by Kayley Cole
"You know, you didn't have to break your contract and give up directing Narrow Roads for me. We could have waited to take this trip," I say.
"I couldn't care less about Narrow Roads after all the shit we've been through. It even makes me want to do a happy film about bunnies and rainbows."
"You'd never get hired again."
"And that would give us even more time to travel."
"And you'd be supported by me."
"I could be your pool boy, and you could admire me while I admire myself too."
"That would be incredibly fun." I lean against the couch. "So, when we get out of here, how far are we traveling?"
"I figure we'll take the longest route possible all around the country," he says. "We'll pretend we're on the run from the law and every time someone recognizes us, we'll have to leave the area as quickly as possible."
"That sounds stressful."
"I've actually run from the police before. It can be incredibly invigorating. Fight or flight. Basic animal instinct."
"You just want new inspiration from all those small towns and big cities."
"Nah." He moves closer to me. "I just want you to be stuck in a car with me until we figure out the greatest mystery of our lives."
"And what's that? The secret to happiness? The meaning of life?"
"It's the question of which restaurant has the best chicken and waffles." His hand slides down my back before resting on my hip. "I'm betting on Tennessee."
I smirk. "You think you're very clever, don't you?"
"Arrogant, clever, and a huge jackass."
"And I still like you."
"Like a moth to a flame," he teases, his hand around my hip tugging me closer, pulling me between him and the couch. My ass presses against his groin and I can feel his body tense as I jut out my ass. He grabs my ass, squeezing it as he pushes me back against the couch.
He slides his hand under my waistband, slipping his hand into my underwear. I should be embarrassed about how wet I am, but all I can do is take in his cedar scent that's marked with something zesty, feel his breath against my hair, and the warm roughness of his finger callouses against my most sensitive skin.
"How do you feel?" he asks.
"Mmmm." I give him a slow smile. "I'm feeling like we found the secret to happiness."
He moves his hand back up and unbuttons my pants, his erection pressing against the cleft in my ass. He unzips my pants, pulling them down to my ankles. I feel his lips against my left calf, then my right calf. He kisses the inside of the back of my left knee. If he didn't immediately stand back up, pressing my body against his, my knees would have given out, and I'd be a puddle on the floor.
If I wrote a song about this moment, it would just be moaning, a racing heartbeat, and ragged breathing. It would be a perfect song of two bodies meeting, merging, and turning into two Midas kings, with our golden touch and our golden bodies. It would be our magnum opus.
I spin around, my hands move up to his dark hair, gripping onto it as he pulls up my shirt. I give one last kiss before he whips my shirt off, the split second of separation ended by another kiss. He gathers my hair into a bundle in his hands, holding it like it's something precious before pulling it back, forcing my head back. All I can see is the ceiling as he unclips my bra with his other hand— a demonstration of dexterity— and I feel the silk material tumble against my stomach before landing on my left foot.
Standing in front of him, naked except for my underwear while he's still fully dressed, is precisely what it feels like to be drowned in fame. The difference is that I trust him and we're tied together by more than glorification.
He takes a step back, stripping off his clothes like they're daisy petals he's plucking— he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not. Oh, he loves me so much.
I slide down my underwear as he hooks his thumbs under his boxer briefs. There's this fleeting wonderment over how we always quickly unravel in front of each other, but as he pulls his boxer briefs down, all those thoughts turn to dust.
"I want you," he moans.
"I know," I whisper back.
He lunges down, grabbing me around my back and under my knees. He picks me up so quickly that my head spins. He presses me against his chest as he carries me over to the other side of the couch. He places me carefully, my head propped up on the armrest.
"Gentle isn't your style," I tease him, rubbing two fingers around my clit. "You were in the middle of directing a horror film. You'd think it would have made you a little rougher."
"This is just the set-up."
He grabs my wrist, hard enough that I stop rubbing myself. "Your hands should only ever be touching me."
His woodsy scent wafts over me as he climbs on top of me, his body barely fitting on the couch. His cock brushes against my pussy. I tremble despite all attempts to remain in control of myself. I stare up at his wolf skull tattoo, letting my finger press into its skeleton mouth. I move my hand up to the tiny flames that dance around near his throat.
His hand rests over my left breast, squeezing lightly. All of my temptation to tease him for his prior tenderness vanishes, transformed into his own temptation rippling under my skin like a flood, waiting to flow out between my legs.
His hand rests in the center of my chest as he pushes into me. It takes a second for my body to get used to the first inch, but he doesn't wait. He thrusts all the way into me, filling me so suddenly for a second there's a burning pain, but as he kisses me and begins thrusting with reckless abandon, I find my legs spreading wide enough that my left knee hangs over the edge of the couch while my right leg is forced into the couch cushion as his body rubs against it with every movement.
He grabs onto my waist as my head frantically slides against the armrest. His cock feels like it's hitting at almost the right spot and my body is desperate for him to either hit it or rub close enough against it a thousand times until my body explodes into a thousand pieces of pleasure.
My hand reflexively moves back toward my clit. He grabs both my wrists, pinning them next to my head. His thrusts get even more rampant to the point that I can almost imagine my hair breaking apart from all of the friction. But I don't care because this is the perfect mixture of freedom and captivity— he's keeping me in a tight enough bundle that I can't decide what happens next, but my natural instincts are free and I know I'm going to break out of this confinement with him. There is no greater freedom than freedom that follows after imprisonment.
His hands return to my waist. As he kisses me again, my hands move to his muscular, tattooed arms, feeling them flex every time he moves. My hands move farther up to his broad shoulders and finally to the rippling muscles in his back. He's perfect. He's the strong tide, returning to me every second that he can.
I can feel the orgasm lingering at the edge of my pussy. I'm so close. So close. I dig my nails into his skin. I think I'm begging, but I can't hear myself over the pulse of my body.
Right before it feels like my heart will burst and the tension will kill me, the orgasm hits like a meteor slamming into the earth. My body quakes as my veins trill and my body surrenders to pure pleasure. It's wave after wave of bliss, so overwhelming that I barely feel Jake come inside me, but as he moves beside me on the couch, his arms wrapped around me and our sweat mixing against each other, it adds a level of comfort that compliments the moment perfectly. It's sweetness after the abrasiveness.
I close my eyes. We need to leave before the paparazzi figures out that Cyrus and Amelia aren't us, but I'm afraid to move and destroy this moment. Nothing could top this. Nothing could even come close to this moment.
Jake shifts his weight. I look over at him as he reaches under my neck, digging under the cushion.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"I was going to wait until we got away, but it feels like a good time. It could actually be the worst possible time, but you know I have no concept of what's wrong or right."
He pulls his hand back ou
t of the cushion. He holds out a small red velvet box.
"Jake..." I say, sitting up.
"Oh, Christ. It is an awful time to do this, isn't it?" he mutters, looking down at the box like it's a snake. "Right after sex. You're right. God…”
"No, Jake." I grab his hand, wrapping his fingers over the box. "That's not what I was going to say. I was just surprised. Do it."
"You're sure?"
"I've never been more certain of anything in my life."
As he kneels in front of me, I expect lyrics to start forming in my head, but for once, I'm focused on this moment. He pops open the box.
"Eleanor Rue, I'm sure it is against all your better judgment, and the judgment of everyone else because you're a genius saint who makes amazing music, but I hope… I hope you'll look past that and help me to become a better man. In return, I'll give everything I have into making you a happy woman because you already make me an incredibly happy man. Ellie, will you marry me?"
I take out the ring and it’s everything I never knew I wanted— the silver band is twisted into a braid with tiny diamonds decorating the outside of it and the interior is engraved with the melody of Legacy. It represents our passion— twisted in many ways— but it’s still ours.
"Ellie?"
I turn to him. "You're wrong, Jake."
"I'm wrong?" He glances down at the ring.
"It's not against my better judgment, and nobody else's judgment matters." I lean forward, kissing him. "Let's get married."
He grabs me, my hair caught in his hands, and kisses me with the intensity of a man who has been lost for decades and has just returned home.
And when all this is over,
when I'm fading away,
all that's left is you,
all that I need is you,
A living legacy.
The End.
About the Author
Kayley Cole is an emerging author of New Adult and College Romance. Writing great stories, listening to your ideas... creating characters you'll love.
Kayley currently lives and works in Central California with her husband. She loves reading, writing, traveling, and spending time outdoors with her dogs.
If you would like to get more information about Kayley’s other books, author news, updates and book freebies, please click here to subscribe to the Kayley Cole Newsletter.
Other Books by Kayley Cole
CHAT Me book series —
CHAT Me (Book #1 — short prequel to CHAT Me Exposed)
CHAT Me Exposed (Book #2)
CHAT Me L.A. (Book #3)
A New Romantic Suspense book series —
Twisted Hope
Twisted Passion
CHAT Me
Adam runs a video chat service that allows wealthy men to talk to beautiful women, with various levels of "chatting" allowed.
When his best friend's little sister, Sage, blackmails him into letting her be a contractor in his business in order to help fund her college education, he's annoyed about his hand being forced, but tempted by Sage's beauty and persistence.
As Sage continues to lean on Adam, will she be able to overcome her sexual naivety and let Adam show her that he can be trusted? Or will Adam and his bad boy reputation ruin everything after all?
CHAT Me Exposed
SAGE
My new romantic relationship with my brother's best friend Adam is being tested in more ways than I thought possible. My webcam job has erupted from the recent Senator Loomis cheating scandal and the media is being relentless. On top of that, my best friend from high school is back in town… and I'm not sure why he's so interested in me again. If I'm exposed, everything could crash and burn.
ADAM
These journalists just don't know when to stop. This Senator's scandal is threatening to ruin my webcam service and Sage thinks she can help save it. I'm not so sure if keeping our relationship a secret in order to protect it will work much longer. My "bad boy" reputation is under scrutiny, and Sage's "good girl" persona may just come to an end.
Will the scandal, harassment, and distrust ruin Sage and Adam, or can they survive only by giving up whom they love?
CHAT Me L.A.
Ethan
I acquired my cousin’s webcam company, Asset Girls, right after it was hacked in Detroit. That Senator Loomis scandal got me a great price.
Now I’m trying to stop my other shady activity in LA and focus on rebuilding my new company. I’m determined to make it lucrative once again.
And flaky, carefree Merlot from Detroit may just be the one to help me.
Merlot
I just pissed off some gang members in Detroit; Hoping LA will treat me better. My webcam job with Asset Girls is relocating to nearby Venice Beach.
I’m just not so sure about how the porn mogul fits in yet.
Asset Girls’ new owner, Ethan, is shady. I’m constantly rubbing him the wrong way. Maybe if I try the right way he’ll let me stay a little longer…
Can Ethan and Merlot set aside their differences to make Asset Girls profitable again, or will his bad boy ways and her devil-may-care attitude ruin everything?
Twisted Hope
Jake
They’ve respected me in Hollywood and LA for years as one of the premier movie and music video directors… until that young model just OD’d at one of my house parties. Now my bad reputation and all the rumors may just end my career.
Maybe that letter I just found can help me. The one from my old best friend, Andrew.
His sister, Ellie, betrayed me there years ago, but my old hometown still needs my help after the tornado hit. Saffron, Colorado… I’m coming home!
Ellie
Waitressing in this small town isn’t helping my music career. A gig here and there is all I can get, and now my old boyfriend Jake is back to “help out” the locals… just who this town doesn’t need right now.
I’ve been keeping his secret for years, and he doesn’t even know it. I would have done anything for him… but being young and naïve back then taught me otherwise. Now I know different.
With their physical chemistry boiling under the surface and Jake more determined than ever to get Ellie’s attention, will a desperate stalker lurking in the shadows finally end things for them?
Thanks again for reading Twisted Passion.
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