by Olivia Chase
When he slides in, bare, I gasp. Oh God, he feels so damn good.
Hale drops a hand between our legs and fondles my clit. “I fucking need you to come for me,” he says as he thrusts his cock in me. He’s driving me right to the edge with his touch, with the way he’s fucking me.
I buck against him, my orgasm building. My body is on fire for him, my breasts throbbing, my pussy pulsing in rhythm with my rapid heartbeat. “Please,” I whisper, grinding against him. “Please.”
Hale’s cock pounds me harder, and he grunts as he grips my hair and tugs my head back, exposing my throat. “Fuck yes,” he murmurs, licking the flesh there, making me shudder. Oh God, he’s so hot, and his fingers are devilish…
I’m so close…
And then I’m over the edge, flying, screaming his name and humping his hand and cock, and he’s right behind me, clenching me, his mouth buried in my throat, our bodies tangled.
It takes me a moment to come down. My whole body is trembling from the force of what I just felt. Holy God, that was amazing.
He withdraws from me but doesn’t let me go. Instead, he curls my backside against his front. His hand is stroking my side, and I feel tears spring to my eyes from the gentle gesture.
This man breaks me apart in all the best ways. But can I trust it?
I clear my throat and force myself to say, “I don’t want you to give up fighting if you feel it’s good for you.”
His hands still.
I continue. “I thought a lot about my past. What you do in the ring is different than what my birth father did when he was violent at home. I’m sorry I entangled those up. That wasn’t right.” By the end of my speech, my voice is brittle with emotion.
Hale’s soft hand reaches up to stroke my hair, and I feel my anxiety start to sooth. My body relaxes. He doesn’t speak for a moment, just touches me.
Finally he says, “I appreciate you saying that, but I realized that fighting is toxic for me—both in and out of the ring. I like myself better now that I’ve stopped.”
I let my body relax against his. There’s a sincerity in his words that asks me to believe him. He really sounds happy this way.
“You’re sure?”
Hale kisses the side of my neck. “When it comes to you, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Hale
“Order up!” Axel hollers, slapping the skinny paper down on the counter.
I frown at him. “You fucking love giving me orders, don’t you.”
His grin is answer enough. “I guess I do. I rarely get the opportunity.”
Our grill cook is out sick, so I’m filling in. Axel has taken advantage of that by barking orders as often as he can. Wanker. It’s taken all of my effort to remain patient today and not just punch him in his face.
But this is the new Hale. The one who responds without violence. It’s taken me long enough to get here. I’m not gonna let my half brother’s antics get to me.
I focus on grilling up the burgers, getting orders ready. We just opened up for lunch last week, so this is a new experience for all of us—having a successful lunch opening. I’m whipping up sandwiches and burgers as fast as I can.
And it feels fucking good.
It’s been two months since I went to the police, since I managed to get Phoebe back in my life. Part of me is tempted to fear that something will somehow go wrong, but I know I’ll never do that again.
I’ll never let fear rule my life, especially not when it comes to her.
And I’ve never fucking felt this way before. Never had the passion, the vulnerability, the depth I’ve experienced with Phoebe. She brings out a part of me I didn’t even know existed. We pretty much spend every night together, either at her place or mine.
But I want more.
I want every night.
I focus on fulfilling orders as Axel tosses them back to me. Burgers, wraps, quesadillas. I make them without complaints. This is what I wanted for us. When I talked to Smith about my idea, he was hesitant at first, but he quickly agreed after I outlined my specific ideas for him.
It’s worked out great.
Our bars/restaurants are working together instead of fighting each other. And now Butch is back in jail and not disrupting us. Smith never said anything to me, but I know he guessed it was my father who attacked him. I’m not sure if he suspects I’m the one who turned him in. And frankly, it doesn’t matter. The fewer people I confess that to, the better.
I know Phoebe will keep it a secret.
I give Axel the order I was preparing and look through the window to see Phoebe and her parents entering the restaurant. My heart is kicking so hard that I’m sure anyone close to me could hear it.
Yes, she and I have been seeing a lot of each other, but I haven’t talked to her adoptive parents since the night of the fatal dinner party. Will they forgive me for that? I have no idea. I just have to hope so, once they see the change in me. I’m not the angsty, hotheaded douchebag they met that night.
I step out from behind the back and come to greet Phoebe. I know she’s on her lunch break from her new job, in the same industry but with a different boss. She seems to be much happier now.
“Hey!” she cries out and stands up to hug me. “How are things?”
I smile against her neck. There’s nothing like the feeling of the woman I love against my body, her warmth absorbing me and welcoming me. “Good. You?
Phoebe pulls back and looks at her parents. “Good. We decided to come here for lunch.”
I can see them staring hard at me. I don’t know what to say. I fucked up the last time I saw them. Big time. So I square myself and stare at Will, Dana. “Good to see you two again. I’m sorry about the previous circumstances we met under, but I can promise you, I’m not ever going to put you two of Phoebe in that kind of situation ever again.”
They eye me for a moment, and then Dana nods. She’s still a little hesitant, but I can understand. I have to earn their respect. And I love Phoebe enough to do so.
I leave them to finish their lunches. Focus on my work. When I peek out and see the three of them standing up, I go back to their table. My heart is pulsing so hard that I might vomit.
“Hey,” I tell Phoebe. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
She nods. “Sure.”
We head into the office. She stands there and looks at me as I pace the room for a few seconds.
“Everything okay?” she asks. I can hear the thread of tension in her voice.
I stiffen and turn back to her. Take her chilly hands. “It’s fine.” I squeeze the digits to draw more warmth to them. Is she as nervous as I am?
I look deep into Phoebe’s eyes. The warm eyes I’ve fallen in love with. The eyes that have won me over. Made me change the man I am to be worthy of her. There is so much inside me now that I can barely contain it. My heart is exploding
“Phoebe,” I manage to whisper.
“Yes?” She’s squeezing my fingers back not sure where this is going.
“I love you,” I say.
I can see her body melt with my words. “I love you too,” she whispers.
“But…I want more.” I pull her flush to me. Savor the feeling of her curves pressed against mine. This woman drives me mad, makes me crave things I’ve never wanted before. I need her. Desperately. Does she need me too? My pulse is racing in my veins. “I want to marry you,” I finally say.
Phoebe grows still. Doesn’t look at me for a long moment, during which I’m pretty sure my heart starts to shrivel and die in panic. Then she looks up at me, wide-eyed. “That’s..a big commitment. Are you even sure you’re ready for that?”
“Sweetness.” I cup her face, her beautiful face. “There is no one else I could possibly want more than you. And the thought of making you my wife…” I grin. “I could only be so lucky.”
Phoebe looks at me, tears in her eyes. “Oh God.”
“Say yes,” I find myself whispering against her mouth.
/> “Yes,” she says, and then I take her lips as mine, and I draw her into me. Taste her, savor her, love her. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. This woman has changed me, ruined me in the best ways.
What would my life be like if I hadn’t met her? I don’t even want to think about it.
Phoebe gives me a soft kiss on my cheek. “I love you,” she whispers.
“I’ll see you tonight?” I need to see my fiancée, to reinforce that she is mine, all mine. And that I’m hers.
Her hand touches my jaw. “Yes,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to my chin. “See you later?” she asks.
“Yes.” I give her another hot, searing kiss before she leaves Fugitives.
I’m going to buy her an engagement ring this evening, once I’m off work. I’m going to make her officially mine.
I grab my phone and start a group text with my brothers. Hey, so surprise. I’m engaged. Phoebe Harris. She’s amazing, and she makes me happy.
A minute later, my phone buzzes with a text from my twin, Hudson. WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY BROTHER?
I laugh and reply, She changed me. A few seconds after that, a second message pops up from him. Congrats. I can’t wait to meet her. Sounds like you are happy.
I write back, I am. You would love her. Then I stuff my phone in my pocket. I need to talk to Axel about this too.
I find him at the front of the bar, serving beers. When he has a spare moment from customers bugging him for a refill, I say, “So, I have some news I wanted to share. I’m engaged. To Phoebe.”
Axel spins to look at me, and I can see the questions, the concern in his eyes. “Well. That’s unexpected.” His words are cooler than I would have liked.
I find my lips thinning as I say, “Well, that’s a warm congratulations.” Not. Axel seems like he doesn’t give a shit about it. Yeah, I know he’s probably skeptical, given what our older brothers went through, but I’m still here, and I’m not abandoning him or the bar. We’re still in it together. I figured he’d be happy with that.
He shakes his head. Smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. I offer you the best wishes on your marriage.”
There’s nothing in his body language that shows that he means it. His face is a smooth mask of disinterest. I might as well have said I picked up lunchmeat, as opposed to proposing to the woman I love. Makes my chest tight, but I shove it down.
Admittedly, I’m irritated and disappointed in his lack of enthusiasm. But I know this has to be hard for him. I gotta shake this off. After all, my life is going amazingly now that I’ve stopped being under Butch’s thumb. And it’ll be a long time before he’s released from prison, which is the best for us all.
“Best to you,” Axel finally says. His voice is flat, and I can tell he doesn’t quite mean it. But I can’t let myself worry about that now. I have a future to think about. Phoebe. Our lives entwining together.
The thought bolsters me as I move behind the bar and back into the kitchen, toward the grill. I love this woman. We’re going to have a good future together. Supporting each other.
And I sure as fuck am not going to let anything deter me from that.
Later that night, I get down on one knee and present Phoebe with the diamond engagement ring I bought her earlier in the day.
She’s crying and I can’t say my eyes are completely dry either.
As I slip the ring on her finger, I feel something loosen in my chest. I feel like a billion pounds of pressure have been lifted from me.
I feel light as air.
This is the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.
“God damn, woman, I love you so fucking much,” I whisper, standing and pulling her close to me.
“I love you too, Hale. You’re my everything.”
Hearing those words from a woman as amazing as her, gives me strength. I know that I will do anything to be worthy of that gift she’s given me.
Feeling her body against mine is as magical as the first time we touched, that very first spontaneous kiss I have her after my boxing match.
How did I ever get so lucky as to deserve this—to deserve her?
I don’t know. I’ll never know. I only think that it’s my duty to make sure she feels taken care of for every single second of the rest of her life.
And I can’t wait to begin.
Epilogue
Axel
I crack open a beer and stare at the blank-screened TV, which is shut off. It’s after two AM, and the bar is closed for the night. The house is dark, and no one is here but me. Hale moved out last week to live with his fiancé, Phoebe. And since my father was thrown back in jail, it’s just me here.
Alone.
Drunk.
Full of rage and despair.
I know my brothers didn’t care about me as much as they cared about each other. I was never one of them. Always the half-brother standing on the outside, never part of their circle. Desperate to be loved and accepted and always falling short, despite all my efforts to fit in, to be one of them.
It’s not hard to see that women are the cause of all the problems that have beset our family. Fuck them. I shift on the couch and prop my feet up on the battered coffee table. I won’t do anything else with my life than fuck and drink and be carefree. I’ll carry the Beckett tradition forward so that the wildness of our family isn’t lost forever.
I know I’m not the one people would have expected to carry on family tradition, to care about the family name, but I take it seriously.
Fuck my brothers. I’ll carry the torch alone, all by myself. I won’t settle down like my brothers or my cousins. I’ll be a one-man drinking, fucking, and fighting army.
I take a deep swig of my beer. Drop my head back on the couch cushion and let the alcohol seep into me. I don’t want to think about how empty life feels now that I live alone here in this house where I didn’t even grow up.
With a laugh, I tip my beer and toast the ghost of my brothers.
I’m going to prove to everyone, to myself, that I’m a Beckett through and through.
Things are going to get a little fucking crazy around here, I decide. I’m bringing the glory back to the Beckett name in Rock Bridge.
And I, for one, can’t goddamn wait to start.
THE END
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And now continue reading for the bonus content, the first installment of Hannah Ford’s His Property!
Bonus Content: His Property by Hannah Ford
Chapter 1
LIAM
She was never supposed to be mine.
But when I saw those big tits straining against the material of her too-small white t-shirt, her hair in long chestnut curls around her shoulders, her jeans hugging every curve of that tight little body, my dick got rock hard. She was so young and innocent, all bright blue eyes and tan skin. I could tell just from looking at her that she’d never been corrupted --at least not the way I wanted to corrupt her.
The men – no the boys—at her college wouldn’t be able to appreciate her. I could just imagine their eyes scanning past her at some frat party, passing her over for some reed-thin bubblehead, not realizing that her voluptuous body was made for fucking.
Her cute little mouth had full lips and her nose turned up just a tiny bit at the tip. I watched through the tinted window of my Lexus as she talked to another girl, throwing her head back and laughing at something the girl said.
I could almost feel her lips around my cock, her eyes opening in surprise as I pushed all the way into her, making her take me all the way down her throat.
“How old is she?” I asked her father.
He was sitting in the backseat.
“Twenty-one.” He was bouncing up and down, almost hyper, and I di
d my best to contain my disgust. What kind of man offered his daughter as collateral for a gambling debt? Especially one as beautiful and sexy as the girl I was looking at now.
What kind of man takes him up on it?
Now that I’d seen her, the dirty thoughts were coursing through my mind -- the way she’d look laid out on my bed, her hands and legs tied to the bedposts. The sound my whip would make sliding through the air and slapping against her supple skin, how raw the red marks would be, her cries of pleasure as I slid my dick into her tight little channel.
I imagined unhooking her bra, letting those nice big tits out as I thumbed her nipples, feeling the weight of her lush breasts in my hands, sucking and biting them until she arched her back and screamed.
My cock pressed against my zipper, begging for a release.
“Her name is Emery.” The girl’s father leaned forward, studying my face for any sign I wanted to go back on our deal. I could tell he was skeptical, had been from the beginning.
I ignored him, watched for another minute as a group of frat boys in jeans and baseball hats walked by, ogling her friend and ignoring Emery. They were fools, immature boys who wouldn’t have known how to handle her body.
And then one of them let his eyes linger on her body, raking his gaze over her lush curves.
Possessiveness and jealous rage filled my body, shocking in its ferocity.
I’d never felt anything like it. I’d felt the need to dominate, of course, to make women moan and scream, to whip them, punish them, force them to submit to my every whim.
But I’d never been jealous. Not even close.
I gripped the armrest, my knuckles turning white as I fought the urge to open the door and wrestle Joe Frat Boy to the ground.
“Do we have a deal?” her father asked.
I glanced at him, already tuning him out.
All I could think of was her.
She would be mine.
