December (The Oliver Brothers Book 1)

by Watson, Q. M.

  “Tell me something, December. If he were to ask you, would you say no?”

  I laugh humorlessly. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “That’s all I need to know,” he snaps, his words clipped. “Goodnight, December. Give the groom a kiss for me.”

  “Josh—”

  He disconnects.

  My mouth hangs open as I stare down at my phone. “What the fuck?”

  “Don’t say the F-word, Auntie December,” Bliss chides, laying a flowy white dress beside me on the bed. “It’s a bad word. Now put this on while I put my yellow dress on. I already have a basket full of rose petals. They’re fake roses, but they should work as good as real ones.”

  Pushing down my thoughts about Josh, I forge a smile and get dressed. Bliss adds more makeup to my face and white butterfly barrettes to my hair. Afterward, I stare at myself in the mirror. The Avatar-colored blue lipstick sticks out sorely, I have colorful glitter spread from temple to chin, and the butterfly clips are placed erratically all over my head like they’ve nested there for ages. I look a mess, but I love it.

  “Are you ready?” Bliss asks, gathering her wooden basket that’s overstuffed with fake purple, pink, red, and blue rose petals. “Danny’s waiting for us downstairs.”

  “Ready.” I shift to face her.

  She smiles so broadly it’s a wonder her cheeks don’t ache. “You’re so beautiful, Auntie December. You look like a princess.”

  “It has to be this gown.” I look down at myself and grip a handful of the tulle skirt. She has me in a white tulle and lace ball gown creation. This gown is the epitome of femininity and innocence. I look like I’m fresh off a Disney movie. I don’t know where my sister wore this to, if she ever wore it at all.

  Maybe Miles has a Cinderella fetish.

  Bliss begins to hum and toss flowers on the carpet. I fall in step behind her, the silky petals under my feet feeling more like hot coals. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I don’t want to send the wrong message to Danny. I don’t want to encourage him into a proposal of any kind. He’s been gone for four years, and we hardly know each other now. This is not what I want . . .

  I look up from the trail of multicolored rose petals into Danny’s warm eyes. They draw me to him like a siren to a sailor, a moth to a flame. Instantly, I’m mesmerized. Instantly, I’m captivated. Instantly, I hate all the reasons I love him.

  “Okay,” Bliss begins, pulling a long white ribbon from the pocket of her dress. “I will wrap your hands together while you guys say your vows.”

  Danny clasps my left hand in his, and I watch astonished as Bliss starts to wrap the ribbon around the spaces of our fingers and loops it around our wrists. Wrapping ribbons around our hands like this is an annual ceremony that my mom and Papa Pete take great pride in on the last night of December. Each year at the end of December, Papa Pete ties each of my sisters hand-to-hand to an Oliver brother.

  The Tying Ceremony represents luck, protection, and prosperity for each of the families. It’s sort of like a mini wedding. Everyone wears white. The girls wear flowy and elegant dresses. The guys wear crisp tuxedos. We rent the entire Huntersville Resort out, and Papa Pete performs it in front of the gleaming lake with white paper lanterns flickering in every direction.

  The ceremony is really beautiful, and I’ve loved it since I was a child. Before I met Danny, I was tied to Gray and January. They said they never minded, but I felt otherwise. I felt like I was intruding on something special between them. Everyone always had someone. July had Jarvis. May had Miles. January had Gray. It was me that was always left out until Danny showed that gloomy night in September.

  From ages fifteen to eighteen, I had him with me at every ceremony. I was tied to him. I was linked to him. I was given to him . . . until I wasn’t. He left me without a word, without a warning. He told Piper, though. And now he’s back and expects my life to stop, that I lay the world at his feet.

  Not going to happen.

  “December,” he says softly, holding my gaze.

  I stare at a savagely attractive man, a man dressed in an all-white suit from the finest materials, a determined man that knows how to work his best attributes in his favor.

  His dark hair stops at his ears; he needed a haircut three months ago. This man that stands before me has fire in his eyes. His irises blaze like scarlet embers.

  “I love you. I love you with all of my heart, all of my mind, all of my soul. From the hairs on my head to the tips of my toes, I love you, December. I’ve never loved another woman like the way I love you. You inspire me. You make me believe in magic again. I’m in awe of you. I only want you for the rest of my life.”

  Liar, I think, because his words are too much for me to conceive if he’s not lying. If Danny isn’t lying, he fucking loves me in a way that only hurts me. And that’s more painful, more torturous, than believing he is lying.

  I smile up at him. “Danny Oliver, you drive me crazy. You drive me up the wall. You make me mad. But I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you. I’ve loved you since I was fourteen. But somewhere along the line, I saw who you were and my heart turned cold. Nonetheless, I will accept this marriage in the eyes of our niece.”

  They both stare at me with matching confused expressions. “No, no, no,” Bliss refuses. “Your vows have to be sweet like Uncle Danny’s. You have to be nice to him on your wedding day.”

  “All right, all right,” I say, giving in. I look him in the eyes and take a deep breath. I’m about to dig deep and get uncomfortably real. “Danny, I love you, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I stare at you right now and I couldn’t be more grateful, more honored, to have experienced being loved by you. You make me feel safe, cherished, and loved.”

  “That’s better, wife.” He gives me a lazy smile that makes my knees weak. “I knew deep down in that guarded heart of yours you loved me.”

  Bliss nods in agreement. “Okay. By the power of princes and princesses everywhere, you may kiss December.”

  He grins like he’s been waiting for this part. My heart flutters, and my stomach dips. He lifts our tied hands and kisses my knuckles first, his dark brown eyes shimmering with something ravenous and wicked yet gentle and kind. Then he moves close and tilts his head. I’m bathed in his pleasant warmth, and I get butterflies in my belly.

  I shut my eyes, trying to slow my breathing.

  This is when he kisses me.

  He suddenly seals his mouth over mine, enveloping my lips with his. I’m shocked at how soft and firm his lips are and at how incredibly good and full they feel against my own. We keep the kiss PG with no tongue action because our six-year-old niece is watching us closely with interest and curiosity. That doesn’t deter Danny from putting an arm around my waist and holding me close to him. We have our lips pressed together long enough for me to open my eyes and laugh against his mouth.

  He smiles against my lips, looking into my eyes. “I get to have you for the rest of my life, little lady. No more running away or denying me what’s rightfully mine.”

  “Good luck,” I whisper into his ear.

  Bliss shakes her digital camera at us. “Picture time!”

  Two hours later, Bliss falls asleep across Danny’s chest. She was on her third round of Frozen. I’m proud to say I know all the words to all the songs in this animated movie. Danny gingerly lifts her off him, tucking her in bed. He bends down to kiss her forehead.

  I brush her hair back from her angelic face, kissing her cheek.

  “We need to talk,” Danny whispers to me.

  I follow Danny after I turn off Bliss’s TV and lamp. He leads me to his room within this impressive mansion. Danny’s room consists of four plain white walls and a king-sized bed and a TV. He hasn’t been here much to design it. It’s not like he would, anyway. Unlike Miles, Danny doesn’t care much for glitz and glamour. Danny’s a soldier through and through. He’s neat and organized.

  He partly closes his door, and then Danny eyes me for a soli
d moment. His gaze shifts down to my neck and lingers. He reaches up and touches my neck.

  “How’d you get that bruise?”

  “What bruise?”

  He clenches his jaw and takes my hand, guiding me to the oval full-length mirror. His fingers lightly trace the fading yellowish-brownish marks on my neck.

  I have to actually think about it. I bruise easily. Too easily. By the time I see them, I’ve usually forgotten how I got them.

  “Jarvis and I were fooling around,” I say more to myself.

  His head jerks back, his brows furrowed. “Why did Jarvis have his hands around your neck?”

  “We were only playing,” I whisper. “It’s nothing.”

  Our eyes meet in the mirror, and a dark emotion flares within the depths of his eyes. It’s a fierce emotion that knows no bounds. It causes the hairs on the back of my neck to stand.

  I shudder inwardly.

  “That’s bullshit. It is something when he leaves marks on your skin. I’m going to talk to him about this. I’ve told him about putting his hands on women. He doesn’t listen. It’s time I try another tactic. Jarvis will learn.”

  “It’s cool, Danny.” My tone is indifferent. I face him and grab his arms, loving the steel-hard strength beneath his soft golden-brown skin. “Please listen to me. It’s nothing. If you talk to him about it, he’ll think I’m trying to wage war between you two when I’m not. If it makes any difference, his face looks far worse.”

  The muscle in his cheek jumps. One of his hands slides up the side of my neck and sinks into my hair. His fingers dig in deep, and he grabs a fistful. A tingle of pain and something forbidden spikes through my scalp. Danny urges me close, pressing my forehead into the curve of his neck.

  My hands fist in the sides of his suit jacket to keep me upright and steady when his warm lips skim across the curve of my ear.

  “Jarvis hurt you. It means something to me. It means everything to me. You mean everything to me.”

  “I kissed him,” I blurt out over the sound of my pounding heart.

  He stills completely, nothing but the sound of his breath coming out of his nose. “Whom did you kiss?”

  “Josh,” I confess, my breath coming out in rapid spurts. “I kissed him. We went to the movies, and I kissed him. I liked kissing Josh. I might do it again.”

  His hand in my hair tightens. I would groan in pain if the pulsing ache in my scalp didn’t feel so good. “Why are you doing this?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask too innocently.

  “Is this a game to you? Do you plan to get revenge for what I did to you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You do, December,” he says irritably in my ear. “When do you plan to stop? When will you get enough? Do want to hurt me like I’ve hurt you?”

  I laugh callously into the skin of his throat. My fingers burrow firmly into his sides, hard enough for him to tense.

  “Poor Danny. He comes home to find his sweet December has changed. He finds that she isn’t so sweet anymore. She’s changed for the better, sweetie.” My tone is condescending and spiteful. I kiss his throat and lift my head back to look into his heated eyes. I flash him a harsh smile, malevolence brewing deep within me. “But I would never hurt you, Danny. Not ever.” My voice is honeyed and dripping with sugar. My sweet tone doesn’t match my cold expression. He said those exact words to me when I was younger. He pledged those exact words to me right before he slept with Piper.

  Yes! Bitchy-bitch cheers.

  The little girl inside of me sobs and tells me I’ve killed Danny.

  He shrugs out of my arms so fast I have to balance myself to keep from falling. He stares at me like he’s seeing me for the very first time since he’s been home. He holds my gaze and swallows with effort, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

  “I can see that I’ve hurt you. There are things I can’t undo. There are things I wish I could change. But more than anything, I wish I didn’t promise you things that didn’t come true. I wish your father had stayed so you could have had the love of a man that you needed. I wish my fuckups hadn’t made you into this bitter, hurtful, scornful woman you are today.”

  I turn my back to him, my eyes watering.

  He grabs my hand when I reach for the door, pulling me into his chest. I fight desperately when he wraps his arms around me. In the end, my feeble efforts are laughable. He hugs me close to him and whispers into my hair, “Calm down, December.”

  “Get off me,” I say through gritted teeth, pushing against a wall of muscle.

  “Not until you calm down.”

  “You know, I bet I’m the first bride in history to fuck two men on her wedding night.”

  He gradually moves back to look down at me, and I register immeasurable devastation in his eyes before his mask of impassiveness slides into place. He blinks twice, and my smile broadens.

  I clasp his tortured face in my hands, kissing the corner of his mouth. “What’s the matter, baby? I hurt you? Tell you what. You can still have a go, if you want.”

  Danny shakes me off again, taking a step back like he doesn’t want any part of me touching him. His eyes are dark and feral. He stares at me like I’m the sickness of his heart. I am the sickness of his heart, and he is poison to mine.

  He works his jaw, his hardened gaze running down the length of me dressed innocently in a white princess gown. The dress makes me appear pure, which I’m not anymore. He’s finally aware of what I am. I’m a nightmare, something you want to run from.

  “Come here, honey,” I whisper with a crook of my finger and an evil smile to match. “Let Momma make it better for you.” I know I’m in deep shit when I make witty remarks about his mother. He played the father card, and I’m bold enough to throw it right back in his face.

  Danny stares down at his boots and laughs grimly, and then he looks up and charges forward. My back hits the mattress much faster than I expected. I’m not prepared for his attack. I’m breathless and stunned as he hovers above me. His powerful body is amped and drawn so tightly his energy and fury is palpable. His eyes are dangerously dark and distant yet precisely focused on my face, watching everything.

  He swiftly wedges himself between my legs. Danny shoves the tulle of my skirt up to my hips while his other hand tears the thin material of my cotton panties off. The seams of the fabric harshly splitting apart are loud enough to be heard.

  My heartbeat is deafening. A shiver of terror races through me, but I urge him on with my direct gaze, shooting hot daggers at him until he flips me over on my belly. He turns me over as if he can’t stand the sight of my face, as if the very idea of me makes him sick and as if I’m not worthy enough to face him.

  I’m repulsive to him.

  I’m now face down, my cheek pressed into the mattress. My pulse skyrockets at the deafening sound of his zipper going down. The cool air hits my bare ass, and then I feel the scorching heat of him behind me. Danny is scorching steel. I never thought I would lose my virginity face down in a passionate hate-fuck.

  His length is hard and blunt between my thighs. He grips my wrists, unapologetically pinning my hands to the bed when I begin to stir and move. Nerves sit low in my belly. I don’t know if I have to weep or puke. I do want this. I’ve wanted this forever. I’m only anxious.

  My breath leaves me in a startled gasp when he surges forward, shredding through the resistance of my virginity in one quick thrust. The pain is dreadful and horrendous. The smoldering white-hot agony steals the oxygen straight from my lungs, leaving me utterly breathless.

  Sex is far worse than stomach cramps the first time around.

  It’s crippling.

  I quietly cry out in pain, my voice muffled by the thick duvet I bite down on in fear I might scream and throw him off me. Wet hot tears brim my lashes. The insufferable pain tears through me like I’m paper, burns me like the hottest fire, and cuts me like a freshly-sharpened blade.

  Danny instantly goes still, ceasing
all movement. His body is locked tight. He’s shaking. “You fucking lied to me.” His voice is wavering and hoarse. He releases my wrists and begins to slowly pull out as carefully as he can, but even that causes pain.

  “Don’t,” I whisper roughly, shifting my hips to take him back inside of me. I ache badly as he fills me once again. It’s an intense ache I feel everywhere but mostly in my chest. “I want you just like this.”

  “I can’t, December.” His voice is thick like he’s struggling with this concept. “How can you even ask this of me?”

  “It’s either rough like this or nothing at all.” It has to be like this—raw and brutal. I don’t want the romantic roses and candlelight spread that ultimately leads to him making sweet love to me. That would be a lie. The core of our relationship is raw and brutal. It isn’t candy and flowers. It isn’t a fantasy. Our relationship is real. Our relationship is intense.

  I want this side of Danny.

  I crave this side of Danny.

  The trembling in his body intensifies. “Fuck,” he shouts angrily through clenched teeth. He thrusts forward and presses his hips hard to my backside.

  My eyes widen and my lips part in strange wonder and terrible pain as he completely fills me. I refuse to let the tears fall. They sit in the corners of my eyes, unable to go anywhere.

  Danny stays like that for a long moment. The feel of him hard between my legs is so foreign and beautiful. His penis throbs heavily, pulsing inside of me. I can feel his heat. But more importantly, he can feel me. I squeeze him with my inner muscles, wanting him to move.

  “Don’t stop. I want it rough, Danny.”

  “Jesus, December,” he replies quietly.

  The pain begins to fade after a few powerful and long strokes. His hand knots in my hair, tugging to the point of pain. His teeth cruelly bite into the nape of my neck, and warmth begins to flutter and grow low in my stomach like a flame of pleasure spreading through my body.

  I groan as he presses forcefully into me over and over again. His breath is hot and rapid in my ear. The noises Danny makes are guttural, his throaty moans sliding over me like warm molasses. Danny’s sounds are erotic and feral and primal.