by Blue Saffire
I shove my head under the pillow and scream in frustration. Everything was going so well. Why’d he have to go and ruin it? And why’d I have to act like such an ass? So he told some puppy that he loved me. He didn’t tell me. I could have ignored it, pretended like I didn’t know. I could have spent my last few days here in blissful, albeit fake, ignorance.
A sudden slap lands on my butt, and I roll over with a yelp. I rub my hand over my butt cheek as Beccs sits down on the edge of my bed, cackling.
“God, Beccs! You’re such a—”
“What, exactly?” She falls forward onto my bed, belly first. Wrapping her arms around a pillow for support, she places her cheek on it and stares at me innocently. Her legs kick up behind her, like scissors.
“You know what, I hate you.” I throw my pillow at her.
She rolls her eyes. “You know you looooove me,” she sings. “That’s why I’m here to tell you that you need to get your shit together and talk to Homer.”
Gah! Not this again. “Beccs—”
“Don’t you ‘Beccs’ me, young lady!” Her tone reminds me of my mom’s when she knew I knew she was right. “We made a promise to each other, Claire. That when one of us acts like we’re losing our shit, the other will smack some sense into their pea brain for them. Soooo, that’s what I’m doing.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” I turn to roll off the bed, but she’s having none of it. She grabs a hold of my hand and pulls me right back down. “Hey! Ow!” I yell.
“Now you listen to me, Ms. Young. I’m sick and tired of your bullshit, and you’re going to sit your ass down and listen to what I have to say. You got me?”
“Yes,” I pout, wrapping my arms under my breasts.
“Homer is one of the best humans I know. Girls ’round here have flocked to him for years, and none of them have found a flaw in that man.”
I roll my eyes. “I know all of this, Beccs. You’ve told me all about the volunteer work he does with non-profits, and how he’s the only jock who hasn’t slept with every girl on the cheer squad.”
“Okay, fine. You know all of this. But you know what you don’t know?”
I quirk an eyebrow. “That’s kind of a weird thing to say.”
“No weirder than my best friend fucking up her life because she’s off her rocker and confused.” She gives me a pointed look, daring me to argue. I don’t. I’ve tried in the past. When Beccs gets her high-and-mighty voice on, it’s best to just give up and let her win. “Right. Well . . . the thing I know that you don’t know, because I didn’t know until very recently—”
“You’re hurting my head with your weird word-twist thing, Beccs.” I rub my forehead.
“Fine. You know that asshole Aaron, the one who hangs out with Homer quite a bit?”
“You mean, your man-meat?”
“Yeah. That one . . . he told me that Homer has a message for you . . . you ready for it?”
For what? What more could there possibly be to say? My brow knots with confusion. I love Beccs, but good god, does she take her sweet-ass time milking every last ounce of patience when trying to make a point. What did Homer want me to know?
“Out with it, Beccs. What’s the message?” I snap when she gives me nothing but a wink. My hackles rise as I realize what just happened.
I got played by the one and only Rebecca Young.
She’s grinning ear to ear.
I throw a pillow at her and groan, falling back on the bed. “Have I mentioned that I hate you?”
“No, you love him.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“No, I don’t. And just because you say I do, doesn’t mean I actually do.”
“Uh, yeah, it does. Besides, it’s not just me who thinks it. There’s someone else here who’s going to break you down, make you confess your darkest, deepest feelings. Because Rebecca Young is never—and I do mean, never—wrong.” She’s breathing hard as she finishes her statement. “Okay, now, if you’ll just sit tight a moment . . .” She whistles twice, short and sharp. It reminds of my first trip to the barn, and the tack room that served as puppy heaven.
“What are you doing?” I ask when she whistles again. Something fishy’s going on.
A figure comes around the corner, fumbling in from the hall. Aaron. “Hey, Claire.”
“Aaron?” I point to him, smirking at Beccs. “Are you for real? Aaron’s going to make me confess my feelings for Homer? I think you’ve lost your marbles, Beccs.”
“Ha. Sarcasm’s still intact, I see. Just hold on a minute.” Beccs snaps her fingers at Aaron, standing from the bed. “Where’s . . . you know?”
“What are you guys talking about?” I ask, looking from Beccs to Aaron, then back to Beccs. That’s when I hear it.
A little yip. Followed by another.
Oh my lord. I think my heart just melted into a puddle. I fall to my knees next to my bed as a fluffy little puffball wiggles its way into my room. “Koda? Oh my god. Look at you! You’re all grown up, you little stinker.” I scoop the little animal into my arms, laughing and giggling as he licks and yips happily. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”
I’d told Homer on our many visits to the farm that I was planning to puppy-nap this little guy, but I never thought he’d send him to me as a gift. Especially after the way I left things between us.
My heart aches as I remember his expression when I screamed at him. When I told him he was at fault.
“Oh, Koda, what am I going to do?” Koda yips, his tail wagging. “The way I treated him . . . god, it was awful, Koda. I don’t know if I’ll ever be forgiven. I don’t think I should be forgiven.”
He yips again, licking my face this time. It reminds me of the first time I met him, of the surprise Homer arranged for me. He’d never been anything less than amazing to me, and I . . . I don’t know. Every moment I spent with him, every touch, every word . . . he’d made me feel important. Like I mattered. And they mattered, those moments. I’ve hung on to them, I realize. On to him. And I don’t want to let him go.
From the first moment I saw him, I knew. He was never just some fling. From the second I threw my handbag at him, he was always more. I was just too afraid to admit it. My stupid little rule never stood a prayer.
“Oh god, Koda,” I whisper, tears pooling in my eyes as realization dawns. “I love him. I love Homer. And now I’ve gone and messed everything up.”
“I don’t know about that.”
My head jerks up at the sound of that voice. Slowly, barely daring to breathe, to hope, I turn toward the entrance of my room.
“Hey there, darlin’.”
17
Homer
“Homer?” she breathes, her voice cracking. Tears fall down her cheeks. I want so badly to wipe them away, to gather her in my arms and never let anything hurt her again. But I don’t know if we’re there yet. So instead, I wait, clutching the container in my hands like the killswitch on an atomic bomb.
She places Koda on her bed and pushes up to her feet. She doesn’t say a word. I take a step toward her. She doesn’t move.
I take that as a good sign. I heard what she said before I stepped into the room, but my heart isn’t willing to believe it yet.
Not until I’m sure.
Not until she’s sure.
Not until I know she sees how great we are together.
“There are only a few things I’m certain of in life, Claire,” I start, hesitantly. “One: my grandparents love me more than any child deserves to be loved. Two: this shepherd’s pie Mama made doesn’t hold a candle to the last one you made.” I toss the container on her bed with a cheeky grin. “Even Papa agreed.”
She chuckles, just a little, but then presses her lips together, covering her face to hide her tears.
“And three . . .” I take a deep breath as I close the last of the gap between us. I snake my hand around her neck and pull her to me, our foreheads pressed against one another. “You’re
it, Clarie. You’re it for me.” My throat hurts from the effort of keeping my emotions back. I swallow, but it doesn’t help. “I know you’re afraid. I am, too.”
She looks up through eyelashes wet with tears.
“I’m afraid that I’m going to have to live my life without you in it. I’m afraid that one day, I’m going to move on and forget about you. I’m afraid that one day, what we had this summer will be nothing more than a blip in your mind. And I don’t want any of that to be true.”
I push back a little, cupping her cheeks with my hands. “I can’t promise you that our love won’t be all consuming. But, for what it’s worth, I can promise you that I’ll never let our love taint our future, or our children’s futures, the way your parents’ tainted yours. So, what do you say? Give us a shot, Claire. Let’s see where this road leads. Because I know, if I don’t try”—I shake my head—“no, if we don’t try, then we’ll be missing out on the greatest love story ever to be made.”
She hiccups softly, her lip quivering as she stares up at me. Tears well and fall. I wipe them away with my thumbs. The moment stretches between us, anxiety and fear clawing at the inside of my throat the longer she stands there, saying nothing.
Please. Don’t shut me out, Claire.
And then her lips crash into mine. I don’t know who moved first. All I know is that she’s kissing me, and I’m kissing her, and it’s desperate, and hot, and full of everything we can’t bring ourselves to say.
She hops up into my arms with a strangled sob, wrapping her legs around my waist, and I walk us the few feet back to her bed. I lay her down gently, and then pull back. She doesn’t want to let me go, clinging to me with a desperation that both thrills and scares me.
“Hold on, baby. Just . . . give me a moment . . . ” I manage to untangle myself, straightening up as she looks at me with a mix of confusion and hurt. Reaching down, I grab Koda by the scruff, and then cross back to her bedroom door. I toss him out into the hall, making eye contact with Aaron and Rebecca. Aaron gives me a grin and a double thumbs-up. Rebecca just rolls her eyes and drags him away toward the stairs.
This is it. I gently close the bedroom door and take a deep breath. I turn around slowly, only to realize that Claire’s sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes trained on me. I honestly can’t tell what’s going through her mind.
She pushes up to her feet, waiting as I make it back to her side.
“How much are you willing to risk for us?” she asks.
“As much as either of us can handle,” I respond. “Love should never be about forcing people together, Claire. And if it starts to feel that way, then is that really love? And if we’re not in love, is there any risk left to be taken?”
She studies me a moment longer, her eyes darting from one side of my face to the other. She walks her hand up my chest and around to my back of my neck, pulling my body snug against hers.
“Make love to me, Homer Lovelly,” she whispers. “Show me that all that talk isn’t just talk.”
I laugh and flick her nose. “Always the smart one, aren’t you?”
“You haven’t seen half of it.” She pulls off my shirt in one fluid motion, and I hold back a smile.
“Well then, I suppose there’s no time like the present to start.”
She leans in and takes a soft bite out of my ear, giving it a soft lick. “Besides, isn’t that part of the reason you love me?” she purrs before her lips cover mine. She tugs up on her oversized t-shirt, pulling it over her head until she get stucks in it.
“Let me help you with that.” I pull it the rest of the way off. Her hair falls over her shoulders in waves. Sexy as hell. She bites down on her lip as I take in the view. My hard-on springs to life.
“Looks like someone wants to come out and play.”
“Not yet.” I gently push her backward onto the bed. I kiss my way up her stomach before my hand glides back and unhooks her bra. I pull it off achingly slow, my eyes never leaving hers.
“Lay still,” I instruct her as I start to kiss my way down her neck, making a stop to appreciate each of her nipples before coming to her belly. I graze my mouth over her stomach with a kiss and listen to her gasp.
I continue my trail of kisses until I reach the top of her panties. Hooking my thumbs, I slide them off in one easy move. “Tonight is all about you, darlin’. I hope you’re ready to experience all the promises I’ve made.”
With that, I kiss the place that I’ve imagined time and time again since meeting her, taking my time to tease and lick every last inch.
Claire’s breathing comes out in heavy pants as she bucks her hips against me. She digs her fingernails into my shoulder when I pass a long flick of my tongue across her center.
“Oh, god. Homer.” She writhes under my tongue, pulling and pushing me, as though she’s unable to make up her mind. I push a single finger into her, drawing another gasp from her lips.
“Homer. Please. Don’t. Stop.”
I wasn’t planning on it. I continue until her walls clench around me and she cries out, even as she stills above me, her legs holding me in place. When I know she’s ridden out her orgasm as far as it will take her, I make my way back to her lips, peppering kisses all along her body.
She looks at me with dazed eyes, a smile on her face.
“Was it good?” I chuckle.
“Best one yet,”she says. “Now, to return the favor.”
I shake my head. “Nope. Not tonight. Tonight is all for you, darlin’.”
Moving back to my knees, I unbutton my pants, then quickly remove the rest of the clothing. My hard-on stands at attention, ready to dive in.
“Wow,” Claire gasps.
A smile creeps across my face as I align my hips over hers. Claire moans into my mouth when I kiss her, her legs already parting for me.
“Make love to me, Homer.” She reaches down between us and guides me to her. I run my length over her warm slickness, teasing both of us in the process.
Claire lets out a heated cry, and I know I’m about to lose my shit.
I push in a little and check to see if Claire’s okay. She smiles, tugging at my ass, encouraging. “Keep looking at me, darlin’. I want you to remember when you wake up tomorrow morning, who it is that’s been between these sweet legs.”
I thrust in hard, and her eyes go wide. “Fuck, baby. You’re so tight,” I groan, willing myself not to lose my shit right away. “You okay?” I ask, kissing her over her ear.
She nods, panting, her breathing matching my own. “Yes,” she moans, pushing me in further by the small of my back. I go with it, settling myself deep inside her. Every time I pull back, she clenches, and I groan.
“You feel amazing, Claire.” I thrust into her again and again, until both of us fall into beautiful bliss.
This right here, the two of us together, is heaven.
Happy and satisfied.
In love.
Forever and always.
“I love you, Claire Young,” I say as I kiss her gently.
“And I love you, Homer Lovelly.”
The End
Continue the Lovelly Series in book one, Forever Kinda Love.
https://authorclarastone.com/books/lovelly-series/
Newsletter
https://authorclarastone.com/newsletter
About the Author
Clara Stone writes YA/NA Contemporary Romance and Paranormal Romance stories and is a complete sucker for sweet, memorable kisses. She strongly believes that true love conquers EVERYTHING, along with a tub of Ice cream!
* * *
When she isn’t reading or writing or dancing, much to the embarrassment of her husband and two kids, she’s probably watching Supernatural or The Walking Dead. So, if she sounds like your cup of syrup to your pancakes (or waffles… no favorites here), then check her website to find all the place you can “Follow” her and stay updated of her upcoming releases, book sales, and book recommendations!
https://authorclarastone.com
<
br /> A Different Kind of Pain
Summer Graystone
A Different Kind of Pain © 2018 Summer Graystone
* * *
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Created with Vellum
A Different Kind of Pain
Would Luka be able give Maisy this one last wish, something more profound, more precious than he ever deserved?
* * *
There was just something about them, about the couple in the picture. An ad for a caregiver for a beautiful woman a woman who was dying. Though Melia’s sass and rough-around-the-edges attitude meant she couldn’t take every job out there, she should’ve been able to handle this one.
* * *
There was a problem though a big one. The dying woman’s husband, Luka. Those brilliant, haunted eyes of his… did something to her. They were the kind of eyes a girl had no defense against. Falling for a man she could never have and should never have was simply wrong, no matter how right she knew it would be. Sure, she needed the pay… but there was a whole lot more at stake here than money.
