Protecting Her Heart

by Carter, Chance

  Protecting Her Heart

  CHANCE CARTER

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  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

  Jacked

  Lieutenant Commander Stud

  Claiming His Virgin

  Room Service

  Free Story Offer!

  PROTECTING HER HEART

  CHANCE CARTER

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  Copyright © 2017 Chance Carter

  ISBN: 978-1-77382-007-1

  Chapter 1

  “I’m glad that shit head is finally out of your life,” Luke said, taking a long swig from his beer.

  The bar was hopping tonight. There were plenty of dolled-up women hanging around hoping to meet their future husbands, swarmed by an equal number of horny blokes hoping to get laid.

  “Thanks for coming out with me tonight. I wasn’t sure whether I should be celebrating or grieving,” Emma said quietly, shrugging her shoulders.

  “Definitely celebrating,” Luke said, holding his glass up toward her, “Cheers!”

  Emma grinned at him and clinked her wine glass against his beer mug. She could always count on Luke to keep it real. Ever since high school he had been the only one she could count on to tell her the truth, no matter what it was. Sometimes he would be diplomatic, but mainly he would just tell her like it was, throwing tactfulness out the window.

  A leggy blonde sauntered by, flashing Luke her sexy smile. He nodded at her and chuckled, a cheeky grin playing on his full lips. He was sexy, a Gerard Butler type, the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. More importantly, he had swagger. As good looking as he was, it was his mischievous confidence that drew the ladies to him. He was both charming and naughty, a bad boy with a romantic streak and a healthy libido, an irresistible combination. Emma was the only woman immune to his charms, which was probably why they were the best of friends. She knew him well, probably better than anyone else.

  She shook her head, rolling her eyes at him. Luke looked at her with mock innocence and flashed her another one of his famous smiles. She balled up her napkin and threw it at him but he snagged it out of the air before it could hit him. He smirked at her, proud of his lightning-fast reflexes.

  “What?” he offered flirtatiously, shrugging his broad shoulders.

  “God, you’re such a whore,” Emma said, taking another sip of her wine.

  “You know I only have eyes for you, Mimi,” he teased, kissing the air in her direction.

  Mimi was the nickname Luke had given her when they were fourteen, and for some reason, he never outgrew it. She didn’t mind though. In fact, she kind of liked it. He used to tease her and say that Mimi was her alter ego, the playful side of herself that she kept hidden from everyone but him.

  That wasn’t far from the truth. Emma was a serious person by nature, always worried about what people thought. She was afraid to share her opinions, rock the boat, or put herself first, a perpetual people-pleaser. Not a surprise really that her narcissistic ex had been drawn to her, or why she stayed married to him for ten fucking years.

  Luke, on the other hand, was the only one she could truly be herself with. In fact, he wouldn’t put up with anything less. To say he hated her ex-husband was an understatement. He despised him.

  “Yeah, yeah. I know I’m cramping your style. Speaking of which, you gave up a hot date to come out with me tonight, didn’t you?” she mused.

  “Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Let me see those damn divorce papers,” he said, confidently gesturing for her to hand them over.

  Emma took them out of her purse and placed them into his waiting hand, a relieved look on her pretty face. He quickly glanced at them and shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe it was finally over.

  “Thank fucking god,” he chortled, tossing it back across the table. “You need to frame that shit. Hang it up like a fucking reward...a well-earned diploma from the university of hard knocks.”

  “That’s actually not a bad idea,” she agreed lightly.

  They sat in comfortable silence, both of them enjoying the loud music and sipping their drinks. There were a lot of handsome men in the bar and Emma wondered what it would be like to go home with one of them and fuck him just for the sake of fucking. She quietly chided herself, embarrassed by her thoughts. Her ex had trained her well to dismiss her desires.

  She only had two lovers in her life and one of them had been her husband. The other had been the boy who took her virginity, Jonas Reid. She was sixteen at the time, convinced she was madly in love. His dad was a school teacher from Wellington, New Zealand, working on an exchange program at their high school for a semester.

  Sadly, Jonas was only around for a year, just long enough for her to fall for him. Their love affair had been quick and intense, just like the sex. Truthfully, she was more drawn to his accent than anything else. Every time he said anything in that Kiwi cadence, it made her panties wet. Luke used to tease her about that. He said that accents and gin were like panty-remover for her. He wasn’t wrong about that.

  Emma was restless. She had spent years in a loveless marriage, always trying to meet his impossibly high standards, but never able to draw more than harsh criticism and endless emotional abuse from him. She tried to please him, constantly shifting and adjusting her behavior to match his moods, but to no avail. He was never happy. He would string her along with moments of kindness, raising her hopes and then quickly knock her down when she let down her walls. His affection was only offered with strings attached.

  Their relationship had been a twisted dance, a dark and desperate tango that kept her forever shackled and confused, destroying her confidence and fragile self-esteem piece by piece. Her friendship with Luke was like a beacon, a bright light guiding her out of a very dark tunnel. He refused to give up on her, patiently dropping those reassuring bread crumbs so she could finally navigate her way home. She would forever be grateful to him for always being there, and more importantly, for not giving up on her. She trusted him completely.

  Of course, Andrew hated Luke and tried to dismantle their friendship, much in the same way he alienated all of her friends from her. Luke didn’t buy into his bullshit. He really was the caretaker of their friendship, keeping close tabs on her and making sure that they stayed connected and ensuring they got together at least once every few months. They had to do so behind Andrew’s back, of course, but those moments with Luke were the only thing that kept her from losing herself completely, so it was well worth the risk.

  She lived vicariously through her friend. He w
as the complete antithesis of who she was, free-spirited and sexual, bold and fearless. He had a variety of tastes and a huge appetite for sex. She loved hearing the stories about his exotic sexual adventures and hung on every naughty word. His explicit tales excited her, made her hot and curious and kept her desires alive.

  Her own sex life was bland, predictable and uninspiring. Andrew was not very imaginative and the few times she had tried to spice up their sex life he would shame her mercilessly, making her feel embarrassed and dirty. As time went on she just kept her desires to herself, locked up tight, safe from the light and from Andrew’s stern judgement.

  The only time she explored her fantasies was when she was alone. Spurned on by Luke’s sexy stories, she would imagine herself in his shoes, acting out every erotic scene, bringing herself to one explosive orgasm after another, always after Andrew was sleeping, under the safety of her covers.

  She envied Luke. She wanted to be him, no restraints, no shame, no apologies. She was tired of playing it safe all the time. There was nothing holding her back now except her own inexperience, and of course, her lack of confidence. She wished that she was as adventurous and assertive as he was, but over time she had grown scared of her own shadow.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Luke said, pulling her out of her memories.

  Emma smiled at him thoughtfully, considering what she should share with him, and just how much. He offered her an encouraging wink as if to say ‘bring it on, baby’. She chuckled and shook her head slowly.

  She started to tell him but struggled to find the words. “To be honest with you Luke, I’m...um...I want...I am feeling...”

  “Horny?” he said playfully, pulling no punches.

  He always had a way of knowing exactly what she was thinking but was too afraid to say. She felt the blush rising to her face, her cheeks quickly turning a warm shade of pink.

  “Jesus, Luke,” she stammered, laughing off her embarrassment.

  “What? You’re not horny?” he teased, his words flirtatious and bawdy.

  “I didn’t say that...,” she purred, “I am...horny, but couldn’t you find a more tasteful way to say it?”

  “Amorous, lustful, on the prowl?” he gently taunted, sitting forward in his seat, as though the conversation just became very interesting.

  Emma giggled nervously, looking around. It had been a long time since she had been to bed with anyone, and even longer since she had enjoyed it. Andrew wasn’t very attentive to her needs and wouldn’t expend much energy pre-heating the oven, so to speak. His idea of foreplay was turning out the lights and raising her nighty. Early on in their marriage, she had learned to exaggerate her pleasure because the truth was, she wasn’t going to reach orgasm anyway, and he would get really pissed off if she didn’t cum. He’d call her frigid and shame her for hours afterward until she started to think it was her fault.

  Even as she looked around the bar for potential lovers she wondered if she would be able to climax with any partner. She knew she was being silly, but she still felt haunted by her old insecurities and doubts. Would men even find her attractive?

  “Mimi, why do you look so nervous?” Luke asked, tuning in to her sudden apprehension.

  “I don’t know,” she smiled weakly, knowing he would never let her off with such an ambivalent reply.

  “Bullshit. Tell me what’s on your mind, maybe I can help,” he prodded gently, his eyes locked on hers.

  She knew it was pointless shielding her feelings from him.

  “I guess I’m just feeling insecure. I mean, even if I was...um...on the prowl, I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I mean, look at me. I’m more of a mousy librarian than sexy seductress,” she chuckled softly, embarrassed by the admission.

  Luke rolled his eyes in mock disbelief, shaking his head in jest.

  “Mimi, you have no idea how hot you are, do you? I mean, aside from the dowdy clothes you wear...” he teased. “If you sexed yourself up a bit, you would give any of the women in here a run for their money.”

  “What’s wrong with my outfit?” Emma asked, knowing it was horrendous. Andrew had been quite particular about her wardrobe, preferring she dressed conservatively. To go out with Luke that night she had chosen a simple white blouse with a modest black skirt that landed just above the knee, which was sadly the only thing in her closet even close to “nightclub chic”. The only sexy thing she had on was her bra. She loved pretty bras.

  “Nothing, if you are going to a funeral. Unbutton those top three buttons,” he encouraged, “and take that clip out of your hair, let it fall loosely around your face.”

  Emma looked at him curiously, wondering if he was serious or not. She smiled tentatively and looked around, nervous about drawing attention to herself.

  “Come on, Mimi, just do it,” he said, sitting back, smiling reassuringly at her.

  Trusting him, Emma slowly undid her buttons, revealing more cleavage than she typically dared. Luke raised his brows, grinning at her. She cautiously raised a hand and unclipped her long hair, allowing her auburn tresses to frame her pretty face, then used her fingers to comb through her locks, concerned about the untamed strays and knots.

  “Who knew you had such a great rack, woman,” he growled, exaggerating his approval.

  “Okay, cut it out,” she laughed, crossing her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling timid.

  “I’m serious. You look sexy. Now sit up straight, and put your arms down for god-sake. It’s about time you invited those perky ladies out to play,” he said, raising his hand to flag down the waiter scurrying by.

  The young man came back and Luke gestured for two more drinks, but before the waiter could leave Luke asked him a question.

  “Tell me something, and be honest...what do you think of this lady? Swipe left, or swipe right?” he asked him, man to man.

  Emma had no idea what he was talking about and wondered if it was some weird bro-code she knew nothing about. The waiter looked at her and raised his eyebrows as if he suddenly realized she was there. He smiled at her sweetly, a blush rising to his cheeks, and then looked back to Luke.

  “Definitely right,” he admitted, gesturing his approval with an enthusiastic nod. “But then again, I’d swipe right on your pic too,” he teased throwing Luke a wink, “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

  Luke grinned at the young man and shook his head before he wandered off, then turned to Emma and smirked.

  “See?”

  “See what? I have no idea what that even means,” she admitted, chuckling quietly. She looked at him curiously, wondering what his point was.

  “It’s a Tinder thing, swipe right means ‘fuckable’,” he explained bluntly, quite pleased with himself.

  Emma giggled and turned to catch a glimpse of the waiter. He was nowhere to be found.

  “What does swipe left mean then?” she asked curiously.

  “To put it tactfully, it means ‘not my cup of tea’,” Luke grinned.

  “I see....” Emma whispered softly, her curiosity still not satisfied, “what’s a Tinder?”

  Luke raised his brows and groaned at her in mock disgust, shaking his head slowly.

  “How do you still know so little about this stuff?” he teased. “Tinder is a dating app that allows you to quickly rate pics of potential partners who are in the area. A quick swipe left or right lets the app know if you are interested or not. If both parties swipe right, it will tell you about the match. Then you hook up,” he explained casually, giving her the quick, five cent tutorial.

  Emma scrunched up her nose, expressing her disapproval.

  “That sounds shallow,” she concluded, wondering how the human race would manage to evolve with such superficial mating methods.

  “It may be, but it is also quite effective,” Luke laughed, proving why they were such opposites. “Either way, you’re a swipe right. That has to feel good...” he said.

  Emma didn’t want to admit it, but it did stroke her ego a little. Unfortunatel
y, after years sequestered in a bad marriage, she felt completely out of her element. Even if she was restless and ‘on the prowl’, she didn’t have a clue how to navigate this strange new world. She was anxious to put her feet back in the water and explore her curiosity, but things had changed so much in the world of dating and seduction and she didn’t have a clue where to begin. All she knew for sure was that she wanted to explore it. She wished more than anything she could tap into Luke’s adventurous database and study up on what he had already mastered, the places he frequented, the people he connected with. Maybe then she would have his confidence. She felt so out of her element.

  Was it just easier for men to put themselves out there?

  Suddenly Emma had an idea. She looked playfully at Luke, her alluring smile commanding his attention.

  “Luke...” she said softly.

  “Mimi,” he smirked, knowing she was leading up to something.

  “Will you teach me what you know? You can take me to your parties and the places you go for fun, can’t you? Maybe introduce me to people...” she began cautiously. “You’ve been boasting to me for years about all the naughty fun you’ve been having and it’s made me so damn curious. I think maybe I’m ready to experience that too,” she admitted, her eyes glistening with hope.

  Luke looked at her curiously, as if trying to follow her meaning. Emma continued before he could chime in.

  “I’m nearly 32 years old and I’ve only had two sexual partners, and on a scale of one to ten, I would give them a combined six. As you can imagine, I’ve developed quite a healthy curiosity over the years and now I think I’m ready to start exploring some of my desires,” she explained, swallowing her apprehension. “Here’s my dilemma...I wouldn’t even know how, or where to begin, let alone have the confidence to proceed on my own if I did.”

  She took a slow and deliberate breath before continuing, “but you...., you know these things. You could show me..., teach me the ropes. Be there with me and guide me. Keep me safe,” she proposed her enthusiasm rising. “You could be my wingman,” she leaned toward him, unaware of her spilling cleavage.

  Luke smiled wryly at her, his brows raised. She hoped his expression meant he was seriously considering her request, rather than contemplating if she had completely lost her damn mind. He took his sweet time answering, causing her to squirm anxiously in her chair.