Still Creek (The Cove Series Book 2)

by Leaona Luxx

  Copyright © Leaona Luxx 2016 Still Creek

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Still Creek is intended for 18+ older, and for mature audiences only.

  © Leaona Luxx

  Cover Design by Cover Luxe Design

  Edited by Spellbound

  Proofreading and Interior Design by Masque of the Red Pen

  To my very own alpha, you love me the way I need to be loved. You are the foundation on which I build every man and the reason no one else has ever measured up. Our love story began within six weeks. Too fast some say. Insta-love others compare. To us, it was right as rain in a drought. My dreams are only of you; my heart knows no other. A man of few words until I need them. Thank you for beginning this love with me and choosing to survive the flood when the world decides the water should rise. Our love is never-ending, always evolving. Learning to love when we want to give up. Your love and support know no limits. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for this amazing life.

  You and me, against the world.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Acknowledgments

  Why did I agree to do this? Christy’s my best friend, but I just got back into town, and I haven’t even seen my family. My brother is gonna be pissed. Mother will think it’s inexcusable. Yet, here I am. Sitting in the corner of the hottest club at Myrtle Beach, Froggy Bottomz.

  My head pounds with the rhythm of the music making me squint as the club’s lights flash. What the hell was I thinking coming out tonight after the day I’ve had? Packing my apartment and getting it moved gave me a migraine from hell this morning. The drive itself wasn’t so bad, but I haven’t been able to shake it all day.

  I need to unpack and make sure I have a bed to sink into. Yet, here I sit, nursing my drink and watching my phone. That’s all I’ve done lately, watch this damn phone. He isn’t going to call, he never does. But still, I wait.

  Christy’s on the floor, dancing her ass off. I’m rooted to the spot nursing my Mai Tai. She’s going to have a hangover from hell in the morning. My phone buzzes with a text from my youngest brother, Chord. About the time I click it, Christy grabs it from my hand.

  “What the fuck are you doing? We’re here to celebrate your graduation, and you’re in the corner on your phone. I demand you get drunk, now,” she says as she downs her fourth drink. She then waves at a waitress for another round.

  Christy’s right, I deserve to celebrate and unwind. I’ve kicked ass at Clemson, graduating at the top of my class. Before I even graduated, I had my business set up and ready to roll.

  Some would say, I’ve been given all I have, but I know I worked very hard to get here. Yes, my family helped me get established. Nevertheless, I busted my ass to graduate at the top of my class.

  I’ve spent the last four years at college, earning degrees in business and horticulture. No, most women wouldn’t find a job in landscaping design their dream job, but it’s what I wanted.

  My oldest brother, One, owns the largest construction company in North Carolina. I thought a landscaping company would do well. He did also.

  I love being outdoors, working with the land. Watching things grow that I nurtured, makes me proud. It was a natural fit; I really can’t wait to get started.

  But here I sit, waiting on an asshole to call or text me. I keep waiting. Hoping that whatever his reason for walking away is a good one. That it’s the right choice.

  One more check of my phone helps me decide. Nothing. He hasn’t even looked at my last two texts. So let’s drink him away. Maybe J.T. will help.

  “Damn straight! It’s time I let loose and let go. Let me get another round, girl, it’s time to get fucked up.” I practically yell across the table at my best friend. The music is louder than my voice, but Christy nods and goes with the flow. It’s her way.

  Taking my drink in hand, I down it as I look for that same waitress. I order a Bottle Cap and a Pink Panty Pull Down, secretly hoping my panties stay up. Once the drinks are back, I drink one immediately. I slam the glass down on the bar as I grab the other and head to the dance floor.

  We dance our asses off to the beat of club music meant for nothing but dancing. It’s loud and thrums in my eardrums reminding me I no longer have a headache. Just my heart that’s still hurting.

  “Hey, I gotta pee,” Christy yells.

  “Just tell everyone, dude. Let’s go.” Laughing as we dance off the floor, we stand for what feels like forever in line. So I check my phone for the hundredth time tonight.

  “Still no word?” Christy nods at my phone.

  “No. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. It’s like I’m a stalker. What the fuck?” I bemoan my response to her.

  “You’ve got it bad. Move on already. It’s obvious he’s not into you. Besides, when do you ever chase a man?” She’s looking at me like I have a horn growing outta my head.

  “I’m not chasing a damn thing,” I huff my answer as I take the first stall.

  I’ve never waited on a man in my life, why am I waiting around on this one? It’s not like we’ve had some long-term relationship. We haven’t even dated. Why do I feel such a connection to him?

  She’s right, damn it. Since when do I chase anyone? Constantly waiting for him to look at my texts. Never answering, never a flicker of interest since the first night. It’s like I’m obsessed.

  Christy’s right, I need to unwind and forget about him for the night. It’s time to let my hair down and have some fun for a change. To hell with him.

  “You’re right. He’s not interested. I’m over it,” I determine as I wash my hands, deciding to wash my hands of him too. “I’m done.”

  Christy bumps her hip into mine with a smile on her face. “There’s my girl. Screw him. If he doesn’t see what he’s losing, he doesn’t deserve you.”

  Dancing the night away was the plan. We made our way
back to the bar and grabbed a couple of drinks. Downing those to get back to the dance floor, my buzz begins to kick in.

  Dancing and drinking the night away was on tap, and after a few dances, sweat dripped from our hair. I was parched, so we made our way back to the table and hailed our waitress.

  Two Green Fairies later, I’m feeling nothing but the beat of the music as I grind up against the hot-assed guy behind me, while Rihanna’s S & M provides the rhythm for my moves. Well, that and the alcohol.

  Christy soon joins me in my slow, visual seduction of the muscle-bound gladiator that’s all eyes and hands on me. I get lost in the music as our bodies meld together, moving as one to the beat.

  His massive arms surround my waist as I stroke the tattoos running down his biceps to his forearms. His tanned arms are covered with black ink in a bold tribal design. His clean, woodsy scent helping send chills up my spine as his warm breath cools the sweat-soaked hair falling around my neck.

  Turning in his strong arms, I look into the dark depths of his brown eyes, reaching up to tangle my fingers in his dark, unruly hair. His lips part just before they take mine, hard and fast. The music fills my ears as his tongue fills my mouth. There’s no fight in me to stop either. To push aside every thought of him.

  Kissing me. Taking me. Marking me as his. I allow this feeling to sweep me away, getting lost in his arms and in his touch. No longer burning from want, but longing to be burnt. To burn from my memory, the one man who has been no further from my mind than his taste on my tongue.

  But trying to forget him is impossible. With every touch, I replay it as if they’re his hands, his lips. As if it’s him. His touch made my skin burn and my soul catch fire. Desire ignited in every pore in my body, begging to have his body on mine. Every morning longing for him to be beside me, inside me.

  The moment his eyes locked on mine, I was his captive. Meeting him was by chance, never having him isn’t option.

  It’s been six weeks since he took my life by storm and by God, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to have him in my life and my bed, forever. I will not take no for an answer, no matter the cost.

  He continues to deny me. He refuses my calls. Reads my text but never answers. He can’t deny me for much longer. He wants me as much as I want him, I know it. The pull I feel in my soul tells me we’re meant to be together.

  A tingle runs up my back, and immediately I begin to scan the room. Flashing lights and bodies hamper my efforts. Until our eyes lock. The want in his eyes mirrors mine.

  His nostrils flare every time I grind my ass into the crotch of the gladiator I’m currently humping a leg on. He stands over in the corner, staring. Fuck that.

  Turning my back on the mammoth of a man I’m dancing with, I touch my toes as I allow him to ride my ass as if he’s fucking me. By God, if he doesn’t make a move now, I’m done.

  Fuck his ‘man-code’. He needs to dial back the bullshit and man the fuck up because I’m getting tired of his games.

  Why in the hell come watch me if you can’t speak? Or even answer a fucking text? I’m mad as hell and do the unthinkable. Marching straight from the dance floor, I walk over to the darkened corner where he stands. Facing him, I stare him down, waiting. Hoping. Imploring him to take me. Here. Now. Something.

  Nothing. He just stares at me. Through me. Looking into the depths of my soul as I stand there, baring it to him. Silently begging him to take me.

  He doesn’t. He doesn’t even move. He stands there, staring at me. Tears fill my eyes as his rejection fills my soul. I’m burning for a man who refuses to talk to me. Want me. Make love to me.

  Why am I still standing here? Backing away, I shake my head ever so slightly. He knows. I know. I’m about to make a huge mistake.

  His back comes off the wall where he stands. Tilting his head as if to assess if I’m about to do something stupid. We both know I am, but I can’t stop myself.

  Spinning on my heels, I tilt but right myself. The alcohol making my head spin. My emotions making my decisions. I walk a straight-ish line to my gladiator and wrap myself around him.

  His hands find my ass as I climb him in the middle of the dance floor. Seizing his mouth as I go. I let his mouth assault mine. All the while, wishing they were his lips.

  My dancing gladiator carries me away, where to, I don’t give a fuck. All I know is, my soul burns for a man I can’t have, and I’ll be damned if I ask again.

  What the fuck does she think she’s doing? Christy better make fucking sure she watches her. Mother fucking, steroid-bound asshole best get his hands off her.

  She’s pushing my fucking buttons, and she knows it. Drinking like an alcoholic and showing her ass like she is. She wants to see me get locked up, no mother fucking doubt.

  Bending over in front of him while he rides her ass like he’s fucking her. Goddamn it. That’s bullshit right there. I can feel my face flame, I’m so pissed.

  I cross my arms over my chest, trying to keep myself from ripping this dude apart. Why would she even act like this? She knows our deal.

  Anger wells up inside me until all I can do is shake my head at her ridiculous behavior. Seriously, what the hell is she thinking? I’ve stood here long enough, I’m sick of her dry-humping this asshole.

  Why must she be so persistent? I told her we couldn’t do this. There’s too much at stake. Too many factors involved for it to ever work. Losing her number and blocking her would’ve been in my best interest. There’s just something about her, I can’t walk away.

  I continue to watch her act as if she has no control over her actions. Downing drink after drink, making one bad choice after the other. What is she thinking?

  I paid the waitress a lot of money to start watering down her drinks. She’s so far gone now it’ll take sleep to run this through her system.

  The minute her eyes find mine, they lock into my soul. Her stormy blue eyes have never been far from my memory. Her lips have ruined me for any other woman. I want her and she knows it.

  Out of the corner of my eye, something gets my attention. I catch a glimpse of her, then a full shot. I see she’s walking off the dance floor, straight toward me. Damn it. What the fuck? Why is she coming over here?

  Seconds later, she stands inches from me, staring into my eyes. Daring me to take her. I want her. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. But I can’t have her. I can never love her the way I want to.

  Her eyes become glassy when I don’t respond to her. She has no clue why I won’t act on my feelings. To be honest, I’m not sure why I won’t either. Everything has changed, I’ve changed. There’s so much I want to tell her, I need to tell her, but I just stand there, watching.

  The blood in my veins pumps wildly at her proximity to me. My cock strains as her scent hits me full throttle, as if her shaking her ass all over the dance floor wasn’t enough for him to cry foul. She comes closer to us as if willing him to take her, here and now.

  I could bury so deep in her; she wouldn’t recognize her own heartbeat fearing it was my pumping of her pussy. The thought alone has me creaming. I bite the inside of my cheek to calm myself and my raging hard-on.

  Our standoff continues until I see it in her eyes, the moment she gives up. She walks away with a sway to her hips and determination, reminding me of a very bullheaded person I know. She’s gonna be the death of me.

  What’s worse, she takes my heart with her as she goes and there’s nothing I can do about it. Truth be told, I want to chase her. But this will never work. Why the fuck did this have to happen? I should’ve walked away that night. Now, I’m afraid I never will.

  I watch as she walks back to her table, throwing back another drink before returning to her ass-shaking and dry-humping of the mother fucker she’s chosen to use to make me angry. Using someone to make me jealous is juvenile as hell. Damn it, if it’s not working.

  Planting herself in the middle of the dance floor, she immediately starts to ride the Cro-Magnon she left earlier. She has no clue
what she’s doing. Why the hell did I even come here? I should leave her here to clean this shit up herself, damn it.

  I need to change my number. I’ve got to stop reading every text she sends; I wouldn’t be here if not. It’s as if she’s determined to get me to take her to bed. To fuck her the way I want to so badly. To mark her and make her mine.

  The way she’s dancing with him, grinding her ass on him, it’s dangerous. Men get ideas, wrong ideas. What the mother fucking hell? He’s got his Goddamned hands on her ass. I’m going to kill him, and then I’m going to kill her.

  If she thinks this is going to make me jealous, she better think again. The only thing this show of hers is accomplishing is making me angry. Moreover, she’s putting herself in danger. He’s all over her body like he owns it. Like he owns her. I’ll be damned if that’ll ever happen.

  I need to do something before things get outta hand. Losing my temper isn’t going to help her if she needs it. The way she’s acting, she’s gonna need it. He’s practically swallowing her face whole. I can’t even watch it. That shit’s nasty.

  They’re all over each other. This shit show can’t get much worse. I don’t know if I should get pissed or throw up. Who the fuck does he think he is, touching her like that? He doesn’t deserve her. She’s better than the likes of him. She’s better than me.

  What’s going on? He’s whispering in her ear. Asshole. Probably telling her a line of horse shit. Trying to be suave. Is she actually smiling at that shit? You’ve got to be fucking kidding. She’s acting as if she’s never heard a line of bullshit in her life.

  Total dick move or not, she’s with him, in the middle of the dance floor, wrapped around him, acting like a damn fool. I can’t handle this shit. Her ass filling his hands. His kisses filling her mouth. And all I do is stand here. Watching.

  Turning slowly, she looks at me. Waiting. For what? I can’t have her, what the fuck does she want from me? Her eyes flutter shut, pausing ever so slightly. Opening her eyes again, I see it. Burning. Like the inferno she is, she’ll incinerate everything in her path.

  I want to be the kindling to her flame. I want to taste her the way he has and in so many other ways. I want to bury so fucking deep in her, she never loses sight of who we are to each other. I can’t live without her, and by God, I can’t have her.