Devastate

by Valentine, Marley

  “We didn't get this big house for nothing.”

  “Can I just come and see what you're hiding,” he says, readying himself to walk in my direction.

  “Don't even think of it. You have two left”

  I take deep breaths and practice what I'm about to say in my mind. Over and over again. Finally, I watch him saunter his way over to me, and I become impatient to tell him how I feel.

  “I'm here,” he announces.

  “Just stand here while I get your box out of the jar,” I explain

  “I'll be here.”

  I give him my back and reach into the Mason jar. Pulling out the box I lift the lid and hold out the ring. You only live once.

  I turn around to find Lior kneeling on one knee with a black box of his own and a stunning ring, encrusted with diamonds the whole way around looking back at me.

  “What are you doing? I ask in shock.

  “You didn't think I would miss out on this, did you?”

  I kneel down so we're directly opposite one another. I put the two boxes beside us and hold his hand. “When I first found out your name meant light, I figured your mom must've known what your future held when she had you. Because when you came into my life, that’s exactly what you were.” Looking into his eyes, I can see the depth of our love and I hope he hears the truth of my words. “You weren’t just my light then, but you’re my light now. You brought back reason and meaning to my life when I thought all was lost. You reminded me how good it feels to be in love and to be loved.” Letting go of his right hand, I reach for the ring and place it at the tip of his finger on his left hand. “Lior Spencer, you showed me there was not only love after loss, but there was life. A life that deserved to be lived.” His eyes never leave mine. With unshed tears sitting in the corners of his eyes, I know in my heart I’ve made the right decision “You’re my lighthouse, Lior. I want you to be the one who always leads me home. Marry me?” I slide the ring down on his finger, without waiting for an answer. The second it’s in place, he crushes his lips to mine; kissing me, loving me, worshipping me.

  “ Yes,” he says in between kisses, “Yes, I’ll Marry You.”

  About the Author

  Marley Valentine comes from the future. Living in Sydney, Australia with her family, when she's not busy writing her own stories, she spends most of her time immersed in the words of her favourite authors.

  Marley Valentine is also half of Remy Blake; a male and female author duo, paired up to have some fun writing steamy, short reads with insta love/lust and a HEA. You can expect twice the debauchery in every novel they write.

  Other Books by Marley Valentine:

  Smuttily Ever After (A Bloggers Anthology)

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  Deviate

  Marley Valentine

  ELLIOT & COURTNEY | NOV. 2017 | COMING SOON

  Remy Blake

  1. Brock

  What the hell?

  Sinking into the kitchen chair, I stare at the piece of paper in my hand. Charles Martin, my best and oldest friend is dead. He passed away last week after a long illness and I just got the news now. Why didn’t he tell me he was sick? Goddammit. I remember seeing something on the news about him, but never noticed the details. And with the success Charles had achieved it wasn’t unusual to see him on television. Last I knew, he was dating some supermodel.

  A hundred images of us raising hell together from the earliest ages all the way through college assails me. He always had a permanent smile on his face and some prank up his sleeve. How can someone so full of life be gone?

  Charles was the ringleader of our duo. He led, I followed and usually it ended with both of us being grounded by our parents.

  In college, I found my own footing and began to have my own ideas about what kind of trouble we could get into. Usually, it involved a cheerleader or two and too much alcohol or weed. I’m sure our college apartment reeked of, and was covered in a permanent haze from all the weed we smoked. We threw some killer parties and we charged an admission fee big enough to support our love for all things herbal. It didn’t hurt that we went to the University of New Hampshire; a well-known party school. I smile. Those were the days.

  It’s difficult to believe I’ll never see him again. My smile fades and I run my hand down my face. I haven’t seen Charles in ten years. We lost touch for the most part, only exchanging a brief phone call or sporadic email. Life got in the way and work became a priority for both of us.

  He remained in New Hampshire after college and the technology based company he started from the ground up, took off. He was focused on making his first million, then a second and third until he became a billionaire at age thirty-four.

  I moved to Florida after I graduated from UNH and immediately entered the police academy for a local police department. Now, I’ve been on the force for thirteen years and through hard work and dedication I’ve been promoted to detective.

  Remorse sinks in. I should’ve made time for our friendship. Fuck.

  Glancing down at the letter still clutched in my hand, I flatten it out on the kitchen table and take in the contents once more. Unfortunately, the words are the same as when I read through it the first time.

  Brock Marshall, you are now the sole guardian of Ivy Colt, Charles Martin’s only child. She’s currently at a boarding school finishing up the year and will be arriving at your house the first week of June. Please schedule an appointment at your earliest convenience to come in the office and sign all the necessary documentation.

  I didn’t even know Charles had a daughter. Why the hell did he make me her guardian? I don’t know anything about kids and I don’t want to learn now at the age of thirty-five.

  Bracing my elbows on the table, my head falls into my hands. What am I going to do?

  Two days later I find myself at Hoffman and Sons, the attorneys who are handling this whole guardianship business. Sitting in the chair across from Attorney Hoffman I nervously click the pen and bounce my knee. Why do I feel like I’m about to sign my life away? Probably because I am. I’m about to become responsible for another person and their well being. If I wanted that I would’ve had kids of my own.

  “What happens to Ivy if I don’t agree to take her in?” The pen clicks some more while I study Attorney Hoffman as he types on his computer.

  Glancing up from the screen, his expression is flat. “There’s no one else to take her in. He had no other surviving relatives. Charles stipulated in his will that she can’t inherit any money unless she comes to live with you. For whatever reason, he wanted you to get to know her. If you refuse, the trust fund will go to charity and she’ll lose all claim to the money.”

  Fuck. I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger. If I don’t sign the papers she may not be starving on the streets, but she’ll lose the chance to gain her rightful inheritance. I can’t deal with that hanging over my conscience. I exhale a big sigh and add my signature on the dotted line, signing my life away as I know it.

  * * *

  Today is the big day. I’ve spent the past month getting Ivy’s room ready. My buddy Chris, a contractor, sent over a painting crew. I had him choose a shade of pink that any little girl would be happy with. I bought curtains and a comforter for her bed with the help of a sexy sales girl. She was more than happy to assist me and I left the store with not only what I went for, but her phone number too. Not that I’ll be using it any time soon. I have a feeling this guardianship thing is going to be a lot more work than I originally anticipated.

  I’ve been learning all I can about what little girls need and it’s like an alien world to me. I don’t know the first thing about braiding hair or periods.

  How am I going to do this?

  I have moments of panic about it every single day, but it’s going to happen whether I’m ready or not. A
ll I can do is my best.

  My stomach is unsettled. She’s set to arrive at any moment now.

  Attorney Hoffman coordinated everything for us. Her plane was scheduled to arrive over an hour ago, and he arranged for her to ride in a limo from the airport to my house. He thought it would be better for her to meet me here, privately than at the airport surrounded by strangers. She is the only child of Charles Martin and although she’s been well hidden until now, sooner or later the details of his estate will leak out and everyone will be clamoring for a glimpse of her.

  The barking of my next door neighbor’s dog alerts me to the car’s arrival. My palms are sweaty with nerves.

  What if she hates me?

  I wipe my hands on my pants before opening the front door, stepping outside into the humidity living in Florida can provide in June. Not even the brief afternoon shower we had earlier helped. As I move forward toward the white limousine my heart pounds with each step I take.

  The driver opens the door blocking my view of Ivy as she gets out. I stop walking and wait for him to step aside so I can get a peek at my new ward. I wonder if she’ll have blonde hair like Charles. I smile, imaging her with sandy blonde hair and a big pink bow holding her ponytail in place.

  The smile falls from my lips as I catch sight of Ivy. Little Ivy isn’t little at all. She’s a full grown adult, definitely not underage for the x rated activities her body’s inspiring my mind to think of. Fuck.

  My eyes slowly sweep over her from head to toe. My dick goes semi hard at the sight of her nipples poking out against the thin fabric of her white tank top. I don’t think she’s wearing a bra. I swallow; my mouth is suddenly dry. Her jean skirt is so short it barely covers her pussy. Is she wearing panties under there? Fuck. I hope she’s wearing panties. My dick grows at the thought. I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans and try to hide the obvious bulge.

  She sways toward me placing one foot in front of the other. Her eyes greedily move up and down my six foot two frame. Her tongue curls to slowly lick along her upper lip and her sultry eyes tell me she likes what she sees. Oh fuck. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. She’s Charles's daughter.

  She tosses her long dark brown hair over her shoulder, stopping in front of me with her tits thrust forward. She’s even sexier up close. Her full lips are painted a bright shiny pink that calls attention to them. Her eyes are a deep chocolate brown. She pouts her lips and locks eyes with me.

  “Are you my new daddy?”

  2. Ivy

  Fuck, I wish I could capture the look on his face right now. Half way between shock and amusement, his honey brown eyes are trying so hard to stay focused on my face. Little does he know I already caught him staring for two seconds too long at my tits and the shitty excuse of material I call a skirt.

  He stands with his hands in his pockets, looking relaxed and nonchalant, but the veins travelling up his forearms give away the tension coiled throughout his body. It’s obvious he’s determined to appear unaffected by my presence. An eighteen year old with a foul mouth and a knack for making people feel uncomfortable is clearly not what he signed up for. Truth is, I don’t want to be here anymore than he wants me here. I’m here because I have no choice.

  Growing up with my mom was messy. Switching up boyfriends with every season, her unsuccessful quest for true love turned me off the idea of relationships forever. While she spent years on end letting herself be manipulated by every man she let into her bed; I learned a few lessons of my own, and realized she was everything I didn’t want to be.

  Guys always think with their dick first. It’s their biggest flaw and it’s my greatest advantage. And standing here with ‘Mr. Authority’ is no different. Knowing he will try to live out his dead friend’s requests and provide a home for me, I plan on pushing all the right buttons and getting the fuck out of here.

  Stepping even closer, I lick my lips while I stare at his. His breathing comes to a halt as I invade his personal space. Instinctively my body reacts to his presence. Shivers racing up and down my spine, goosebumps erupting all over my skin. I finally meet his gaze and the flicker of desire in his eyes lets me know he feels it too. His eyes roam down my face, past my lips and settle on my tits. My breathing quickens and my nipples harden underneath his glare. I have to keep reminding myself that no matter how attractive he is, this is a game. I need him to be putty in my hands. Get him right where I want him and then run.

  “Well, are you?” I whisper.

  The sound of my voice and my breath fanning his face snaps him out of his hypnotic trance. He steps back, putting a significant distance between us. Rubbing his hands down his face, he growls through his frustration. “Am I what?”

  I arch my back, and stick my breasts out. Nipples on full display, I’m ready to work my best assets. “Don’t you want me to call you Daddy?” I pout.

  Squeezing his eyes shut, he turns around; giving me his back.

  “Can you just stop talking for a minute and follow me inside?” He snaps.

  I bite back the natural urge to have the last say and quietly follow him and all his charm into the house. Wearing a navy blue tee and well worn jeans; on the surface he looks almost exactly how I pictured. But with the majority of his arms exposed, his fists clenching with each step, and swirls of ink decorating his skin, I know there’s nothing predictable about this man. Every move he makes accentuates his muscles deliciously. His body is the epitome of strength and virility. Teasing me, luring me in. Imagining all the ways he can throw me over his shoulders and show off the sculpted alpha male look that he wears so well. Shit, Mr. Temperamental is hot.

  I struggle to work out what he and my father had in common, or why he would even agree to taking me in, but I also know I can’t get caught up in the details. Details slow you down. They mean you’re attached, that you care, and I don’t.

  Walking through the doorway is like stepping into an alternate universe. I expected a live-in bar; a living room full of beer bottles, a seventy-five-inch flat screen TV mounted on the wall and a stench of alcohol and tobacco to be imbedded in the carpet. But this is a home. Spacious and luxurious, the house is full of modern furniture and sleek appliances. The living room opens into the kitchen where a glass window stretches against the length of the house; showcasing the only reason I’m excited to be living here. A pool. Before my mind has time to catch up, my body is already walking toward the picture perfect sight in front of me. I’m dreaming of how nice it could be to sit in the sun; reading and swimming whenever I want to. I’m a city girl; I bleed bright lights, loud noises and crowded places. I live for the hustle and bustle. But here I can see how easy it is to fall in love with the laid-back lifestyle.

  The noise of someone clearing their throat behind me snaps me out of my daze, and the reality of where I am and why I’m here hits me straight in the gut. Preparing myself to turn around I take a deep breath and put my game face on. Stick to the plan, Ivy.

  The look on my face must show my confusion, as I notice him holding my bags in his hands.

  “I got them from the car while you were...” he nods his head to the window, letting me know he watched me be enamored by the view.

  The mood in the room has shifted. It’s a lot more calmer and I don’t like it.

  “Thanks Daddy,” I say with a smirk. Just like I wanted, the tension in his body returns at the mention of his new nickname.

  “Your room is upstairs. First door on the left. I’m going to put your bags up there and we can talk when you’re settled in.” he states.

  A brain snap has me walking ahead of him and leading the way up the stairs. I hear him mutter something under his breath, and I know we’re back on track. This skirt hides nothing, so with every sway of my ass, I’m one step closer to getting him right where I need him to be.

  Pushing the door open, my eyes are blinded by pink walls. Abruptly, I stop in the doorway and a lump of man walks straight into me. I feel his erection against the top of my ass, and I push back into
him.

  “While I’m all up for a little bit of wood action, we need to discuss the My Little Pony party that’s going on in this room.” I turn to him, because his facial expressions have quickly become a new addiction. “Or did you and all your Floridian friends have a pink Disney princess party and forget to clean up?”

  He drops my bags, the thud making the floor vibrate. Walking me backwards he pushes me into the room until my back hits a wall. Hands grip my chin and our eyes bore into one another, anger and lust dancing around like flames in his eyes.

  “My name’s Brock,” he says through clenched teeth. “You can call me Brock. And only Brock”

  Releasing my chin, he walks backward and holds my stare.

  “Oh, and Princess, this party is all for you.”

  Click HERE to read all of GUARDIAN

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  Acknowledgments

  I thought writing the book was hard. The acknowledgements are much harder. Fingers crossed I don’t miss anyone.

  Andrew, and Jax, you’re my world.

  Thank you to my family. Without you I wouldn’t have been able to finish this story. You let me live and breath Evie and Lior until I was done, no questions asked. For that I am forever grateful. Steph, keep up the Monday tradition; I have more books to write.

  Laura, there is no way this book would have been written without you. You let me agonise over every sentence and you read every word as I wrote it. You never complained, and when I wanted to give up, you reminded me it wasn’t an option. You work so hard and you love even harder. I thank J everyday for bringing you into my life. God works in mysterious ways - I love you.