The Sweetest Fling (A Stupid Cupid Book)

by Amber Scott

  Claire grinned at the soft scold and let her head thunk against the door. She shoved her hips to meet his, willing his hand to move closer. He hesitated, his eyes light with mischief. His thumb trailed up her inner thigh. One finger lifted the hem of her panties.

  Click, click, clack. “Jace?” Helen Fletcher voice carried down the hall from the stairs.

  “Sheesh,” Jace said, his hand going still. He looked down at Claire clearly debating whether or not to stop. Claire’s body clamored so close to the edge, a few small gyrations, a press of his hand and she would explode on the spot. But she kept still, her eyes on Jace, the intensity in his eyes leaving her a little more breathless.

  The click-clacks drew closer. Helen called out again. The clicks stopped. Claire’s body seemed to get even wetter, even hotter, at the anticipation and risk of being caught. She didn’t want to stop.

  Jace smiled wickedly, moving slowly--achingly slowly--in and out of her. Claire gasped, bit her lip again, and leaned into the sweet pleasure.

  The clicking stopped. Silence wrapped around them, amplifying Claire’s panted breaths, the moist sound of her sex as Jace slipped a finger in and demanded her climax forth.

  Claire gasped, bit into her hand to stop the moan rippling up her throat from coming out. Yes, oh yes, ohhhh God... Her body quaked, her knees buckled as climax swept through her limbs.

  “Jace?” Helen Fletcher voice was distant and insistent.

  Quickly, Jace withdrew his hand, leaving a satisfied throbbing behind. Claire dropped her skirts, panic rising, competing with the flush of vibration from her climax. What had she been thinking? What would Helen say?

  “In here, Mom,” Jace answered and kissed Claire before opening the door.

  Claire could have socked him in the shoulder, but fighting to smooth her features and calm her body before her future mother-in-law raised both brows higher than the Alps took over.

  “There you two are.” Helen stepped into the shadowed room and smiled tightly at her son. “They’re about to cut the cake and toss the bouquet. You don’t want to miss that, now do you?”

  Jace and Claire obediently chimed, “No,” and, “Of course not.”

  “We’ll be down in a minute. I just wanted to show Claire my high school yearbook picture real quick. She bet me that I didn’t look like the school’s biggest nerd next to Tyler.”

  Claire took her cue. “Oh, please. Everyone in high school does. But, I can’t believe that you ever had an ugly duckling stage.”

  “Oh, Jace,” Helen chuckled. “Do you mean that braces picture? The one with that unfortunate haircut?” She turned to Claire. “Twins. One of them always wants to look different then gets mad when they aren’t the exact same. I swear.”

  “Unfortunate? She buzzed half of it clean off.” Jace took hold of Claire’s hand, sending a tingle of warmth up her arm. The flight of butterflies in her belly quieted and for possibly the millionth time in their last year together, wonder whispered around her.

  “It grew back in a week,” Helen teased, winking at Claire. “Right after we got photographic evidence.”

  She’d been so thoroughly welcomed into the Fletcher fold that her own family’s coldness became bearable. Her parents were coming around, though. Slowly. Very, very slowly. Once the wedding cancellation storm blew over and the summer months allowed people to find other things to gossip about, Christmas this year had only been a lot awkward.

  She didn’t imagine her mother would ever almost walk in on the two of them only to make a joke. Or be able to joke with Jace about anything, but maybe a dinner without excruciating silence and disappointed head shaking could be in their future.

  All of it, the gossip, the embarrassment, the dress she had no place to wear to. All of it was worth this. She had Jace. Even Oliver seemed happier. That woman, Trina, and he were still dating. And Claire had long forgiven him for being...well...him.

  “He really was a bit of a mess that year,” Helen was saying, and reached out and squeezed her arm affectionately. “But it was my fault. Tyler had his braces off first. And I wouldn’t let him get his braces off until the summer.” Laughter—and love—danced in her eyes. “I just wasn’t ready to see both my babies grow up, I suppose.”

  “So you admit it then,” Jace teased, following his mother out the door. “You butchered my hair on purpose.”

  Helen’s laughter echoed down the hall and carried with them down the stairs. “No, no. Not at all. I never claimed to be a hairdresser. But you insisted. Convenient how he forgets that part, Claire, but true enough anyway.” She let out a sigh as they reached the bottom stair. “One day you two will know. One day, you will have a baby. And then, mark my words, you will know.”

  Claire couldn’t help herself. She hugged the older woman, unable to speak past the well of emotion lumping in her throat. But then, she didn’t need to.

  Tyler’s voice trickled above the chatter of the reception guests. By the sound of things, he was lifting a toast to his bride. They hurried out the French doors and grabbed glasses of champagne from the nearest server.

  “I just want to say thank you to my family. To my sister Ashley for having a baby on Anne’s last shift. To my parents for all their patience and support over the years. And to Jace, for helping me open my eyes so that I could actually see the most amazing woman on this earth then meet her.”

  Claire raised her glass, clinked it with Jace’s and could only hope that all she felt, every last cent of the wealth of love she felt for him, showed in her eyes. Because words could not cover it. Not seven years ago when she fell head over heels in love with this man and not now.

  Jace’s eyes shone, too. His hand shook hers, and he nodded at Claire. Yeah. Then. Now. He knew it, too. This kind of love was the very sweetest life had to ever offer.

  **

  “Just a little bit higher,” Millie called down.

  AJ lifted his laced hands a little higher, grunting. “What is with this family and their backyard weddings?”

  “I know, right?” She’d be the last to admit it, but she found it rather cute. The cinderblock wall she peered over gritted under her nails which made her scalp itch with irritation. But the view was worth it. “Okay.”

  “So I can let go?”

  “No!” He shifted her another inch up. Millie scanned the party for Ashley, who she missed most. From her bossypants ways to all her pregnancy quirks. She wasn’t pregnant anymore. She was chasing around a curly headed girl and looked to be loving every second of toddler mischief. “Just one more minute.”

  She found the groom, Tyler, arm around his bride. She still thought she deserved credit for Tyler’s match. Her truth serum was what brought him out of the fog and into the light of his life—Ashley’s post partum nurse.

  But with all the fuss matching Claire and Jace caused in Karma Court, why push it?

  “I’m getting a hand cramp, Millicent,” AJ said, but there was too much tease in his voice to be taken seriously.

  “I just need to see how Claire...” looked.

  There on the small parquet dance floor, under the twinkle of strung lights—this time Chinese lanterns—danced Jace and Claire. Her breath caught a bit. A spot in her chest tugged. It was the night they’d met all over again. Only this time Millie got to see it with open eyes.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m ready.”

  AJ lowered her to the ground. Millie wiped her cheeks before any of her make-up smudged. She had an engagement party to get to and mascara cheeks wouldn’t do.

  “How do they look?” AJ asked, nodding his head toward the car.

  She bumped her shoulder to his as they walked. “Stinking happy.”

  He reached down and for a heartbeat, Millie thought he would take her hand in his. He didn’t. He grazed her hand then took her by the wrist, holding it up high. The two bracelets jangled up her arm as he shook it. “Five down,” he said, his gaze holding to hers.

  Yep.

  Two to go.

 
~~~

  Acknowledgments

  This book would not be possible without the faithful help and encouragement from my writer family. In particular, Carolyn McCray, Ann Charles, Kelli McCracken and Elena Gray. My deep gratitude and thanks go to each. Also, thanks to my Indie Book Collective family who have helped my books meet such amazing success.

  I have the best fans in the world. To the HOT Club, thank you so much from the bottom of my heart. You are helping my dreams come true. Plus, you all are SO much fun!

  Last but not least, thanks to my husband who has unwavering faith in me and to my children who have learned to share me with the voices in my head.

  ~~~

  Sneak Peek

  Fierce Dawn

  By Amber Scott

  Prologue

  Sadie Graves did not have time for this. But the fear shimmering in her sister Heather’s eyes sent guilt pinging through her. “What did she say?” Sadie asked, setting her backpack on her bed before flopping down next to it.

  “It was bad this time, Sadie,” Heather repeated. “Real bad. It isn’t just end-of-the-world stuff anymore. She’s chanting about her daughters, about angels and vampires.”

  Sadie rolled her eyes despite the dread clutching her belly. “I know she’s getting worse, Heather. But I don’t know what to do. You want me to get her committed or something? She’s our mother. I can’t live with that.”

  “What about Aunt Molly?” Heather tugged at her ponytail, worrying the tips of her long hair.

  Sadie hated that she didn’t have a better answer. One of them at least deserved a childhood. A sixteen and fifteen year old girl should be worried about boys and driving lessons not self-mutilation and social services. “Aunt Molly knows. I told her. She has her hands full already with Jen.” Jen, who was waiting for Sadie as they spoke. “Just make sure she doesn’t get a hold of scissors again. I promise I’ll be back before she wakes up.”

  Slinging her backpack over one shoulder, Sadie stood to leave out the window, recognizing the revving engine outside as her cousin’s signal to hurry the hell up. Heather stood as well, her pajama hand me downs too big on her young, slim form. She dug under her pillow and shoved a book into Sadie’s hands.

  “What’s this?”

  “What do you think? It’s Mom’s. She tried burying it in the backyard. I dug it up.”

  “Heather, she does this. She always has. I know it sucks, but you have to realize it’s nothing but words scribbled on paper.”

  “Just read it, okay? Read it and tell me it isn’t different this time.”

  Sadie glanced at the window, but seeing the urgency in Heather’s stance, dropped to her bed once again. Jen and the club would have to wait. Wouldn’t be the first time little sis did whatever she could to stop a good sneak out.

  She paged through the journal, pausing at certain passages.

  “…three realms. He will come for my girls. Wings to steal them and use them…”

  Alright, so the tone of her mother’s written mania had evolved a little.

  “…more than blood that’s a drug. Sorrows and sorrows….Feeding off souls and leaving shells behind….All the stories come true….three becoming two….hide the Book…hide the book….the Book….”

  “She thinks she’s a prophet,” Heather said in a near whisper.

  “And we know she’s not.” The heartache pinched her chest and burned her throat. “I don’t know what you want from me, Heather. I can’t do this. I’m sorry, okay? But in a couple of years we can get jobs and keep her safe and have some kind of life that is normal. Until then, we have to stick it out.” Or go insane as well. “Okay?”

  Heather’s sense of betrayal showed in her intense gaze and crossed arms. Sadie knew the look, the same one from every time Sadie had played with someone else as a child or didn’t want to share a toy. Only this was worse. This, she honestly deserved. But Sadie couldn’t stay. If she stayed, she’d go nuts worrying about what to do. And how would that help?

  It wouldn’t, she told herself again and again as she eased out the window and sprinted through the shadows to Jen’s car. It wouldn’t help.

  Nothing would.

  ~~~

  Chapter One

  A shiver of wariness raced under Elijah Stokes’ skin. The compass’s needle spun erratically, finding no energetic trace of Lyric’s positioning. “Why would Lyric be cloaking?” he asked Holly, who sat to his right pretending to read. “Moreover, who would be helping him cloak?”

  Holly put down the horror novel. Elijah ran his thumb over the gold-framed face before snapping the contraption shut. It fell with a thud against his chest, its chain jangling in the quiet of the library. He sensed danger coming, but couldn’t be sure his senses were on target.

  “Trust me, if Lyric needs help, cloaking or otherwise, he’ll still know how to get it. Going rogue probably improved his skills.” Holly’s eyebrows furrowed. “And as for why, maybe he doubts how welcome he’ll be?”

  “More like how useful,” Elijah said. Lyric could be the danger. Or Elijah could simply be biased from their past. “And more likely evading Enforcers.”

  “Well, useful, evading or not, he’ll be here. He promised me.”

  Elijah glared at Holly. If they weren’t in a public—a mortal—place, Elijah would react to the reminder that she’d contacted Lyric behind his back. But if he unleashed his irritation here, the handful of humans studying nearby would pick up on the violent energy.

  If Lyric didn’t have enforcement on his heels, an energy surge could snare some unwelcome immortal attention on its own.

  What if the danger he sensed wasn’t related to Lyric at all?

  “Hate me later,” Holly said, crossing her arms, making the plastic chair groan. “After Lyric gets here and proves I’m right about Sadie.”

  “You should have waited to summon him. We agreed to wait.” He inverted his magnetism, along with his wings, again to be certain he and Holly blended in.

  Holly took the text Elijah had already scanned, their latest dead end. “We put off summoning Lyric long enough. We’re out of options, Elijah. If I don’t find Crusoe….”

  “Not you, Holly. We.” A girl bent over a medical reference manual two tables away glanced their way, her interest clearly resonating. Elijah exhaled an indrawn breath, keeping his energy even keel. “We’ll find him, Holly. I swear it. We will.”

  Holly’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. The worry in her words showed in her dark hair licking blue flames out the tips. Her fingers sparked at every touch. She wasn’t herself. The wear of stress over Crusoe’s disappearance showed.

  Crusoe was more than a friend. More than their leader. He was like a brother to Elijah.

  “Sadie’s work shift started two minutes ago. But I haven’t seen her. Can you locate her?” Holly asked.

  Elijah retrieved his compass, this time focusing on the human girl Holly had honed in on. The dial showed Sadie’s signature energy immediately approaching the building. Elijah concentrated on signs of Lyric again, asking the compass with his own energy. The needle spun aimlessly.

  "When did you contact him?" Elijah said, hearing the edge in his voice. His frustration went beyond feeling he’d failed Holly and Crusoe. Working with Lyric again, after what had fallen between them, after the lifestyle the feeder had taken to since, left Elijah cold.

  "Four days ago," Holly said, her gaze wavering. The flames in her hair licked higher. She smoothed the locks, but attraction for him emanated off of her. Her stress must be making her vulnerable to his ability to attract immortals and humans alike, like bees to honey.

  Elijah tried to invert his magnetism further. Lust between friends sounded like a new layer of Hell neither of them needed at this point. Plus, the glancing girl was beginning to stare.

  Holly had sent for Lyric four days ago. They were running out of time. Crusoe had been gone hundreds more than just four days.

  "Elijah, I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m on the verge of b
elieving Crusoe is truly gone.” She took a shuddering breath. “Dead. I’ll go crazy if we wait any longer. Not if Lyric can help."

  “I know.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “When will he get here?"

  Her hair sparked but Holly didn't answer. She didn't have to. Elijah heard the feeder's approach, recognized his vibration’s pitch. “Nevermind.” He examined the compass. Speak of the energy sucker. Lyric looked to be within a mile of the building, skyward. His pulse hitched.

  He hadn’t seen Lyric in more than a year and the last time had been ugly. The last thing Elijah wanted was a spectacle. Would the feeder still be volatile?

  "How much does Lyric know?" He kept his voice low and his energy even keel. The smattering of mortals present wasn’t evolved enough to detect flames and wings, but violence and danger were palpable to any human brain.

  "The barest bones. That Crusoe is still missing. That we are still trying to find him. That we need him. I haven’t told him about Sadie yet if that’s what you’re worried about."

  Elijah absorbed what she said. And the implications. Though Lyric had left them before Crusoe’s disappearance, he doubtlessly heard of Crusoe being linked to the Illeautians and their anti-human activity.

  He honed in on Sadie, who was in the building, coming up the elevator. Was it her? Was she in danger? He was far from a messenger and would never claim to have that kind of prescient power, yet his gut was warning him of something. “We can’t meet him here. If he really has been blood using, even if not, he could give in and feed off her energy just for a fix.”

  He hated the very thought that his former friend and teammate had gone vampire. Blood addiction might be the scariest, most devastating downfall Elijah had ever witnessed for any immortal. And in a hundred years of hunting criminal immortals, he’d seen plenty.