don’t start shaking until you have to apply for a black card to pay for my ring.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “You’re worth it.”

  I slapped his chest.

  He laughed, grabbing my hand. “I said you’re worth it.”

  “Are you crazy? You should know by now that I like to look at high end but not own it. I’d be guilt ridden into eternity. Plus, I’d rather have a modest ring and a bigger wardrobe.” I winked at him.

  “As long as no man can miss it from a mile away.”

  “You that worried?” I teased, nibbling the edge of his mouth.

  “I’m that possessive. I’m not Brad. That ring will mean you’re unavailable and not looking.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. After all, what woman can say she caught Cupid with his own arrow?”

  He slapped my ass hard, the sound reverberating; my ass stung in its wake.

  I grin against him, kissing his cheek. “It was too easy.”

  “So is this.” He seized my lips, possessing my mouth. His tongue tangled with mine, luring me into him. He was a sweet addiction.

  His hands molded to my ass, squeezing and tugging me against his erection.

  I moaned against his lips. I hated breaking away. “You’re gonna have to save that for dessert later. I’ve got phone calls to make.”

  “For the new line?” he asked.

  “And to announce my new engagement.” I know I was beaming. “I can already hear Brad’s ‘I knew it.’ And I’m warning you now, the first thing my mom is going to ask is when she’s getting a grandchild. It’s hell being an only child sometimes.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Which part?” I rubbed my cheek against his day old stubble. It looked so damn good on him.

  “All of it, so long as I have you.”

  I jerked back like I’d been slapped. I cut my eyes at him. “Now you’re just kissing my fanny.”

  “You’re too good.” He feigned upset.

  “I’ll catch you every time.” I tightened my hold on him.

  “And I’ll catch you every time.” I didn’t miss his double meaning.

  I frowned, airing my disapproval. “Did those lines ever work on women?”

  “All the time.”

  “Pussies.” I snickered.

  He bit back a grin. “Get moving before I tie you down and take what I want.”

  I angled my head, studying him for a moment. “Now that I believe.”

  He gave me confidence. He complimented me. He made me believe all Brad had said before.

  For once, all the pieces fit together. I didn’t feel like I was missing anything. I finally had love, passion and happiness. Every woman, with or without excessive curves, should be so lucky.

  —

  *****

  — The End —

  *****

  —

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

  Christin Lovell was born and raised in Charleston, SC, but now lives in the hottest place on earth: Orlando, FL. She has three beautiful children who keep her running non-stop, but would love to adopt a few more. When she’s not juggling life and kids, you'll find her huddled away somewhere writing her next book or happily reading someone else's. Like most authors she’s come across, she’s a coffee addict, owns far too many books than she can fit on her shelves, and she goes to work in her pajamas a lot.

  CONNECT WITH HER HERE:

  www.christinlovell.com

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorchristinlovell

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/christinlovell OR @christinlovell

  Instagram: http://instagram.com/christinlovell

  —

  *****

  — />
  And now, please enjoy this sneak peek at the second book in the popular Alpha Doms series: Controlled Desires.

  CONTROLLED DESIRES

  As a plus size woman in a world where size matters, Sara didn’t think she would find someone to love her full frame…

  Until her new landlord stopped by.

  Desi scented his mate for over a week before he went to her. It was unusual for a wolf to be mated to a human. But with one look at nature’s chosen one for him, he was in love.

  If his mate won’t let go of her inhibitions though, this alpha will have to take control. Not that he minds...

  —

  Controlled Desires

  Chapter One

  SARA

  It’d been a long week at work, despite working only three days due to the Thanksgiving holiday. I gathered my purse, threw on my jacket, scarf and gloves and shut down the computer at my workstation in the same minute.

  “You leaving, Sara?” Dr. Rahmad asked as he stepped into the front office area of the practice.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He smiled pleasantly, his peppered grey beard feathering outwards. “Have a good holiday.”

  “Don’t stay too late. Your wife wants you home before her parents arrive,” I said, reminding the work-a-holic doctor of his priorities.

  “Good call. Thank you.” He froze, folder in hand, as if to consider what case files he could try to squeeze in before he needed to leave.

  “See you Monday.” I waved and headed for the door.

  “Bye.” He carelessly tossed the word over his shoulder, his mind deep in another layer of work already.

  I tossed my purse onto the passenger seat of my car as I slid into the driver’s spot; I immediately started the engine and blasted the heat. It was only November, but we’d had below average temperatures for this time of year. I waited for my windshield to defrost and my body to stop shaking before I took the wheel.

  It was already after 4 p.m. when I pulled out of the parking lot. Traffic was nearly non-existent since most businesses closed early the day before a holiday. I would have left with the rest of the office staff at noon when we closed, but decided to finish scanning all of the old records into our new electronic filing system.