Storm Front (The Charistown Series) (Volume 2)

by Lisa N. Paul

  She leaned in to examine the fine details of the art. Ingrained in black fine-point lines around the queen were words but before she could begin to read them, Ryan’s voice pulled her out of her head and into the space they shared.

  “It’s 11:57, Ashley, look at me.” The commanding tone of his voice told her how important her complete attention was to him. She breathed in his unique scent when he leaned forward to clasp the necklace around her neck just before he took a small step back, looking so deeply into her eyes she could swear she felt him touching her with his glance.

  “Back then I loved you. You were a part of me that I didn’t think I could live without.” He pulled her palm to his chest and placed it over the top of the fresh ink, “Now, as you once said to me, I know I could live without you…but I never want to again. This tattoo is your Christmas gift. It’s our story—it’s you, and me, and it’s Leo. It’s Miami and Storm Front and Charistown and Danny’s. It’s each of us as individuals and the two of us as one. You own me, Ashley. You own me heart and soul. You’re not my princess, you’re the queen of my heart.”

  Before Ashley could formulate any sort of response, Ryan was lowering himself to one knee. As if by magic, a small black box appeared in his hand.

  “Holy Shit, Ryan…what? What are you doing?”

  “It’s after midnight, Princess. Happy birthday. I love you, Ashley Kynde and I will never ever stop loving you. Will you please do me the honor of finally becoming my wife?”

  His insides were trembling as he asked the question. Not because he feared her answer, he knew she’d accept, but because he’d been waiting for what felt like forever to ask this question and he could taste it on his tongue. It tasted sweet, like honey and chocolate. It tasted like bliss. The only thing that would taste better was the heavenly sound of her acceptance.

  “Oh my God, Ry…Yes. Yes! Yes, I will marry you, Ryan Baker!” Ashley cried, shaking as he placed the engagement ring on her left hand. The one-syllable word repeated over and over again through tears, both his and hers had her heart slamming into the wall of her ribs. As she laid the hand donning her new engagement ring against his chest, she knew his reaction to her answer was the same.

  Her legs began to give way but, as always, he was there to catch her before she fell. “I love you. I’ve always loved you,” she cried shaking as excitement filled her body.

  “I know, Ash, I know. And I’ve always loved you…we just took the scenic route to get here, Princess. And now that we have each other, I can guarantee I will never let you go again.”

  His first kiss was soft but filled with intent, filled with promise. He slid his hands down her torso to the hem of her dress and whipped it up and over her head before lifting her up and lying her down in the center of their bed.

  “Mmm, not playing around here are you?” Ashley asked with a breathy tone as she shimmied out of her leggings.

  “No, babe, I’m not.” The lacy red bra and panty set covering very little of Ashley’s body, had captured all of Ryan’s attention. “I’ve been dying to make love to my fiancée for almost two minutes now. How long are you gonna torture a man?”

  Staring at his woman dressed in nothing but scraps of red lace and his ring was the best Christmas present he could have ever wished for. His cock hardened in his slacks, begging to be released from its prison.

  “Is your chest sore?” She asked through a lust filled haze, as she pointed to the new ink that he had to have gotten either last night or earlier that day when she had spent long hours at the shelter, preparing for the influx of people.

  “No more than any other tattoo, baby.”

  “Then come here, because I need to feel you.” He joined her on their bed, lying back with one arm behind his head and the other flat on the comforter. Her fingertips felt amazing on his warm skin. Every time they touched it felt like a gift. He moaned when she placed her soft kisses and long licks across his chest. He couldn’t hold back the deep groan that vibrated deep in his chest when she tongued the hoop through his nipple and undid his belt at the same time.

  The sound of the zipper being lowered ever so slowly made him want to scream in anticipation, but instead, he slowly lifted his hips to assist her in shedding his pants.

  Just as she was about to lean in and take his hard length into her mouth she looked up at him. Her eyes were blazing, her soul was pure, and the best parts of her past were now entwined with her present. She was perfect. She was his future.

  She leaned forward and licked the weeping head of his thick cock. Slowly she took him into her mouth, taking the time to lick and suck until she could take him no further.

  He moaned when she hollowed her cheeks and he groaned when she took him to the back of her throat. His hands weaved through her hair encouraging her quicker pace. “Oh, Ash. Oh my…fuck…Ash…”

  As he continued to thrust into her mouth, she used her right hand to pump his shaft as his thighs quivered with his impending release.

  “Ashley,” he growled, “oh, fuck, baby, I’m gonna come.” She deep throated him again and then used shallow sucks and strokes until his entire world went silent. There was no sound, no sight, and no breath. When his lungs begged for air he realized he hadn’t been breathing. Panting, he opened his eyes to see a very beautiful, very happy, and very horny woman licking her lips and touching herself.

  “Whatcha you doing, Princess?” While the question came out lazy and sedate, she found herself on her back and under him before she had the chance to answer. “Because it looks to me like you got really worked up sucking me off, so now it’s my turn to return the favor.” He kissed her neck, her collarbone, and her chest and his strong hands cupped her breasts just as his face leaned in to inhale her cleavage. “Fuck, you always smell amazing, Ash.”

  Lost in his dark eyes, she felt her bra loosen from the back as a smirk pulled up one side of his mouth. His tongue drew circles around her tightened nipple, the sensations heightened by the small metal bar pierced through it. “Christ, Ash, your tits are incredible.” His dirty words turned her on almost as much as each sensual touch. “Your body is perfection, every single inch of it.” His hands skated over her breasts to her taut abdomen. “One day, when you have our babies, your body is gonna be even more perfect.”

  Snickering, Ashley covered his hands with her own. “My belly won’t look like this after having babies, Ry.”

  Shaking his head, “What I’m saying is, it won’t matter if you’re no longer cut with muscle or exactly how you are now, because you will always be perfect for me.” His thumbs hooked the sides of her panties and dragged them down her long legs. The ragged hitch of his breath was the sexiest sound she’d ever heard, but not nearly as delectable as the look in his eyes when he took in her naked form, lying in wait on the bed beneath him.

  “I want you Ryan, I need you inside me.” Her desire for this man knew no bounds and she had a feeling it never would. His mere presence turned her on, a fact made evident when his fingertips made their way down her torso to the juncture between her legs.

  “Baby, you’re already so wet, you’re dripping.” His fingers glistened with her arousal. “Mmm, you taste amazing.” He licked her juices off his fingers before inserting them back into her drenched pussy. The slight brush of his thumb over her pulsing clit had her mewling with need. Her body was already primed from blowing him, and she was euphoric from the proposal and his beautiful words. She was a firecracker ready to burst—all she needed was a spark, and good thing for her, Ryan Baker was the match.

  “Please, Ryan. Please.”

  “Please, what, Ash?” He taunted as his fingers pulsed in and out of her wet heat, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. “You want me to make you come, baby?” Without waiting for a response Ryan dipped his head down between her thighs and licked her slit with the flat of his tongue. Her loud moans were unconstrained and pleading as he plunged two fingers into her opening and gently pulled her clit between his teeth.

  “God,
Ash, your pussy is so fucking sweet.” Tremors traveled through her body, shaking her limbs and catching her breath. Her climax was so close, so damn close. She shamelessly rubbed her core against his face as she sought the ultimate release. As he licked at her clit he sunk his fingers into her once more, hitting just the right spot at just the perfect time.

  As her body shook and her insides quaked, Ryan slid his hard cock into her magnificent wet heat. “Oh, Ry. Yes, thank God, honey.” She purred in appreciation when his hand slipped between them and massaged the small bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. With a strangled moan, Ashley squeezed her ankles tighter around his back and came apart at the same time Ryan rode to his own incredible climax.

  And together they finally found their happiness.

  After the storm and into the light.

  “GOD, YOU LOOK like shit, man.”

  “Ryan, don’t be an ass.” Ashley pulled her bottom lip between her teeth trying to come up with a better adjective to describe the sight in front of her. “Kyle, you don’t look like shit, you look…” she paused, “you look better than the last time we saw you.”

  “Nice save there, Princess.” Ryan chuckled, roping his arm around her shoulders. It was New Year’s Eve day, Ashley and Ryan were visiting Kyle who had just arrived back to his apartment from his prolonged stay with Nixon in Philadelphia.

  “Knock, knock!” Janie announced as she and Max entered the apartment. “We come bearing food.”

  “Ugh, and cleaning supplies. It’s fucking disgusting in here,” Lyla said, pinching her nose and wafting her hand through the air.

  “Seriously, open the windows—and get rid of the dead body.”

  “People, give the poor man a break, he’s been gone for almost two months, so of course this place smells like shit.” Ashley kissed Kyle’s whiskered cheek. “It’s great to have you back.”

  “I hate to break it to you, babe,” Ryan grinned, “but this isn’t much worse than what the place smelled like before.”

  “Dude, fuck off.” Kyle lazily flipped Ryan the finger before letting his head drop to the back of the sofa.

  Ashley had visited Kyle a few times over the past month and a half, and each time she left him she’d hoped that the next visit would show more improvement. While his cuts and bones were mending, he still seemed so off, so sad and broken. Uncertain as to what it was that he needed, she’d tried to make herself useful without becoming overbearing. Kyle, like the rest of them, had his skeletons and sometimes they came out to play. He had always managed to shove them back in the closet but over the past year, she—along with everyone else—had noticed his decline. She wanted do what she could to help him get through his dark period, starting now.

  “So at the risk of getting tomatoes thrown at my head, or worse, Lyla mixing cocktails for me,” Ashley fake shuddered, “how about if we girls go about cleaning this shithole…oops, I mean apartment up and let the guys do some bonding?”

  “I’m all for that,” Janie agreed easily.

  “Sure, but I’m not going near the bathroom,” Lyla announced. Ryan shot Ashley an appreciative glance and the women dispersed, leaving the three men huddled together by the sofa.

  “Dude, seriously, how are you feeling?” Ryan twisted his hands together. His friend’s bruised face wasn’t the only thing that was raising red flags. Kyle, whose demeanor had changed over the past year—between the excessive boozing and rapid mood swings—had Ryan certain there was more than just an alcohol addiction to be dealt with.

  “Ky, at the risk of sounding like the women”—Max looked behind him to make sure none of them were within ear shot—“we’re your family, man. Talk to us. What the hell is going on with you?”

  Kyle grimaced as he tried to reposition his body on the sofa. Not an easy task, with a cast on his left leg and another on his right arm.

  He glanced out the window, and a faraway look settled over his face. “I’m not okay. I’m not ready to go there yet, but I know I’m not okay.” Ryan bit the inside of his mouth to avoid probing his friend for answers he was clearly not ready to give. Quietly Kyle continued to speak, “And then there’s her. She comes to me every night.”

  He scrubbed his left hand over his beard. “Every fucking night, man. She’s fucking radiant, with her flaming red hair and her whisky eyes. She whispers to me, begs me to hold on. She tells me that this world is better with me in it and it’s time to fight, and then she floats away like a fucking…Christ, I don’t know an angel? Maybe? It sounds insane, I know, but when I go to sleep, she’s there. I’ve seen her. I can smell her, she smells like gardenias. And I swear, she’s the only reason I didn’t die in that accident.”

  Ryan studied and watched in awe as a lone tear slowly trickled down his friend’s cheek. “Fuck,” Kyle griped, swiping the wetness away with his fist. “These meds are making my eyes water. How about if someone gets me a beer?”

  “Dude,” Max stared at Kyle with stern eyes, “you’re on pretty heavy drugs. I don’t think you should be drinking.”

  Kyle growled, “Max, if I needed a mother, I’d have asked for mine. Now get me a beer or shall I get up and get it myself?”

  Conceding, Max left and returned shortly after with the drink. “Here’s your beer, you stubborn fuck. Just know that you are going to crash again—I just hope you’re lucky to survive another brush with death, you arrogant asshole.” Max slammed the bottle down on the table, called for Janie, and hastily left Kyle’s apartment.

  Ryan watched in silence as Kyle took a few deep breaths and then opened the beer. Within a couple of gulps the bottle was empty. Max wasn’t wrong. Kyle was going down and whether or not he would get back up was anyone’s guess.

  Kyle Marx was suffocating in a hell created for him long ago. One he couldn’t seem to escape, and didn’t believe he should. A bent man, he looked for temporary reprieve any way he could get it. What Kyle had yet to realize was that merely surviving wasn’t good enough, and bending only gets you so far.

  Sometimes, the mold needs to shatter in order for change to take place…

  Sometimes you have to break, so you can breathe.

  Book 3 in the

  I REMEMBER WRITING the acknowledgement page(s) for Thursday Nights and feeling so blessed for both the people and the MIRACLE that took place in order for that book to have gotten written and published so …beautifully. Yes, it was difficult learning the process, that first time around, but in my ignorance to the way things worked, I was blinded to how hard it would be to not just repeat the process but to make it even better the second time around. I learned quickly, it was NO miracle at work the first time. It was AMAZING people helping me to learn the ropes and this second time…wow…even they rocked my world.

  Storm Front WOULD NOT be here in your hands if not for the people I’m about to mention. Each of them truly made the words appear on the pages, whether it is through inspiration, editing, support, understanding, love, and/or laughter. My gratitude is endless…so is this list…sorry ;)

  When Thursday Nights was first released I was a basket case. My words, my heart and soul were out—exposed for all the world to see and it was…well…scary as hell. The only thing that could have been scarier than people reading my story, was people NOT reading my story. But, thanks to Brandee Veltri – from Brandee’s Book Endings, Thursday Nights kicked off with a grand blog tour that landed my story on the pages of so many incredible blogs. Through those blogs, I found people who enjoyed my book and who I quickly got to know and adore on a much deeper lever. After almost a year, I can say a lot of the strangers I met through TN’s blog tour, are now much adored friends.

  It would be virtually impossible for me to name all of the blogs that have supported both Thursday Nights and me, as an author, over the past year. I can say, however, that I am and will be eternally grateful to every single one of you. You have shared my words, my sales, my teasers and my general silliness time and time again. I wouldn’t be here if not for you. There aren’t eno
ugh “Thank you’s” for all of the work you do. (Curtsy)

  Speaking of teasers… For those of you who follow me on Facebook, by this point you are probably very familiar with all of my Charistown teasers. They are sexy, sassy, sophisticated, and they take my breath away every single time I see them…Juliana Cabrera – you are a magical lady. I give you a mere sentence or two and you find the perfect picture…every single time!! I don’t know how you do it, but you do. I swear you wield a magic wand. I don’t want to steal it…I just want to marvel at your amazing work. Thank you for sharing it with me.

  In Storm Front, there was a scene…you know…THAT scene…the one you probably hated me for. While I didn’t enjoy writing it, I wanted to make certain all of the medical information was correct. So I sent out a call on Facebook and who came to my rescue? The extraordinary Rhonda Raymond Dennis! She patiently stayed on the phone with me and answered all of my questions while allowing me the opportunity to write down her answers. She was kind and sweet, I got off the phone with her that night feeling confident and secure that my sad and tragic scene was at least accurate. Thank you, Rhonda!!

  I know there is an ever-going question about whether or not Facebook friends are in fact REAL friends. Some people question how one can possibly be friends with people they never met before. In the past year, I have found some of the most wonderful people on Facebook. When you find people with common interests, desires, and/or needs as you, the friends grow the same as any other “real” friendships do. They were there when I needed to rant, laugh, play and cry and when I needed to do it in the comfort of my home behind the privacy of my screen. I can honestly say, that I don’t know what I would have done this year without some of my FB friends.

  My fellow Dummies – Where would I be without you? There are too many of you to name, but each of you is special to me in your own way. I have loved meeting you in person and I can’t wait to meet the rest of you in the up and coming months.