by Magan Vernon
"We can always just cuddle..." he whispered.
I locked my eyes with his and the devious smirk on his face. I was on the brink of eruption just from a few kisses and there was no way in hell I was going to make it without something happening.
He moved his thumb from my thighs to my center and there was a tiny amount of pressure then holy hell. I didn’t know what he was doing down there but my legs shook and every hair on my body stood on end.
With his eyes locked on mine, he moved his lips down to my center and swiped his tongue in a smooth line before he spread my legs and made long strokes with his tongue.
Holy. Hell.
The combination of his hot breath, twirling fingers, and that tongue was enough to have me gripping the sheets. I curved my knees slightly arching my back into him as he moaned into my center and that was all it took for my body to explode. I cried out before I sunk back into the sheets.
He kept moving his expert hands and tongue, making me thing that this guy could really get an gold medal in anything. I had to bite down hard on my bottom lip as another orgasm took hold of me.
“Jay. I. Want. You. In. Me.” I was barely able to get the words out between heated breaths.
He slowly pulled away from my core and kissed a line up to my belly button. I whimpered slightly as he moved his hands to my thighs. “What was that, Lia? I didn’t hear you?” he asked with a smirk on his face.
I huffed. “Jay Morningstar if you don’t take my virginity right now I may scream.”
“Yeah, you just did that a few times.”
I blushed, for the first time not able to come back with a snappy retort.
He laughed, shaking his head and reaching over to his nightstand, pulling out a box. I widened my eyes, looking at probably the biggest box of condoms I’d ever seen.
"Since when did you get condoms?" I asked.
"Since the first night I had you in my room and couldn't stop thinking about it."
I swallowed hard, looking up at him as he pulled out one of the foil packets and ripped it open before sliding it on his hard length.
He hovered over me, putting his hands on either side of my hips.
“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he whispered in a low, husky tone.
I did as I was told, hooking my feet low on his back.
He ran his finger down my core again before pressing into me. I'd never felt so much pleasure and so much pain at the same time.
"Is this okay, baby? Tell me to stop and I will," he whispered as he filled me completely.
He rocked his hips forward slowly at first, taking away the pressure and leaving only an amazing amount of pleasure. Holy hell this was why people had sex.
My back involuntarily arched into him and he moaned, rocking harder into me. The more he pushed the deeper his thrust went and I had bit down my lower lip, watching his eyes as they stayed connected with mine.
He leaned back slightly, resting all of the weight on his massive arms and pushed into me, moving his hips in a circular motion against mine.
“Fuck,” I whimpered, sitting up slightly. I wrapped my arms around his neck and burried my face into his neck, inhaling the smell of soap and still a hint of cholorine. The scent I’d grown to love on his skin.
I let go of all my preconceived notions of what had to be perfect. That I wasn't good enough for him. That I shouldn't fall too hard.
I was lost in him. Lost in love. And if this was what love was, I never wanted it to stop.
My body built up to the brink and I closed my eyes, digging my heels into his back as he rocked his hips forward to meet mine over and over again.
"Jay...I'm..I'm..." I fell back onto the bed, throwing my head back and pushing my hips to his.
It started in my toes and a full wave of pleasure flowed through me until I cried out his name, shivering underneath him.
“Look at me,” he demanded in a husky voice.
Opening my eyes, I looked to his gorgeous smile then his brilliant blue eyes. He leaned in and kissed me deeply, continuing with his thrust. Then he moved slightly so that he put the weight on his right arm and used his left to move between us and run his thumb over my sensitive flesh.
“Oh, Jay,” I moaned into his lips before falling back onto the bed, another orgasm taking hold.
Even through the latex between us I could still feel his stilling body as he finished inside of me, moaning my name before he laid on top of me.
His breathing matched mine.
Our hearts beating to the same rhthym.
I never wanted to leave that moment.
I never wanted to leave him.
Then Lady Gaga's “The Edge of Glory” started crooning from somewhere.
I raised an eyebrow and Jay leaned up, smiling and reached for phone
"It's my FaceTime notification."
My eyes widened. "Shit. Is that my mom?"
He pulled out of me and I found myself whimpering, wanting him back there.
Grabbing his phone off the dresser next to us, he turned the phone toward me.
Yep. That was Ma’s number.
"Crap. Double crap." I grabbed my shirt from the floor and threw it on. I wasn’t sure where my bra or pants were so I just pulled a blanket over me. Jay smiled and put his shirt on, sliding next to me under the blanket.
"Can I answer?" he asked.
I sighed. "I guess she'll just keep calling until you do."
He nodded and pressed "accept."
Ma's face was close up on the screen. "Rosalia! She's here! A beautiful girl! Giselle Marie Conti. Eight pounds. Two ounces. Mama and baby are doing great!"
"That's awesome! I'll be there as soon as I can."
Ma passed the phone off to someone else and started talking to my dad. Sonny's face came on the screen. "Hey, new auntie. Whoa, and hey Jay! Did we interupt you two having sex? I told Ma you two weren't answering because you were screwing but she didn't believe me."
I felt all the color drain from my face and then Sonny's forehead hit the camera. "Ow, Ma! What was that for?"
"For asking stupid questions!" she said from the side of the screen.
I laughed, shaking my head. "We'll be there soon, okay? Give my niece a kiss for me."
"Will do, sis," Sonny said and hung up the call.
I looked at Jay and raised an eyebrow. "Still want to go back to the hospital with my crazy family?"
He smiled and put his arm around me. "As long as I'm with you, Lia. The rest of the world doesn't matter. And I'm always going to be on the edge with you."
Epiloge
One year later
When your boyfriend is an Olympic swimmer and has a competition in your family's home country, your entire family plans a trip to watch said boyfriend swim.
"It's hot in here. Is anyone else hot in here?" Dana fanned herself with a program.
"I know my balls are sweating," Sonny said, fanning his crotch.
Ma smacked the back of his head. "Mama Mia, Santino, can you ever behave?"
"Nope. Especially if some of these girls in one pieces are looking for a Sicilian man that can speak English."
I rolled my eyes, but secretly smiled. Since I started at USC, I'd only seen my family at Christmas and Thanksgiving. It wasn't the ideal spring break to spend with all of them, but as long as I had Jay, I knew I could survive anything.
And, surprisingly, it was his idea to invite them and fly them out.
I assumed he would regret it after his first swim.
"So what are we supposed to do? Do we cheer? Boo against the other swimmers?" Nicky asked, holding up little Giselle who was the cutest little thing in her red, white, and blue baby sweat suit that Jay got her for Christmas.
"You just watch. Just watch and cheer when he wins gold," I said.
"Cocky about your boyfriend aren't you?" Sonny asked.
"There's a fine line between cocky and confidence and I can get both sides."
Sonny laughed, putting his arm around me.
"Damn, little sister got some balls in California, and hopefully just not holding Jay's."
Dad was the one that smacked Sonny in the back of the head that time.
Dana was the only one that knew I was staying at Jay's more than my dorm, but she was sworn to secrecy not to tell anyone.
Of course I didn't belive that for a second.
"Oh, here he goes!" I pointed to the pool and watched Jay dive off the blocks and glide through the water.
I'd seen him swim hundreds of times, whether he was practicing at the USC aquatic center or at one of his meets. Each time I held my breath and silently prayed.
I didn't stop until he finally got to the edge of the pool and the announcer boomed that America's Jay Morningstar had received gold in the 200M individual medley.
My whole family erupted in applause so loud that I swore everyone in the stadium was staring at us.
But the only eyes I cared about were Jay's, looking right at me.
I had to wait, for what seemed like forever, until he finally changed and was going to take the medal's stand.
The national anthem played and he stood there, looking at the hanging flags above.
Each one of my family members had their eyes glued to the display, but my eyes looked to Jay.
It was the first time I'd seen him nervous on the stand. He was actually shaking and kept fidgeting with his pockets, pulling his hands in and out over and over again.
When the national anthem ended, he practically jumped off the podium and didn't even shake hands with the silver and bronze medalist but made a beeline toward us.
We stood behind a small gated area, but Jay's arms were around my waist and pulled me over.
I squealed. "Jay! Are you supposed to do this?"
He laughed. "I can if I'm about to propose."
What?
I blinked once then twice and finally looked down as Jay dropped to one knee, pulling out a small black box from his pocket. "Rosalia Conti, will you stay on the edge with me?"
I stared at the large diamond sparkling from the box and then at the blue eyes of the man I was completely in love with.
"Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes!"
My family cheered from behind us and camera bulbs flashed as Jay put the ring on my finger and then hugged me, kissing each tear that fell from my face.
Jay said he would never let me cry again, but these were happy tears. The happiest.
A little over a year ago, I thought I was going to forever be a waitress at a restaurant in Texas. I never thought I'd be standing at the edge of a pool, watching a professional swimming event.
But sometimes, when you tear down walls and let people in, the most wonderful things can happen.
"You sure you want to marry me and into this family?" I nodded behind me.
Jay smiled. "For you? Anything."
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About The Author
Magan Vernon has been living off of reader tears since she wrote her first short story in 2004. She now spends her time killing off fictional characters, pretending to plot while she really just watches Netflix, and she tries to do this all while her two young children run amok around her Texas ranch.
Website: www.maganvernon.com
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Acknowledgements
First of all, thank YOU who picked up this book (and hopefully didn’t pirate it). You’ve put up with me this long and thank you for continuing to read my work.
Rachel Tiderman, thank you for pushing me to write this book and being one of the very early readers when I still didn’t know what I was doing with writing.
Kassi Snider, as soon as I saw this cover, I knew I had to have it. It is everything. I love the fonts and the swimmer and just everything you did for this story.
Adenah Killz, Thanks for performing a drag queen version of Lady Gaga’s song and inspiring the title for this book and a very important scene on an airplane o.O.
Alissa Glenn, for putting up with my obsession and countless Ryan Lochte pictures.
Anna Gorman, for editing this story and loving these characters as much as I do.
Emersyn Valis, My numero uno when it comes to trying to figure out plot points. I think if we went a day without talking, one of us would die.
CC Wood, my modeling partner. Thanks for all the continued support and pushing me to write...even though you called my man a butter face.
T-Rex, my husband, my love. Without you I would have never moved to small town Texas and discovered my love for it. You’ve helped me come up with silly names and will always be my number one.
Jamie Lee Scott, my rom com pusher! Hopefully you’ll be happy now that I cant stop writing rom com!
Chelsea M. Cameron, even though you dont like the male swimmers, you’ve always been my unending support in this crazy world.
Susan Stoker, this book would literally be nothing without you. Your swimming knowledge was invaluable and I dont know what I would do without you. I’ll forever be a #StokerStalker.
Michael Phelps, 2008 was a dark time for me and I’m happy that this book will finally bring me back to swimming instead of that night. Thank you for constantly being an inspiration.
Last but not least, Ryan Lochte. You may never read this book or this acknolwedgements. Hell, I may be on some watch list from your agent, but I want to thank you.
Your own story inspired this book and pushed me past all of those dark thoughts that took away from me loving the sport. I will forever be part of #Lochtenation and if you ever need a girl to stand on the side and hold your grill, I’m here.
Now for a special sneak peek!
Hello
Dressing a Billionaire, book 1
by
Jamie Lee Scott
© Copyright 2016, LBB company, all rights reserved.
Chapter 1
Lord, save me, for the thoughts that had skittered across my fried brain in the last seventy-plus hours. Many included murder, arson, and other felonies that came wrapped in a bow called “life without parole.”
It all started with a phone call from my boss.
“Please tell me you remembered to pack the scarves, you know Scarlett loves her scarves. I’m trusting you with this one Maisy, don’t let me down.” That was my boss, Marla Townsend screaming at me through my earbuds. Thank you California for hands-free cell phones. Marla’s voice sounded like a four year old with a huge vocabulary. Baby talk with a hint of bitch, and a lot of swearing. Worse through earbuds, and I got to hear way too much of her through earbuds.
“I told you, Marla, I’ve got this,” I said.
Fuck, I didn’t have this. Scarlett, an aging model, had issues with her turtleneck. I’m not talking sweaters here, I’m talking about neck skin. She wore scarves on even the hottest day in Los Angeles. I’d been only about five miles from her house when Marla called. The trunk show didn’t start for over an hour, and I could still get back to the agency, grab the selection and be back to Scarlett’s in time to set up for the show, and still have time to spare.
Marla didn’t want me driving my old Jetta to her client’s house, so I had her BMW. I could set up the clothes, get everything ready, and still go back for the scarves. But what if Scarlett wanted to sift through the clothes and accessories I’d brought, just to get a good look before her friends arrived?
I flipped a U-turn at the next light and floored it on the way back to Marla’s office. Marla would kill me for getting a ticket, but she’d filet me alive for forgetting the scarves. I’d be
en with her long enough to know what happens when her clients are disappointed. I’d moved into my current position as her first assistant because the last first assistant brought white shoes to a client who detested white.
I had to get from Calabasas, back to Camden Drive in Beverly Hills, and then back to Cala-basas in less than an hour. It took 45 minutes one way on a good day. Having confidence, fueled by my desire to keep my job, I made it back to the office in 26 minutes. Thank you gods, for blessedly light traffic.
Pulling into the parking lot at Townsend Studio, my heart raced. My live-in boyfriend, Miles, was there, his car parked next to mine in the lot. He’d come to see me at work, and I wasn’t there. So sweet. How could I tell him I didn’t have time for him? Hell, if Marla saw me, I might. She’d flip if she saw me grab the box of scarves after I just told her I had everything under con-trol.
Still, I smiled, since Miles rarely visited me at the studio.
As I pulled the BMW into Marla’s parking space, I looked to see if Miles had been waiting in the car for me. I didn’t see him.
I stepped out of the car, careful not to scratch my newly tanned legs. I didn’t want the bronz-er to be uneven or scratched. Marla made sure we gave a fabulous first impression, and paid for regular bronzing sessions. After all, a girl looks better with a tan.
Marla, pencil thin and perfectly tan, needed something to stand out. She sported a little boy’s body, stick skinny, not a muscle to be seen. She used clothes to stand out, and so her fashion style and sense became the talk of Southern California. She now dressed the finest and richest in the land. Since going to work for her, I did too.
I considered how my dream job as a personal stylist might be hanging by a thread if I didn’t get in and out of the studio, fast. Maybe Miles wouldn’t see me, and I could pretend I never came back.
