by M. R. Joseph
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
EPILOGUE
LUCA & LEIGHTON’S SOUNDTRACK
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To Christopher, the love of my life. For loving me, trusting me, accepting all my faults, and just letting me be who I am. For supporting me In this venture, because It would not have been possible without you. Thank you for being my soul mate, a wonderful father, and for making me laugh every, single day of my life. Thanks for being at that party 20 years ago, standing up, introducing yourself, and shaking my hand, for not laughing when I sang to you with my eyes tightly closed, and for making the rest history. I dedicate this book to you for giving me my “Happily Ever After”.
He’s stepping up to the pitcher’s mound. The one who my heart adores. The one I dream about every night. His dark skin and dark eyes coming into my line of sight. I can see him perfectly, and let’s face it, the word perfect fits him to a T. His white and red uniform hugs his perfect form. His arms are bare from the elbow down, revealing his bronzed forearms. His baseball pants hug his legs and ass just enough that his muscles are defined and I can’t look away.
I hide under my own baseball cap and oversized sunglasses. I can’t remove them for fear if I stare, he may sense me looking at him. But let’s be serious, he doesn’t even know someone as simple as me exists. He looks nervous knowing he is under scrutiny. Every college from coast to coast is here to scout him out. He is known as a power arm, an ace of a staff, a true phenom. A once in a generation prospect. I have been to exactly forty eight of the games he has pitched for in the past 3 years. It never grows old. I never get tired of watching his craft. His tall, lean body standing there in front of hundreds of people. I don’t see them; I don’t hear them. I only see him. My love, my passion. No one knows I feel this way about him because I’m guarded with my feelings. If only I had the confidence to go up to him and profess my love for him, to him, a weight would be lifted for keeping my feelings hidden for so long.
Oh, wow! Strike one! Two more to go, my Italian stallion on the mound. Stop it, Leighton. He’s not yours and never will be. You are just the quiet girl in school who is the editor of the school newspaper and president of the young authors’ club. I wouldn’t say I’m nerdy. I’d say I am, well, ordinary. I have my core group of friends whom I have known practically all my life. They have no idea my true feelings for the boy on the pitcher’s mound.
The one who picked up my books for me and helped me up after some dumb jock knocked me over in the hallway and kept walking. I remember looking down on the ground, too embarrassed to look up, then a finger lifted my chin and when I looked up, there was Luca. Smiling at me and asking me if I was ok. All I could do was nod my head. He grabbed my books in one hand and offered me his other. I finally looked deep into his eyes. The contrasts of warm hues of brown, sent shivers to my soul. His dark skin, his dark thick hair flopping on his fore head, and full lips, parting to reveal a set of perfect white teeth . I remember Luca saying to me, “Are you ok? People can be such jerks. Here, let me help you up.” He was polite, he didn’t leave me there, he looked genuinely displeased at my appearance on the floor below him. Luca wasn’t one to discriminate against others. Band people, art people, pot heads, chess club people, no matter who, he was always kind to all of them. Being as popular as he was, this personality surprises me. I had seen him in my Biology class, sitting across the room, being a model student. I would try not to stare when the teacher called on him, but it was damn near impossible. We had a few interactions in class but never anything like lab partners. Val Kelly, the head cheerleader, seemed to always wind up being his partner. I secretly wished her long, luxurious hair would catch on fire from a Bunsen burner, she’d go bald and her Ra-Ra cheerleading career would go bye bye. Luca would take one look at her, and run screaming. Seeing him up this close was much different than sitting four rows away from him, or passing him in the halls. His voice was soft when he spoke but deeper on the side of impending manhood. When I took his hand, my body did things that frightened me. My heart raced, my palms perspired, and somewhere else had an unfamiliar feeling. I felt an aching, a longing, a need for him to touch me more. I felt it from the top of my head, to the tips of my toes. How can a body react to just the slightest touch. I’ve kissed boys before and they have touched me in places, I’m not going to say where, but this feeling is like no other. I felt like I was spiraling out of control. Momentarily, I had no idea who I was. I wanted to feel it again, and again, for the rest of my existence. He had asked if we were in any classes together and told him Biology, he looked surprised, most likely from there being no recollection of me being in the same class. He walked me to my next class that day, making sure I was ok, if I needed anything. That was May, and for the next few weeks after that he would wave hi to me, but he never asked my name.
Oh, here we go again! Strike two! Way to go tall, dark, and luscious. God, look at his ass in those pants. The way his muscles flex and tighten makes me cross my legs tightly for relief. Have mercy on my soul dear Lord for I am lustful and needy, and it’s all because of this boy. I have to stop thinking this way. It will never be the way I want it and he will never know how I feel. He and his cronies would laugh in my face if I told him I was in love with him, since the freaking tenth grade. The way I feel right now, I don’t think there could be another who could lead my heart away from Luca, and I don’t think there ever could be.
I think of thee!-my thoughts do twine and bud, About thee, as wild vines.
Why does my head automatically go to Browning? I wish I had the balls Elizabeth did. She wrote some good shit. Maybe I can let him know the way I feel about him without him even knowing it’s me. Some of the greatest poets did it. Poe, Shelley, Plath, Byron. They kicked ass and took names. I can do this. I can pour my heart and soul out to him and then that way no one gets hurt. I can release these feelings to the boy I love without the fear of him rejecting me or my heart. He can choose to read, or to throw away. This is all I can do. This is what I know. I write.
And… strike three! Oh, how I wish I was that ball in his mitt. His big, strong hand and fingers caressing every inch of my burning skin. Oh, God Leighton. Cut the crap. Never. Going. To. Happen.
I’ll just do what I do best. Tell the story. My story, to him. He will never know it’s me. I’m a no one. Just another plain Jane face in the crowd. At least I can take with me the knowledge that he read them. He read my words. The words that are only meant for him and only him. Time to grow a set and write my letters to Luca.
Could there be anything better than waking up beside this man? I think not. I love how I can feel his hardness
against my back side. I love feeling his arm around me, holding me. His scent is crisp and clean like a summer’s day. What in the hell am I thinking? This is so not a commercial for a feminine hygiene product. It’s Michael. I cannot wait till he moves in and we can be together all the time. It’s so close I can almost taste it. Oh and I will taste something as soon as he opens those gorgeous eyes. I can just picture it now, waking up together, getting ready for work, us carpooling since we work at the same company, him giving me a chaste kiss in the elevator before we go off to our respected offices. Then we eat lunch together, go home, cook, eat, watch a movie maybe, then head off to the bedroom to do what we do best. Sounds perfect and it will happen, as soon as his divorce is final. Michael stirs in my bed and starts to nudge me with his hard front. I love it when he groans like that. It’s sexy and I’ll never tire of hearing it. His lips graze my shoulder and he begins to move his hips into me in a circular motion, fully awaking all my systems.
“Good morning to you and Mr. Woodchuck,” I say seductively. Yes, that’s the name I gave his penis. I know it’s not romantic but Michael and I are far from that. We don’t make love, never have. We fuck and it’s wild, and free, and liberating.
“Mr. Woodchuck would like to come out and play in your hot, wet pussy. Can he, please?” Michael pleads to me and fuck if I don’t love how filthy, dirty his mouth is during sex. It’s been like that since day one. We were always attracted to each other. We had worked together for almost a year and at the office Christmas party, well let’s just say that was my first introduction to Mr. Woodchuck. We were drunk that night. After that, oh it was on. We would pretend to work late nights just so we could fuck in either his office or mine. After a few weeks, I found out he was married and I stopped the whole thing. I could never do that to someone, steal another woman’s man. I have morals. Well, to a certain extent I do.
I am no longer the shy, “plain Jane” I was in high school. I’m smart, strong, and powerful. I’m living my dream. I live in this fantastic Center City, Philadelphia high rise apartment, I drive a nice car, I have a wardrobe of designer clothes, and the perfect job or jobs. I’m an editor for Philadelphia’s premier out and about magazine. My other job, well that’s the one that’s the dream come true. I write romance novels. I began writing them 3 years ago and I self-published my work but never told a soul I did so. Not my parents, not my best friends, not my brother, no one. Finally, I grew some and told my boss what I was doing. My boss, Katherine, knows all sorts of people in the publishing world so I gave her my manuscripts and she took them to several publishing friends of hers. I was signed to a book deal two months later.
Brianna Maxwell. Yep, that’s my pen name to secure my privacy. I’d like to keep it that way too. Just Katherine and I know who I really am. The book sales are absolutely the most shocking thing of all, with my latest book hitting number eight on the New York Times Best Sellers list. The money is outrageous. I give Katherine a small cut of my sales since she is the one who helped me out in the first place. There have been four books in the series so far and according to my publisher, they are the ‘next big thing’.
I feel Michael nudge between my thighs and I feel the head of his cock enter my naked wetness. I move my legs a little to give him better access as he pushes inward more.
“Oh yes, baby. That pussy of yours is so hot and tight.”
“Oh, Michael. I love it when you talk to me like that. Don’t stop. Please.” I love the feeling of him inside me. He’s like an animal. I’m like and animal. It’s primal. That’s the only word to describe our sex life.
“My God, Leighton, you are so fucking hot. You like that when I fuck you so hard you forget who you are?”
Yes, please!
“Yes, don’t stop, baby. Deeper. Oh, mercy!”
Michael is hands down the best lover I have ever had. Believe me, once I came out of my shell, and completely made myself over with the help of my college roommate Kenzie, I had zero problems getting laid. I may have been twenty when I lost it, but the important thing is I’m so making up for lost time. I’m not a slut per say, but guys are attracted to me.
Over fall break junior year at Penn State, Kenzie and I decided enough was enough. We were tired of sitting in every weekend, watching Beaches and stuffing our faces with Gummy Bears. We had a nice group of friends but we were all English majors who spent more time with Virginia Woolf, and Hemingway than we did experiencing the real college life, drinking and getting laid. We wanted both of those things. Kenzie was already pretty, she just wanted to turn it up a notch.
Kenzie and I went for new haircuts, shopped for new wardrobes, and headed to Victoria’s Secret for some new “inspirational” undergarments, just in case. My new haircut consisted of getting my mousy brown locks straightened, and the color changed to a dark, dark brown, with soft subtle, contrasting highlights. My eyebrows are now two perfectly shaped arches, instead of one. We had gone to one of the makeup counters at the mall, and the sales girl helped us pick out blushes, eye shadows, and lipsticks that would go nicely with our skin tones and new hair color. We spent hours during that break trying out different color combinations, and hair styles on one another. We mixed and matched our new clothes and believe it or not, when all was said and done, we looked pretty damn good. I loved my new shoulder length hair cut, and my new makeup colors compliment my greenish colored eyes and newly separated eye brows. After that, getting laid was a piece of cake.
That first night after we made ourselves over, we decided to go to one of the frat houses on campus. The attention we received was nothing less than awesome, a real confidence booster. My first time was two nights later with a guy named Steve. It wasn’t all that bad. I was drunk so if there really was any pain, I didn’t feel it. Who would have thought a haircut, new makeup, clothes, and manicured eyebrows would get you to lose your virginity. Not this former plain Jane.
Kenzie and I made friends quickly, and even joined a sorority later that fall.
For the love of God and all that is sacred and holy, this man can fuck like no one’s’ business. He is almost there, I can feel it and I don’t want him to stop but if we don’t, we both will be late for work.
“Here I come baby, get ready. Oh shit, Leighton!”
He pumps into me a few more times and I feel him explode inside me. He kisses my shoulder, pulls out quickly, gets out of bed and goes to take a shower. He isn’t a cuddlier and that’s fine. When he is here in my apartment, he doesn’t usually hang around after sex. He runs the marketing department of the magazine where we work, so I know how demanding his job is. He works out of his friend’s house all hours of the night and usually on the weekends, so we don’t see each other that often. It’s usually during the week. He comes over after work, sometimes he stays over, but usually he has work to do so we eat dinner, have sex, then he leaves. I cannot wait till his bitch of a wife signs those damn papers and I finally get my happily ever after. It’s been way too long. I wasted so much time pining over one person my whole life, one who didn’t even know I existed. Sometimes I could smack myself when I think of what I did to try and win his love. But he never knew it was me, and he never will.
Damn it! Someone just slammed that door again. This is getting ridiculous. I have already had it fixed three times in the past month. I swear someone is going to get knocked out by it and sue me. I should just get a new damn door. I think I may need to put the air conditioning on. May can get pretty hot around here.
I think someone’s here. It better be Adrianna. If she’s late one more time, I’m deducting from her pay. I could give a shit less if she’s my sister. I own this place now, it’s mine, and my rules. She better not go running to Papa and telling him if I decide to go that route. She’s so irresponsible when it comes to work. I on the other hand, have no choice in the matter. I have to get ready for the summer season. This place is insane in June, July, and August. The baseball team for the high school I coach is wrapping up. We went undefeated and I’m pretty
proud of that. I love coaching ball for my Alma-mater. It’s actually an honor that I’ll do forever. It wouldn’t have been my first choice of course, but these are the cards I was dealt, so I just go with it. Fucking elbow. I will curse it till the day I die, but I have made my peace with it. It was fate. I’m a big believer in fate.
“Is that you, Adrianna?”
“It’s me. I’m not late so don’t go tattling on me to Papa.”
“I wasn’t going to do that. I’m the boss, remember? Besides, your Papa’s princess and you can do no wrong.”
She chuckles at me.
“Ok, golden boy, if you say so.”
Adrianna is still dressed in her dance attire. She is a senior at a dance academy in Salisbury. Usually she dances in New York in the summers, but since she is a senior, she won’t be doing that anymore. Once she graduates and has her degree, in the fall she will be off on auditions. For now, she’s here waitressing for me at Lucky’s.
Lucky’s is, or was, my dad’s place before his massive heart attack. Luciano Ferro. That’s my Papa. Best guy I know. Since I blew out my elbow and my career in the majors ceased to exist, I have been running this place. I guess life has a strange way of working itself out.
When I was a senior in high school, I was drafted, but I wanted to go to college. I needed a degree to fall back on, and thank God I did. I majored in business and played ball for the University of Miami. Junior year I blew out my elbow. I had Tommy John surgery which I thought was successful, but senior year, it happened again. Another surgery followed and proved to be unsuccessful. Sucks to be me, right? You could say that. The only thing that got me through those dark times were the letters. The letters from the woman that could possibly be love of my life, and I have no idea who she is. The letters that turned me into a man who looked at things from a new perspective.
