“I have to have you. Right now,” I plead almost breathlessly, letting him hear my eagerness. Between everything we’ve gone through, and fighting to get him back, I can’t wait another minute.
He takes me by surprise and grabs me under the ass to lift me up. My legs wrap around his waist, and I’m greeted by his firmness. He pushes into me, not making me wait a minute longer. A moan escapes me as the force of him pulsates through me. It’s intense, fierce, and sensual—it’s fucking perfect.
I rub my hands over his biceps, tracing my fingers over his tattoos. The way his body looks covered in sweat and tattoos is almost enough to push me over the edge. I flick my fingers between his nipple ring, wanting to suckle it between my lips.
He digs deeper inside, making me slam harder against the wall. He takes his hand in mine and raises it against my head, making him support me entirely. He does the same to my other hand, making me completely vulnerable in his arms. He presses his mouth to the nape of my neck, electrifying all my senses as the sensation sends shivers down my body.
“I thought I lost you,” I whisper, desperately needing to know we aren’t over this time.
“I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight again.” His voice is breathy, looking his eyes on mine. We share a moment of passion, not wanting this moment to ever end. It’s beautiful and amazing. Just like Eric.
He slams into me harder, leaving me almost breathless. He puts me into a raging frenzy as I scream out his name. He nuzzles his nose into my chest as he releases himself into me.
The way Eric has the ability to complete me and make me feel whole for the first time in my life is uncanny. I never believed in those corny love stories—happily ever after and all that crap. I was wrong. Oh, god, was I wrong.
We finally make our way to the bed and collapse in each other’s arms. It feels amazing to have his body engulfed in mine.
“Why are you always saving me?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“How can you not realize…” He pauses to place a kiss on my forehead. “You’ve been the one savin’ me all along.” We lock eyes, and I can see the intensity in his face. I cup his face and slowly lean in for a kiss.
“Will you sing for me again?” he asks as we continue laying naked side-by-side.
“I’ll do anything for you,” I reply softly. It was the truth. He has my heart, my soul, my everything—I would give him my kidney, if he needed it. Hell, I’d give him both kidneys.
“I’d like to hear your voice again.” He brushes my cheeks with the pads of his thumb, coaxing me. I smile as I take in the moment we finally have together. “Can I hear it now?”
“Now?” I ask surprisingly.
“Yeah, why not?” He leans up on his elbow, showing me he’s serious.
“Okay, sure. What do you want me to sing?”
“Can you sing me another one you wrote?” Damn, I was afraid he would ask that.
“Sure…let me think.” I channel my brain to remember a few other songs I’ve written.
It feels just like yesterday…
since I’ve seen you.
I still remember your face…your smile…
and the color of your eyes.
You’re unforgettable.
I can’t forget you…don’t want to lose you.
It feels just like yesterday…
Since I’ve seen you.
And now here you are.
You haven’t changed.
You still have that sparkle in your eyes…
And those moist perfect lips.
Here you are…
Right in front of me.
You haven’t changed…
You haven’t changed.
Why did you leave…
I thought we had it all.
The way you loved me,
Wasn’t anything I’ve felt before.
And now I can’t forget you…
Although I need to.
It feels just like yesterday…
Since I’ve seen you.
You haven’t changed…
But I have.
I have.
“That was absolutely beautiful, Velaney.”
“I wrote it when I was sixteen after my favorite book,” I reply, feeling a bit shy. I’ve never shared any of my lyrics with anyone before, so this is a big step for me—but it’s one I’m willing to take with Eric.
“Sixteen? Wow. I could literally feel the emotion through your lyrics.”
“Thanks…I had a lot of time on my hands. When Carissa and I weren’t hanging out, I drowned my head in books.”
“I didn’t know you liked to read,” he says, amusement in his voice.
“I guess there’s a lot about each other we still don’t know.”
“That’s true.” He smiles as if he came up with an idea. “Let’s go see my mother. I want you to meet her. She’ll absolutely adore you, and you’ll get to see where I grew up.”
“Really? You want me to go?”
“Are you kiddin’? I want you to know every part of me, Vel. And I want to know every part of you.”
As if his southern charm, tatted chest, and nipple ring weren’t enough to make my insides melt, he tells me he wants to take me to meet his mother and see his hometown. Might not sound like a big deal to other girls, but for me, this was huge. I never let anyone in before, which means I’ve never allowed them to get close, or even talk about meeting their families. Growing up with Carissa—she was my family.
“I can’t wait,” I say, not even trying to hide the stupid grin on my face. I may not be sure of many things in my life, and I may have a lot to overcome yet, but Eric was one thing I was absolutely positive about. He’s been saving me since the day we met.
* * *
“How does this look?” I ask for the third time as I change my outfit once again. Ugh, why am I so nervous?
“You look beautiful…just like the last three times you asked.” He playfully roles his eyes at me. I look in the mirror once again, contemplating on my outfit choice.
I huff back at him, finally deciding to keep the dress I have on. Meeting his mother is a huge deal for me. I want it to be perfect. Carissa informs me that southern men are close to their mama’s and that they have a close-knit relationship.
“Lane, southern boys are mama’s boys. They eat fried chicken and take their mama’s advice. Whatever you do, charm the shit out of his mother.”
“Fried chicken?” I ask, doubting her source.
“Yes, trust me.” I sigh, giving into her.
“Okay…so charm mom, check. Anything else, old wise one?”
“Yes, as a matter-of-fact. Boots. Wear cowboy boots.”
“What? She’s going to think I’m mocking them or something.”
“No way. Plus, I bet you look fucking hot in cowboy boots.”
I chuckle as I recall the phone conversation Carissa and I had last night. I miss her like crazy, but I love being here with Eric. He and his father finished their shifts in Santa Fe and now the three of us were flying to Dallas to go visit his family.
I look down at my navy blue summer dress and brown cowboy boots. I want to fit in with his family. I want them to become my family, too.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he asks, grabbing our luggage. He looks stunning in a blue button up plaid shirt and tight, holey jeans.
“Yes! I can’t wait. I hope…she likes me.” I wrap my arms around his waist, looking up in his eyes.
“Are you kiddin’? She’ll love you.” He kisses my forehead, making my whole body quiver. Looking around, I see how happy I am finally. Taking back control of my life was the best decision I ever made. Having Carissa and Eric by my side are the only reasons my life finally feels normal—complete.
We check our bags and grab our tickets. Mr. Reilley is a nice old man who won’t let me carry a thing. He’s sweet, charming, and likeable just like Eric. It’s easy to see the resemblance.
“You’re sweating,” I whisper into Eric’s ea
r as we sit in our seats, waiting for the plane to take off.
“Not a fan of planes, that’s all.” I grab his hand and squeeze it, letting him know that I’m here for him.
He leans in and kisses my lips softly. I love the taste and feel of his lips on mine. I don’t ever want to lose that. Lose him.
We brace for takeoff, and ease smoothly into the bright blue sky. Mr. Reilley is staring out the window, and Eric and I are playing a crossword puzzle. The flight is short, but I can’t hold it in any longer.
“I have to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” I whisper, breaking our hands apart.
“Want me to come with you? We could join the mile high club.” He winks, smirking at me.
“I don’t think that’d be appropriate…with your father being here and all,” I tease back, winking.
“Party pooper,” he snips back, letting go of my hand.
“I’ll make it up to you later,” I promise, standing up and walking down the aisle.
I snicker at him as I turn back and glance at his pouty face. It makes me chuckle, making me love and adore him even more.
We’re seated up front so I make the uncomfortable walk down the long aisle of people staring at me. There’s a variety of people on board—children, husbands, wives, grandparents, babies. I’m not sure why, but it’s comforting.
I squeeze into the tiny stall they call a bathroom and lock the door. When I’m done, I wash my hands and face as I try to keep it together. I’m not sure why meeting his mother scares me so much, but perhaps it’s because I want her to love me as much as Eric does. I’ve not had to worry about meeting someone’s family before, so I want to make a good first impression.
I give myself one more look over, and comb through my hair. I squeeze sideways out of the door and shut it behind me. I quietly make my way down the aisle before I see something peculiar…someone familiar.
Oh, holy hell.
I stand for a moment and stare, making my eyes adjust to make sure I see what I think I see. Someone excuses themself from behind me as I’m blocking the aisle.
“Oh, sorry.” I move to the side, letting them through. My feet almost feel frozen in place. Just as I’m about to continue walking to my seat, he turns around and stares at me.
Aiden.
I can barely catch my breath as we lock eyes. What the hell is he doing here? My mind starts thinking a million miles an hour…has he been in Santa Fe this whole time?
I panic as I begin to realize he’s after me. Or Eric. He’s after…revenge.
********************
Epilogue
Eric
I fall asleep on the couch like I do most nights. It’s less lonely that way. Spendin’ long hours with guys at the fire house gets old and borin’. It’s fun, but can be lonely considering most of the men have wives or girlfriends waiting for them back home.
Being raised in the southern state of Texas, I grew up with a very close and tightknit family. My mother made sure I learned my manners and that I developed a good work ethic. However, livin’ out in the country made for a lonely childhood. It wasn’t until I started trainin’ that girls began to flock my way. Most were shocked to hear that I was single and hadn’t much experience, but it didn’t take long for that loneliness feeling to dissipate.
An ear-piercing sound breaks me from my sleep and I realize it’s a smoke detector from upstairs. The walls are paper-thin, and I hear everythin’ the neighbor upstairs is doing. Sometimes it’s not much, just steps here and there, but sometimes I hear singin’. I’m not sure who the girls are who live above me, but one of them has the voice of an angel.
I jump from the couch and grab my O2 tank. I keep one in my apartment for safety reasons—which might actually come in handy now.
I realize I’m only in jeans and a ripped BFD shirt. It’s the one I wear when I’m workin’ out usually, but with no time to change, I head out and run up the stairs to the fifth floor. The noise gets louder, and I can tell I’m close.
“Oh, thank god!” a young woman barrels out of her apartment. “Fucking neighbor’s apartment is filling up with smoke. Stupid old broad.”
“Is everyone out of your apartment, ma’am?” I ask.
“Ma’am? God, please. And no, my roommate is still sleeping.” She stands with her hands on her hips as if she’s been completely inconvenienced. “I’ll go get her before the smoke ruins my hair.”
“No, allow me,” I insist.
“Um,” she puts her arm out, blocking me. “I’m not letting a stranger inside my apartment—even if you are hot.” I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or what, but I can already tell she’s full of herself.
“I’m a fireman, you can trust me,” I assure. Most girls can’t resist the southern accent, and I can tell she can’t either.
“Fine, but I swear to God, you touch her, I cut your nuts off.” She points a finger at me, oddly serious.
I nod and swing the O2 tank over my back. The girl begins to run down the hall, and I barge into the apartment. I’m not sure where I’m goin’ but the smoke is starting to fill the apartment, so I rush from room to room.
I open what I assume is a bedroom door and peek in. I see a woman lying peacefully on her bed. I step in, making sure not to startle her. I notice she’s wearing a very tiny—and lacy gown. Oh, fuck me, seriously?
I brush my fingers along her cheek sweepin’ her hair back. She’s simply stunnin’. She has chocolate brown hair and rosy cheeks. Her eyes flicker and she moans as she begins to roll over. I take my opportunity and graze my arm under her, carryin’ her against my chest.
She’s conscious, but I can tell the smoke is getting to her. I ask her name and she whispers “Velaney.” It’s the most beautiful name I’ve ever heard and if she wasn’t gaspin’ for air, I would have been tempted to kiss her.
I offer her the mask and head out of the apartment door. I don’t know why, but havin’ her in my arms is something I want to treasure. There’s somethin’ sweet and innocent about her. The fact that she’s wearing a lacy nighty is appealin’, but it’s the way she clings to me for protection that has me curious. It’s as if she’s never felt safe before. I’m intrigued, and the need to talk to her is unsettling, but I eventually make it to the lower level. Hesitantly, I put her down and watch her run to her rude and obnoxious friend.
* * *
I’ve never brought a woman home to meet my mother. No one’s ever been worthy enough or been serious enough to go that far. The truth is, I love my mother more than life itself. I would never want to introduce her to someone I wasn’t serious about. She gets attached easily, and it would break her heart to meet someone that I wasn’t planning to marry.
“I have to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” she whispers in my ear, breaking our hands apart. She has the sweetest most sincere smile. I love watchin’ her blush, even though she never notices she does.
“Want me to come with you? We could join the mile high club.” I tease, winking at her. I never knew being with someone who makes every part of me better, would feel this good. I can hardly keep my hands off her, but I know I have to control myself. She’s not fragile, but she deserves those intimate moments to be special—treasured.
I glance back at her as she walks down the aisle to the back. She’s perfect—in every single way—if that’s even possible, but she is—perfect for me that is. Her tiny hands fit perfectly in mine, my arms wrap ‘round her just right, and her head tucks into my chest just below my collarbone.
I know Velaney’s the one for me—I’ve known for a long time now, although we’ve been dealt with challenges. Her innocence…her past…the way she overcame her fears, are all reasons that I love her. Despite what she’s gone through and the way she deals with them just shows me how strong she truly is. She may think she’s weak, but she’s the complete opposite.
She’s strong. Stronger than she realizes.
********************
About the Author
&
nbsp; Brooke is a Midwestern gal, from the cheese state of Wisconsin! Go Packers! She is a stay-at-home mom of three beautiful children (one daughter & two stepsons) and in her rare spare time loves to write. She studied psychology in college, and counseling and education in graduate school where she fell in love with writing and learning about human behavior. Most days you can find her reading and/or writing, and just hanging out with her family. She loves movies, cooking, and shopping. She’s addicted to Starbucks & Coach purses.
Find Brooke:
www.facebook.com/brookecumberlandauthor
Twitter @blcumberland
www.brookecumberland.com
Books by Brooke
The Spark Series
Spark, #1
Burn, #2
Flame, #3 (Companion Novel)
The Riverside Trilogy
Kitchen Affairs, #1
Kitchen Scandals, #2
Kitchen Promises, #3
Coming Soon
The Intern, Vol. 1, May 2014
Bad Girlfriend, Summer 2014
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Beautiful Broken Rules
by Kimberly Lauren
What happens when you create rules to keep others out?
One thing Emerson Moore has come to terms with is that she is the school slut. She knows her way around a frat house and how to get what she wants. She doesn’t make any excuses for her actions and she doesn’t pretend to be anything different. She is who she is and with that she knows how to have a good time. She’s made rules to keep relationships at bay and avoid the demons of her past.
When her best friend, Cole has his two friends from back home move in with him she begins to think she has met her match with Jaxon Riley. Jax is the perfect mixture of tattooed muscle and a sweet-talking mouth. With “hand” written notes, a voice that exudes sex and knowing just how to get under her skin, Jaxon learns how to break all the rules. But will he just end up breaking her heart anyway?
Exposed: An Anthology Page 98
