by J. Nathan
My breath hitched as his hand slipped between us, his fingers sliding between my folds.
“You are ready,” he mused.
“I guess I missed you.”
“What a nice surprise,” he said.
“There’s that word again,” I said.
“Yeah, well, this is going to be a lot better than nice. I can assure you of that.” He reached for his nightstand and slipped a condom out of the drawer, tearing it with his teeth, and reaching down to roll it on.
My pulse sped. This was happening. We were happening.
Chase braced his weight on his elbows beside my head and gazed down at me. “This means something to me, Soph.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I nodded.
“I needed to wait to do this until you knew the real me.”
My heart constricted. I didn’t know if I could take any more of his honesty.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said.
He captured my lips in a delicious kiss as his hips began to roll. He shifted slightly so his erection moved between my legs, slipping over my folds. He wasn’t trying to push inside me yet. He was teasing me with the sensations he was creating each time he hit my clit. He didn’t stop kissing me, even when I felt the tip press against my entrance. I sucked in a sharp breath, but he captured it with his lips, deepening the kiss as his hips thrust a little harder. My knees fell open, and that’s all it took. He pushed once, then twice, then one more time before he stretched me wide. I groaned as Chase abandoned my lips and gazed down at me, gauging my expression. “You good?”
I nodded, not sure if it hurt or felt amazing to be connected to him in this way.
“Can I move?” he asked.
I nodded.
He started off slow, likely gauging my face and pinched eyes for pain as he moved in and out of me. Once I was used to the feel of him, I opened my eyes. He stared down at me with hooded eyes. I found myself too lost in those eyes to notice any pain. I slipped my hands behind his back, coasting them up and down his smooth skin. I lowered my hands to his ass, loving the feel of him clenching as he moved in and out of me. He shifted his hips again, and he hit a spot inside me that sent my legs trembling. “Do that again,” I breathed.
He moved again, hitting the same spot.
My back arched off the bed and my head pressed into the pillow. “Oh, my God, yes.”
His lips quirked, continuing his rhythm, in and out, faster and harder, hitting that spot and making me see stars. My eyes pinched tight. My body’s internal spring began to coil. A rush of sensations twisted up inside of me. I held my breath. And as he thrust into me a few more times, the twisting released, and the sensations rippled out, sending tremors rushing to all parts of my body. I felt a warmth spread over me as my body quivered. This was so much better than what we’d done in my dorm room. Chase continued pounding into me, chasing the euphoria he’d given me. He groaned into my neck as his hips stopped moving and he stilled inside of me, his body going rigid. With his breathing labored, he lifted his head and pressed his forehead to mine. “Holy. Shit,” he breathed.
I chuckled as he lowered himself on top of me. I held his sweaty body to me, enjoying the feel of our breaths working in tandem. This was what I’d waited for. Chase was everything I waited for. He was everything I needed. And everything I wanted.
“You think you want to do that again?” he asked.
“I think I want to do that all the time with you.”
He laughed. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”
“Depends.”
He lifted his head and rested his chin on my chest. “On what?”
“Are you taking me skydiving?”
His eyes widened.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared.”
He tipped his head. “Do I look scared?”
“You look hot. And, I’m kind of wondering when we’re gonna get to use your handcuffs.”
He dropped back his head and laughter tumbled out of him. And when he laughed like that, I knew this thing with us was meant to be. And no matter how difficult a road it had been getting to this place, there was nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.
EPILOGUE
Two Years Later
Chase
I stood in the doorway of our bedroom, watching Sophia fixing herself in the mirror. Her hair hung in loose curls past her shoulders, her black graduation cap fixed in place on her head. The normally unflattering gown did nothing to detract from how fucking beautiful she was. I couldn’t help beaming with pride as I drank her in, knowing how lucky I was she’d chosen me—even after how difficult I’d made things in the beginning.
After Chantel’s trial, we decided there was no better way to celebrate the verdict than to move in together. The judge showed no leniency, finding Chantel guilty of concealing an accidental death, as well as blackmailing and causing duress to Valerie. He sentenced her to two years in prison—the severest punishment for the crimes she could get. And, the icing on the whole fucking cake was Chantel’s father was disbarred for aiding in the cover-up and not disclosing his knowledge of the accident. The piece of shit deserved to suffer right along with his over-privileged daughter.
“Hey,” Sophia said, spotting me in the doorway in my suit.
I knew I’d sweat my ass off in a dark suit at the outdoor ceremony, but I also knew it fit the momentous occasion. “You almost ready?” I asked. “You look amazing by the way.”
She laughed. “Thanks.”
I walked over and wrapped my arms around her, careful not wrinkle her gown or bump her cap that seemed to be fixed in place by too many hair pins. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Stop trying to make me cry,” she said.
I stepped back releasing her from my arms. “What’s that?” I asked, my gaze on something behind her.
She turned, following my gaze to the tall dresser in the corner of our room.
The MVP trophy she received after her soccer championship win stood proudly on top of it. My girl kicked some serious ass on a soccer field. I guess I should’ve known she would. From our first meeting, when she was drunk as all get out, she still put my ass in its place. So many nights after, I replayed that exchange in my head wanting to hate her for making me feel anything toward her. And so many days after, I tried getting the same reaction out of her. Because if she hated me, I couldn’t fall for her. Right?
“What?” she asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Your mason jar. It looks like something’s in it.”
She squinted at the jar that sat beside her trophy, noticing I was right. There was something inside it. “What is it? We did everything.”
I walked over and picked up the jar, examining the contents. “There’s one more paper.”
“There can’t be.”
She was right. We had done every last thing in that jar, but I handed it to her anyway. “Hurry up. We still have time before you graduate.”
She unfastened the top of the jar and reached inside.
My heartbeat began to gallop like a fucking race horse.
Her fingers snatched the folded-up sheet of paper that looked like all the rest had in the bottom of the jar. She looked to me.
I nodded my encouragement.
She unfolded the paper and read it aloud. “Marry Chase Shaw.” Her eyes flashed up—make that down—to me now kneeling in front of her.
She gasped like I knew she would.
Man, I loved that sound.
“That’s my wish, Soph,” I said. “I’ve helped make your wishes come true, now I’m hoping you help make one of my wishes come true.”
Tears glazed her eyes as she gazed down at me, staring at me with so much love—love I never thought was possible.
I grasped hold of her left hand. “I promise to make you happy every day for the rest of your life.” My thumb brushed over the back of her hand, so smooth and soft like the rest of her
body. “And I promise to be the reason you have new and exciting experiences whenever you want to have them, no matter how crazy they may be.”
She laughed, and the happy tears in her eyes threatened to fall. “I told you not to make me cry.”
I smiled up at her. “What do you say, Soph? Will you make me the happiest guy alive and marry me?”
Not needing a second to consider it, she nodded. “Yes.”
I pulled the one-carat platinum ring I knew she’d love from my pocket and slipped it onto her finger. Before she could even admire it, I swept her up into my arms—this time not worrying about wrinkling her gown—and kissed her. The tears rolling down her cheeks added salt to our kiss. And though I didn’t think anything could top our first kiss in the library when I didn’t give her a chance to resist me—because I physically couldn’t hold out any longer, this one held so much more. It held promises and assurances for our future together.
Sophia pulled back and stared into my eyes. “I love you. You’re the reason so many good things have happened in my life.”
The warmth of knowing I was thoroughly and completely loved by this amazing woman swept over me, and regardless of the circumstances that brought us together, I knew with much certainty that Sophia was my happily ever after.
It hadn’t taken long after meeting her that I came to my senses and realized my happiness depended on her happiness—depended on making her wishes come true. That’s when I knew I was too far gone to ever recover unscathed. And as much as I wanted to believe I was the reason for all the good things that happened in her life, I knew she would’ve done them without me. She was a fighter. And she’d been right. She didn’t back down from any challenge.
And whether we were getting tattoos, riding in hot air balloons, skydiving, surfing, or I was helping her dye her hair blond (for that one month junior year until I couldn’t take looking at her as a blonde any longer), I was the lucky guy who got to be by her side as she carried out every last wish on her bucket list. And that made me so fucking happy.
There was only one thing left to do—besides marry her. I needed to get her started on a new list that included me and all our future adventures. Because there wasn’t a doubt in my mind, it was going to be one hell of a ride.
The End
Enjoy a Sample of For Finlay
Finlay
“Hey, sweetheart. Why don’t you bring me a little something over here?”
I sucked back what I really wanted to say to the big oaf wearing only his shoulder pads and football pants as I crossed the locker room filled with college football players in all stages of dress. I plastered on my ‘I could give a damn’ face and maneuvered around the players, careful not to get too close to what they didn’t bother covering up with me in the room. I extended a water bottle to the idiot.
A smug smile slipped across his face. “I didn’t say I wanted water.”
The room exploded with cackles and hoots of laughter.
I stifled my annoyance as I pulled back my shoulders and turned away from him like it didn’t faze me.
“Hey. Where you going, sweetheart?” he drawled.
I caught the sky-blue eyes of the quarterback seated on the stool in front of his locker lacing up his cleats. He looked surprised I’d held my tongue. Hell, I was surprised I’d held it when all I really wanted to do was tell the offensive lineman I’d come to hate—the one who’d been razzing me since I’d begun with the team a week before—where to stick his jock strap.
My eyes flashed away, seeking out my spot in the corner of the room where I waited for someone who actually needed a drink to signal me over.
Coach Burns burst into the crowded locker room rattling off the game plan for the start of their first closed scrimmage of the season. Fall semester began in a couple weeks. Football players and team staff started early, hence my presence on campus during the last few weeks of summer.
I looked out at the football players, all primed with black paint under their eyes for a battle against a local college. They sat focused on the coach’s words like football was life. Like it meant anything in the grand scheme of things.
I inhaled a deep breath. I could do it. I could be there. A hundred miles from home. Starting college at a school I never planned to attend. One I never even considered attending. It was never my dream. It had always been his.
* * *
Cole ran across our backyard. He was taller and leaner than most of the ten-year-old boys in town, owing his athletic build to football. He played every day whether he had practice or not. And on days when he had no one to play with, in other words when I wasn’t around or didn’t feel like it, he threw into a tire swing our dad hung from an old oak tree in the backyard.
I pulled back my arm and tossed Cole the ball. Though a little wobbly, he reached over his head, nabbed the off-center pass, and tucked it against his side. He took off running toward our mother’s flower bed at the edge of our property, celebrating when he reached it like he just caught the game winning pass in an actual game.
I brushed my long dark hair out of my face and dug my hands into my hips, waiting for his excessive celebration to stop. Even at ten, my twin’s confidence drove me nuts. He was such a showoff. Rightfully so, but it still irked me. So did my friends who came over to play with me but ended up staring at Cole the entire time.
He finally stopped his ridiculous dance and turned to me, his face suddenly serious. “You throw like a girl.”
My eyes flared. “I am a girl.”
“Yeah.” His lips pulled up in one corner. “Sometimes I forget.”
I stuck out my tongue. “Idiot.”
“Loser.”
We both laughed as he tossed me a perfect spiral which I caught easily. Growing up with a football phenom taught me some impressive skills.
“Maybe by the time we go to college, there’ll be more female football players,” he said as I tossed him back the ball.
I scrunched up my face, completely thrown by his admission. “You think I’m good enough to play?”
He shrugged. “You’re better than most of the guys on my team.”
I smiled on the inside, never letting my brother know how much his words meant to me. He thought I was good. Cole Thatcher, football player extraordinaire, thought I was good.
* * *
I stood on the sideline under the unbearable August sun. There was no reprieve from an Alabama summer. Pool water turned to bath water, and lakes were overcrowded. So, unless you were brave enough to jump into a cold shower, you dealt with the heat. And out there in the open stadium, the sun beat down like a mother.
A couple players ran over to the sideline, pulling off their shiny red helmets revealing damp hair and sweaty red faces. The once menacing black paint trailed like tear drops down their cheeks. They grabbed the water bottles I extended to them. “Thanks,” the shorter one uttered, while the taller downed the contents of his without taking a breath.
They tossed me back the empty bottles. I grabbed two more from the bench and searched for anyone else looking for sustenance. When no one caught my eye, I hurried to my back-up supply in the big jug behind the bench and filled the empty bottles.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Ugh. That freaking voice.
“Get your ass over here.”
I turned, eyeing the asshole approaching me with nothing but disgust. And while I had a million comebacks for his inappropriate comments, I held my tongue—at least for the time being. I needed to be there. A prick like him wasn’t going to drive me away.
“Didn’t you see me motioning for you out there?” he growled.
Yup. I shook my head. “Sorry.”
“Well, give me a damn drink,” he ordered, colder than usual.
I bit down on my bottom lip as I handed him the bottle, wishing I’d spit in it first.
He ripped it from my hand. “Coach might’ve gotten one with tits this time,” he said to no one in particular. “But she’s sure dumb as dirt.�
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I sucked back a sharp breath.
“Grady!” a deep voice shouted. “That’s enough.”
I froze, startled that someone actually had the balls to stand up to the three-hundred pound brute.
Grady’s eyes lifted over my shoulder. A cold calculated grin—nearly concealed by his pathetic attempt at a beard—tugged at his lips. “This don’t concern you, Brooks.”
“Leave her alone,” the quarterback warned.
Grady laughed wickedly before his eyes shot back to mine. “Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart. Brooks ain’t nobody’s Prince Charming. He’d fuck you then ditch you in a matter of seconds.” Grady downed the water and tossed the bottle to the ground as he lumbered away.
I didn’t turn around. I knew who Caden Brooks was. I’d known before I even arrived on campus. Junior star quarterback. His conquests epic, making his way from his home state of California to Alabama in grand-freaking-style. And his looks…well, he certainly was pretty. If football didn’t work out, his dirty blond hair, blue eyes, and body people bowed down to would be gracing underwear billboards in Times Square in no time. But the last thing I needed to see was Brooks waiting for a thank you. Waiting for me to fawn all over him like every other girl.
Not a chance in hell that was happening.
“You okay?” Brooks asked from somewhere behind me.
My head whipped around, my dark ponytail slapping me in the face. My eyes locked on his sweaty face, his eyes prominent in the bright afternoon sun. “I could’ve handled it,” I scowled.
His head recoiled, the lack of appreciation catching him off guard. “Yeah, looked like you were handling it.” Of course he recovered. Guys accustomed to people kissing their asses always recovered, never letting anyone see them falter. As if on cue, his features sobered. I watched it happen. I watched him realize I wasn’t worth his time.
I wasn’t. Nor would I ever want to be. I hated Caden Brooks. I hated him with everything I had left in the world.
“No worries,” he said. “I won’t make that mistake again.” He turned and walked toward the other end of the sideline.
