Past Imperfect
Copyright © 2014 Alison G. Bailey
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Robin Harper, Wicked By Design
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Photography by Abigail Marie, [non`pa*reil] Photography
www.nonpareilphotography.com/
Interior book design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats
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Edited by Linda Roberts
[email protected]
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
ISBN mobi: 978-0-9914744-0-0
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
To those who feel broken and alone. You are neither.
I can’t keep my leg from bopping up and down while I sit here and wait. Every part of my body that has a gland is sweating. I’ve never been this nervous in my entire life. Standing, I start to pace, alternating between checking my watch and the entrance. She’ll be here any minute. I have everything planned out to perfection tonight.
I’ve rented the private patio at our favorite restaurant in downtown Charleston, the Peninsula Grill. I had them remove all the tables except for the one we’ll be sitting at. The area is secluded and away from the noisy activity of the restaurant and street. Small white lights snake up and around each palmetto tree that surrounds the area. In the center, a table for two is dressed with white linen, crystal champagne flutes, and pristine silverware. In the middle of the table there’s a crystal vase with a dozen orange tiger lilies and some sort of purple flowers. Being a graduate of Clemson University, her favorite colors are orange and purple. Tiger lilies are her favorite flower. I just told the florist orange tiger lilies, purple, and make it look perfect.
Checking my watch for the five hundredth time in the past ten minutes, I steal another glance toward the entrance. I can feel my breathing speed up and my palms feel as if I have dunked them in water. If she doesn’t get here in the next few seconds, I’m going to be a hyperventilating-sweaty-impeccably dressed mess. Just as I let out a deep breath I hear her soft voice float through the air.
“Brad,” she says breathlessly with just a hint of surprise in her tone.
God, I love the way my name sounds coming out of her mouth. Her incredibly talented mouth that’s surrounded by her full pale pink lips. The bottom lip is slightly more plump than the upper one. When she’s concentrating hard on something, her teeth graze across that bottom lip as it’s sucked into her mouth. There is no better sight in this world than Mabry Darnell concentrating. Whenever she is thinking hard, I get hard. I can’t help it. It’s as if her mouth and my dick have this synchronicity. In fact, everything about us feels in sync.
From the moment she walked into my dad’s law firm, she grabbed my attention. We are both first-year lawyers, which means we are low on the food chain in the firm. Even though it’s my father’s law firm, dear Dad doesn’t believe in playing favorites, especially where I’m concerned. Mabry and I have spent a lot of late nights together preparing for cases. We flirted, got to know each other, and I asked her out. She kept refusing until she could no longer resist the charming masculinity that is Brad Johnson. We’ve kept things casual, but I knew from the second I laid eyes on her, my reaction was different. It was more than lust at first sight. I’ve fallen for this girl and need her in my life.
I’ve been with a lot of pretty girls, but Mabry is the first beautiful woman for me. When I say “beautiful”, I don’t just mean on the outside, although the outside is mouthwatering. Everything about her holds my attention. She stands about five feet six inches on shapely toned legs that lead up to her perfectly round ass, small waist, and one of the all-time best racks the good Lord has ever created. I’ve seen a lot of racks, so I consider myself an expert. Her shoulder-length chestnut brown hair frames a well-defined, but soft, square jawline, and when she smiles, smirks, or grins, her straight little nose crinkles up in the most adorable way, causing my heart to skip a beat every time. Her azure blue eyes pop against the backdrop of her creamy pale skin and are captivating. The outside is effortlessly beautiful and sexy, but what drew me in and has held me is what’s behind those eyes.
The times she’s dealing with a colleague or client those eyes match the tone of the meeting—warm and kind, or strong and serious. But it’s in the quiet times when she thinks no one is looking that those eyes hold the most truth. There is something intriguing and sad behind them during those unguarded moments.
“Hey Sweetness,” I say.
I walk over to her and pull her into my chest. I close my eyes as the smell of vanilla hits me. I pull back slightly and place a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth, letting the tip of my tongue skim across the crease quickly. I have to watch myself. Things with Mabry can go from zero to a hundred eighty in less than five seconds. Pulling back I stare into her beautiful eyes. I can’t believe I found her. She’s perfect for me. We have been “together” for three months and tonight is the night. I’m going to tell her how much I love her. I don’t know at what point during the night I’m going to say it, I just know I’m ready to say it. I’ve never said those words to anyone before, so I want everything to be special tonight.
We walk over to the table and I pull the chair out for her. “What’s all this for?” she asks.
“I just thought it would be nice to do something different, is all.” I sit down across from her, taking her hand and lacing our fingers together.
“This is a little more than just different. It’s not my birthday,” she says as her lips form into a straight line at the same time her head cocks to one side. Then her eyes widen and her mouth goes slack. “Oh god, it’s not your birthday, is it?”
“Sweetness, if it was my birthday eating dinner with you would be the last thing I’d be doing.”
Looking up at me through her long dark lashes, she asks in a sultry voice, “What would you be doing?”
I lean in close so that we are nose-to-nose. “I’d have you spread across my bed tasting you.” I hold her gaze for a moment before I look down and see the huge lump she’s swallowing slide down her slender neck.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I smirk.
“Say stuff like that to me in public. You know what it does to me,” she says shifting in her chair.
I lean back, happy with myself. I love to tease her and make her squirm. “Then you need to relax and enjoy. Don’t question it.” My voice now sounds slightly annoyed.
Mabry is very guarded. She’s less so with me now, but still questions every nice thing I do for her. I hate it
and at this point don’t understand why she’s still like that with me. She’s suspicious that ulterior motives are attached. It strikes a nerve with me because I’m not like that anymore. I’m upfront and honest with people. I’ve learned my lesson the hard way.
“Fine. I’m sorry. I appreciate all the trouble you went to. You know you don’t have to do this type of thing for me.”
“I want to do this type of thing for you.” We hold each other’s gaze for a few seconds before hearing her name from across the patio.
He’s tall, dark, and has douche bag written all over him. As he walks up to our table, Mabry gives me a tight smile and squeezes my hand before pulling hers away.
“Hey Ten,” she greets Sir Douche.
“Hey, I thought it was you sitting out here,” he says.
“I’m surprised you saw me out here especially with the restaurant being so crowded.”
“I’d always be able to spot you no matter how many people were in the room,” he replies, staring at her a little too long.
Who the hell is this guy?
I clear my throat, startling my date.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Ten this is Brad Johnson, a colleague.” I cringe slightly at the reference. “Brad, this is Ten McGuire,” Mabry introduces.
We shake hands. “Tin? Like Rin Tin Tin, the dog?” I ask.
He gives me a smug look, the motherfucker, and answers, “Short for Tennyson. It’s a family name.”
“Does your family hate you?”
Mabry gently kicks me under the table, causing my gaze to snap in her direction. “Brad!”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, Ten. Brad has a weird sense of humor.”
Is she actually apologizing for me?
“That’s okay. I get that a lot.” Sir Douche throws another smug look my way before focusing on Mabry. “You were amazing in court today.” Every muscle in my body tightens.
I notice a slight blush creep over Mabry’s cheeks. “Thank you, but I didn’t do anything, besides sit there.”
“The research you did for the case was extremely well done and detailed. Maybe we can get together sometime and discuss your future.”
Well, fuck me. Fuck you.
“Maybe,” she says, with a slightly nervous laugh, glancing over at me.
An awkward pause takes over as his eyes roam down, landing on her chest, before shooting up to meet her eyes. My fists and jaw clench tighter.
“I should let you two get back to your business. Brad, it was nice to meet you,” he says, never taking his eyes off of her. “Mabry, it’s always great to see you.”
He takes a step back and Mabry gives him a slight smile just before he exits.
Turning back to me she looks over with concern written across her face. “I’m sorry about that.” I don’t respond. I’m trying to get my temper under control so I don’t blow the entire place up. I feel her hand wrap around mine. “Are you okay?”
“That’s incredible.”
“What?” she asks.
“The way Sir Douche can kiss your ass so thoroughly while you’re sitting on it. What was that, Mabry?” I look over at her.
“A colleague coming over to say hi.”
“Is that all it is?” My voice is low as I stare into her eyes.
“To me it is. Are you jealous?” There’s surprise in her voice when she asks the question.
“Should I be?” My words sound colder than I mean them to.
“No. I’m not like that.”
I look deep into her eyes, making sure what she’s saying is true. It is. We’ve never discussed being exclusive, I just assume we are. Of course, we’ve never discussed what this is between us. I feel my pant leg rise as her foot travels up and down it. My dick starts to twitch and all thoughts of Sir Douche vanish.
I fumble with my keys, trying to unlock the door to my condo, as I pin Mabry against it. Our tongues take turns darting in and out of each other’s mouths while she’s undoing my belt. I finally get the door open and we stumble into the room, our lips never disconnecting. I close the door by shoving her up against it. My hips grind into her as my hands move to the back of her neck, my fingers tangling in her hair. Her hands move underneath my jacket and push it over my shoulders, tossing it to the side. She undoes my tie and quickly unbuttons my shirt, using the same movement as she did with my jacket. When her hand lightly grazes one of my nipples, a bolt of electricity runs through me and I almost come right then. Next, she works the button and zipper of my pants. Her hand moves inside and she grabs my dick releasing it from my boxers. I feel my knees buckle slightly.
I pull away in order to take a breath. Staring into her eyes I see desire mixed with the sadness that is always prevalent. I almost tell her I love her, but the words seem to stick in my throat. Grabbing the hem of her dress, I slide it up as my hands run over her smooth hips and torso. She lifts her arms allowing me to peel the dress off her completely and then it finds a spot on top of my shirt and jacket. My eyes roam down her body. She’s wearing a black lace push-up bra, a pair of black four-inch stilettos, and that’s it.
Fuck me, I love this girl.
I plunge my tongue back into its rightful place inside Mabry’s mouth. My hands glide over her ass as her fingers move up and down my dick. The only sounds in the room are the moans coming from us and the occasional thud as I push her against the door.
“Talk to me,” she whispers on my lips. Her tits push against my chest with each heavy breath she takes. Mabry likes dirty talk and it just so happens that I like to talk dirty. It’s a win-win.
I kiss along her jaw until I reach just below her ear. “I’m going to fuck you, baby. You want to know how?” I whisper in a raspy voice.
“Yes,” she moans.
“I’m going to take my tongue and lick down your body, only stopping to suck on your beautiful tits.” I bring my hand up and pinch one of her hard nipples through the lace, causing her back to arch. “I dream about your tits, Mabry,” I continue. “I’m going to lick all the way down to between your legs. Then I’m going to suck you hard just before I fuck you with my tongue.”
“Inside. Now!” she yells out.
I slip off my shoes as she slips her hand into my pocket to grab the condom. Holding the foil packet between her teeth, she slides down the door until she’s squatting in front of me, taking my pants and boxers with her. I place my palms flat on the doorframe to brace myself as I step out of my clothes. Looking down I see Mabry tear the packet, slip the condom out, and on to my dick, all the while looking up at me through her long dark lashes. She seems to enjoy doing this and who am I to deprive her of any joy.
She slowly sucks and licks her way up my abs and over my chest until she reaches my mouth. Our tongues make another once-around in each other’s mouths before my hands shift behind her thighs, lifting her while pressing her against the door at the same time. I can feel the heel of her stilettos pierce my skin as her legs wrap around my waist. The slight jolt of pain turns me on even more than I already am. Her hands find their way into my hair and she holds on tight. Two hard thrusts and I’m buried deep inside her. Everything speeds up and intensifies, our breathing, my thrusts, and her moans. She tightens around me in every way and we come together. We both shiver and cling to each other like our lives depend on it.
Still inside her, I carry her to my bedroom and lay her back on the bed. I place soft kisses across her lips, down her jaw, and to the top of her tits.
“How is it possible?” I mutter as I continue kissing everywhere my lips can reach.
“What are you talking about?” she asks as her fingers run through my hair playing with the chunky style.
Looking up at her I say, “How is it possible that it gets better every time? It was pretty awesome the first time.”
Tugging on my hair, she pulls me up so we are face-to-face. “I’m trying to up my game. I think you just like my choice of undergarments more and more.”
“You do have excellent taste in
that department. I like what’s under those garments too, and what comes out of your mouth, and what’s behind those eyes.”
Now is the time to tell Mabry how much I love her. I haven’t looked at, thought about, or wanted to be with another girl since we met.
Clearing my throat, I look deep into her eyes and say, “Mabry, the past few months with you have been fantastic. Spending time with you is my favorite part of the day. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing. All that matters is I can look up and see you by my side.”
“Brad…”
“Mabry, I’ve fallen in…”
“I need to get up,” she interrupts as she shoves on my chest.
“What? Is anything wrong?” I ask, pushing off and out of her.
Sitting up, she moves away from me and off the bed quickly. “I need to go to the bathroom,” she says as she walks across the room, never looking back at me.
I watch as the door closes. I get up and remove the condom, tossing it in the trash can. I grab a pair of pajama pants and slip them on. The door to the bathroom suddenly swings open and Mabry comes rushing out wrapped in a towel.
Scanning the room she asks, “Where are my clothes?”
“Excuse me?” I stand in shock with my hands resting on my hips.
“I need my clothes. I didn’t pay attention to where they ended up.”
“Why do you need your clothes?”
“Because, the authorities don’t look kindly on public nudity.” She gives me a slight smirk that disappears in a nanosecond.
“You’re leaving?” My shock wears off and I’m getting angry.
“I have an early day tomorrow. Besides, you know the rules. No overnighters,” she says as she walks out of the bedroom and down the hallway in search of her clothes.
“What the fuck just happened here?” I follow behind her.
“We had a delicious dinner, an amazing fuck, as usual, and now I have to go,” she throws over her shoulder.
I find her in the living room shimmying into her dress. I can feel my entire body tense up as I stand there with my arms crossed over my chest staring at her. “I want to tell you something.”
Past Imperfect Page 1
