by C. J. Wells
Her blue-gray eyes stare back at me, the ever-raging fire and passion we can’t seem to distinguish pouring from her gaze.
“It’s indescribable how breathtaking you are, Aby,” I whisper, swiping my finger along her delicate jaw. “I need you now,” I lean down to kiss her lips, “…forever. Always,” I continue amid swipes of my tongue, her avid surrender swelling my male pride.
Opening the door, I pull her inside, our lips crashing before the closing of the door behind us. She gasps as I release her, spinning her in place to unfasten her beautiful dress, my eyes begging the quickening of my measures, desperate to see her, my hands desperate to feel every bare inch.
She turns to face me, her perfect bottom lip bitten between her teeth as she allows the strapless gown to fall to the floor, pooling at her feet. Fuck. The visual is jaw dropping. And I take my time devouring her from the bottom up.
The sexiest white stiletto heels, long, mouthwatering legs wrapped in stockings, held sinfully by the clips of her garter…my dick threatens to explode from the confines of my pants at the sight. Her perfect bellybutton teases my tongue, peeking from her bare midriff below the white strapless bustier, her deliciously perfect breasts cupped in its lace. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was drooling, possibly frothing at the mouth.
“Like what you see?” she asks, devilish desire oozing from her angel face, her lips parted with fucking, sexy need.
Oh you have no idea, I shake my head, staring down at her. Mine.
“Yours,” she whispers in response to my unspoken decree, as I bend to lift her in my arms.
TURN THE PAGE FOR AN EXCITING AND SEXY SNEAK PEEK OF C.J. WELLS’ UPCOMING RELEASE
Coming Summer 2015
“YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE! A fucking asshole, actually,” she spits, and I roll my eyes; I’ve heard it all before. “There’s not even a word to accurately describe you…you’re a…a…DICK!”
Sighing, I finish fastening my jeans and grab my shirt from the floor. “That’s mighty feisty attitude coming from a chick that just sucked my dick.” Flashing her a wink with my notorious smirk, I pull my T-shirt over my head, noting her open-mouthed gape as I make my way towards the door.
“Lose my number, asshole,” she slurs.
Turning to her from the open doorway, I offer a final pull of my lips before filling her in, “Sweetheart, I didn’t bother to note it.” I just manage to close the door before the item she threw towards me smashes against the other side. From the sound of the breaking glass, I assume it was a picture frame? Maybe a lamp? Who knows?
Why women feel the need to throw things is beyond me. It’s fucked up. So, you’re pissed. Is fucking breaking something going to make you feel better? Maybe rethink the decision to throw yourself at the guy before turning on him for taking what you were offering. Or, maybe add your disclaimer before you wrap your lips around my cock - you know, the one that tells me you want more; the one that will tip me off to keep walking before I dip my dick in your happily-ever-after-wanting pussy.
And then they call me an asshole. Is it my fault if a woman approaches me at a bar? And just to be clear, by approaches, I’m referring to obvious ‘I want your dick in my mouth’ innuendos. Not assumed. Obvious. I never act on assumption. That would make me an asshole. Right? Wrong. I’m an asshole anyway, for excusing myself once I opt out of the non-disclosed figurative leash they try to collar me with afterwards.
I don’t do happily-ever-after. It’s bullshit. Fucking bullshit. I learned that lesson a long time ago. Four years ago, to be exact. When she left. She taught me that that bullshit doesn’t exist. Maybe I should thank her for that. Maybe I could…if her last words weren’t so fucking torturing…“You’re my always, baby, always mine.” Maybe I could…if I could even fucking find her.
Maybe one day I’ll stop looking.
We have so many wonderful people to thank…family, friends - new and old, many met along this amazing journey. Much love!
To our WONDERFUL readers, thank you for embracing The Perfect Plans Series! Thank you for picking up that book, and giving us newbies a chance. Thank you for taking the time to leave a review, for spreading the word, and for stopping by with your loving words of praise and encouragement. Without you, our stories would not be heard.
To the INCREDIBLE Book Bloggers, thank you, thank you, thank you! What you do for Indie Authors is so greatly appreciated. You give your time tirelessly, to promote, encourage, and support. #BloggersRock
Thank you to our Beta readers. Without you, our books would have been sooooo close, but no cigar ;) You helped keep the cherry on top. Your honesty and time is so much appreciated. #Gratitude
To our AMAZING Author friends, you ‘get’ us, and we love you for that. Being a part of such a wonderful support system is incredibly rewarding. #AuthorsSupportingAuthors
Team Uni…what can we say? Thank goodness for rainbows, unicorns, and pixie farts. We love you dearly. #TeamUni
To our Editor, C.P., thank you for giving Alex head, and for setting ours straight.
To our loving husbands, there are not enough words to convey our love and gratitude. Thank you for your constant encouragement, your endless patience, and your understanding. Thank you for your cuddles when we would crawl into bed late at night. We love you.
To our family/children, you are loved more than you could ever know. To quote Alexander Tate, “Trust me when I say, the few hours I get to spend with you are worth a thousand hours I spend without you.”
Co-Authors, and sisters, Christa Gibbs and Jill Syed reside in London, Ontario, Canada. Born and raised on da’Rock [a.k.a. St. John’s, Newfoundland], their laid-back personalities and eclectic sense of humor is indicative of their native roots. Although fluent in Newfinese, both are quite eloquently spoken, showing no remnants of an accent unless alcohol is involved.
Fluent in air-guitar [she trained in Europe], Christa, by day, transforms into her Executive role in the Property Management World. This wonderful position lends credence to her altruistic life experiences lived vicariously through the many residents within her keep. This translates beautifully to her evening endeavors, which include creating lovable characters and interesting storylines [when she’s not catering to her loving ‘Oooge’ - a.k.a. biker hubby]. An avid reader of erotic romance [upwards of two to three novels per week], Christa decided to give her own incessant fairytale sex-capade fantasies a voice.
When she is not behind the camera in her Photography Studio, Jill spends portions of her days mentally cataloging all the reasons why she shouldn’t become an indulgent drinker at the helm of her three young children during the absences of her Pilot husband [though you will hear her undying love and devotion for them often: “blessed”]. Passionately creative, Jill spent many years capturing life moments on film, canvas and even paper. Having dabbled in the writing of many children’s books, all of which ended up covered in dust and never carried through, clarity hit once she collaborated with her sister: “Ohhh, the steamy sex was the missing ingredient.”
