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A Piece of Heaven_A Reverse Harem Contemporary Romance

Page 6

by Angel Lawson


  I did all of this, felt all of this until, bound tight in his unwavering arms, he rocked me to sleep.

  *

  I woke wrapped in warmth surrounded by the most fantastic smell. I didn’t want to wake up, not yet, a cloud lingered in the distance but here I was safe. I wanted to stay bundled in the cocoon.

  Eventually I realized the cocoon moved and was not a blanket but the warm heat of a body, a male body, and I blinked my sore, exhausted eyes and looked into the most handsome face.

  “Hey,” Oliver said, smiling down at me.

  “Hi.”

  Slowly the events of the night came back to me. The photo. My breakdown. The blade. Oliver—god, Oliver. How did he even know I needed help?

  “I’m,” I started, feeling awkward and embarrassed. “I’m sorry about before. That was, uh…”

  His hand stroked my cheek, blue eyes piercing into mine. “That was rough. Scary.”

  “Thank you for stepping in, I don’t know what would have happened. I just broke. I don’t know. The photo…shit, did you see it?”

  “Yeah, that’s why I came over. I was driving home and saw it. Turned my car around. You didn’t answer but I could hear the music blasting.” He tilted my face to his. “I’ve never been so absolutely fucking terrified before.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Do. Not. Apologize.” His voice was firm. “You’ve been through a lot, Heaven. So much. You’re brave, dealing with those bastards every day. The bravest person I know.”

  I wrapped my arms tight around him. “I just felt so alone.”

  “Always call me,” he said. “Me or any of the others. We’re just a phone call away, got it?”

  That was the strange thing. For the first time after a major panic attack, I felt different. Like a miracle had happened the night before. My chest was clear. The anxiety lifted. Oliver did it. Just by being here. By taking care of me.

  I nodded and burrowed my face into his chest. It was so broad and muscular, the type of thing you see on TV. Not in real life. Not in my bed.

  His hand ran down my arm, tracing the pattern of my scars. I wanted to hide them but he held me tight and kissed me behind the ear, whispering, “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

  “It’s embarrassing.” I said back, a shiver tickling my spine.

  “No.” He kissed my shoulder. My neck. “They’re a symbol of your strength, Heaven. You’re a survivor. You survived then and you’ll survive now.”

  My heart swelled and like him, I wanted to explore his body. I wanted to feel him. He watched me, allowed me the freedom to touch him all over. He laid still, allowing me to take my time and it was only when he grimaced, wrinkling his nose, that I realized the effect my hands on him had.

  “Oh,” I said, glancing at the small space between our hips. The distance shrunk as he grew. “Sorry.”

  “I told you,” he said, closing the gap between us. “Never apologize.”

  His lips were only a breath away, pink and inviting. I held his eyes and he cupped my face with his hand. I licked my lips and he unconsciously mimicked the move. He was going to kiss me. I knew he wanted to, but something held him back.

  “What?” I asked as his eyes searched mine.

  “I don’t want to take advantage. Not after everything you’ve gone through—not after tonight.”

  I laughed. The first time since yesterday and it felt good. So good. “You’re not taking advantage, Oliver. Just fucking kiss me.”

  It was all the invitation he needed, and when his lips met mine it was like a chorus of angels singing. He tasted like mint, his lips soft while his mouth claimed me hard. Electricity ran through my arms and legs, building in the most forbidden places. This wasn’t my first kiss but god, none had ever felt quite like this.

  This was what it felt like to kiss someone that cared for you.

  This was what it felt like to be with someone that gets you.

  This was what it felt like to have your needs met and to want to meet the needs of others.

  Late that night Oliver gave me the kiss that would give me back my will to live and the courage to handle the future. If one boy kissing me felt like this, what would happen if I kissed the others?

  Chapter 9

  We slept until dawn, the sun breaking through my bedroom window. Oliver and I were smushed on my too-small-for-two-people bed. Especially since he was twice my size. I woke with my face in the crook of his neck.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, trying to wake up.

  “There are worse ways to wake up.” He rubbed his face. “Damn I had some crazy dreams.”

  “Tell me about it. I dreamed I was being chased by all the guys at school. Justin and Eric were begging me for dates, but when I finally agreed, they just started kissing each other. Garrett lured me with roses and candy and then gave them to another girl. Jackson led me to Anderson’s house where I thought I was safe, which I was until they surrounded me with white tigers and forced me into a hanging cage where I had to dance for them. I even had on thigh-high, white, go-go boots.”

  Oliver’s eyebrows were knitted together in deep concentration.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Just imaging you in the thigh-highs, babe.”

  I pushed him playfully on the chest. “Don’t be a perv.”

  “Can’t help it.” He stood and stretched, revealing the pale sliver of skin just above his waistband. His ab game was strong, as well as the deep-cut V on each side, leading like an arrow. My mom would be home soon and as much as I hated it, he had to go.

  She definitely wouldn’t understand a boy, especially one that looked like Oliver, spending the night.

  He stood at the door, giving me one last kiss goodbye. “I’ll will say this though, you wear boots like that and you’ll drive Jackson and Anderson crazy.”

  *

  Jackson was only five minutes late. For that, I was grateful. I stood in front of the mirror, fussing with my outfit. I’d gotten the whole thing for eight dollars at the thrift store. With the help of the internet and the google words “Sexy casual party outfit,” upcycling clothes may be my superpower. My mother said nothing about my outfit when I came down the stairs, but I knew what she was thinking: When did my daughter start dressing like a tramp?

  My jeans were skin-tight, leaving little to the imagination, and lined with strategic rips and tears. I’d found a fantastic black V-neck tank top that I accentuated with a lacy, teal bra. It pushed my cleavage upward while flowing near my waist. My boobs looked pretty freaking fantastic, which was something I never thought I’d say, but since coming out of my shell, that was the first thing I realized. I have a good body. A rockin’ body. Sure, I was covered in scars, but Oliver taught me they weren’t something to be embarrassed about.

  I was tired of hiding.

  I didn’t have the go-go boots from my dream but my black booties went perfectly with the outfit.

  Unfortunately, my mother didn’t agree with my outfit choice.

  “You’re not seriously going in that, are you?”

  “What?” I said, finger-combing my hair. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Not a big deal? If you have one slip your nipples will fall out!”

  “Mom!” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not showing my nipples.”

  “Yet.”

  So here was the problem with my mom. For my mom. She wasn’t a bad parent…just not around. She was flighty and busy and the bad shit that went down between her and my dad exhausted her. And other than my dark moments I was a pretty good kid. I was easy to ignore. So her sudden interest didn’t mean that much to me.

  I had no interest in her approval.

  Jackson drove up, his car loud on the wet street. I ran to the door, hoping to catch him before he came inside.

  “Heaven Reeves, you let the boy come to the door,” my mother said, appearing next to me. I cringed as she peeked out the window. “Boys, that is. You let them come to you, not the other way around.”<
br />
  I felt my eyes widen. “Boys?”

  I pushed my mother out of the way and stole a look. Sure enough, Jackson was walking up to the front door and there was another person behind him. A person with messy hair and a determined sour disposition.

  I dropped the curtain. “Holy shit.”

  “Heaven! Language.” My mother was still standing there. Why was she still standing there?

  “Sorry, Mom. I just didn’t expect them both to come.”

  There was no time for me to prepare for this situation. The heavy tread of their shoes announced their arrival on the front porch. They were here, and apparently my date had turned into a double.

  “Mom, go, now.” I urged. She sighed, but reluctantly left anyway, giving us some space.

  They knocked. I answered. Jackson smiled. Anderson frowned. I tried to look anywhere but their eyes. It was awkward. The two boys hulked in the doorway, Anderson a step behind Jackson. Jackson was taller, although you couldn’t tell since Anderson had that crazy big hair and wide, broad shoulders. He was adorable. They were both adorable. Shit. I was staring and things were getting so, so uncomfortable.

  “I thought Anderson may want to ride with us?” Jackson said breaking up the horribleness. “You know, conserve energy and all that.”

  I doubted that. “Yeah, sounds great.”

  Jackson’s slate gray eyes took me in, starting with the boots, ending with my boobs. My cheeks burned from the obvious attention. “You look fantastic, Heaven.”

  “Thank you.” I took in his fitted jeans and untucked button-down. His gray shirt that matched his eyes. Anderson’s was white, which brought out the pure green in his eyes. They both looked so incredibly good, and a waft of their incredible scent struck me and my knees wobbled. “You look handsome too.” I peeked around Jackson, “You too, Anderson.”

  Anderson looked surprised at my compliment and Jackson elbowed him in the ribs, hissing in his direction. His green eyes snapped to mine and a small, lopsided grin appeared on his face. “Thanks.”

  All it took was one genuine smile and I was a goner.

  I grabbed my coat and walked to the car. Anderson drove, of course, the little control freak I suspected him to be. His driving made things weird. Are we going with the assumption that I’m still on a date with Jackson? Or that this was no longer a date of any kind? Should I sit in the back? What if Jackson offers me the front? If I could have bitch-slapped myself, I would’ve. My nerves were getting the best of me.

  Thank goodness for Jackson, cool as always, he made the decision for us. He opened the door and directed me to the back, next to him. Anderson rode solo in the front—probably exactly how he wanted it.

  Peter’s house wasn’t far (was anything in this podunk town?), but Jackson talked the whole way. To my relief he didn’t bring up the stuff that happened with Oliver and the way he found me the night before. Maybe he didn’t know. Did these boys keep secrets from one another?

  Do they even know we kissed?

  I tried to focus my attention anywhere but Anderson, but it was hard when I kept meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror. I was still hurt and pissed about the whore comment from before and it seemed pretty clear he wasn’t offering an apology. For all the negative energy coming from the front of the car, Jackson did his best to make things easy. Our knees were forced into contact by the tight fit in the back of the car, and more than once he covered my hand with his own. It was warm and weird and nice, and I had no idea what I was doing.

  The party was in full swing by the time we arrived. A tinge of anxiety filled my chest and I stuck to Jackson’s side. We were in unfamiliar territory. The only parties I went to were down at the beach with Justin and the boys. They usually had bonfires and beer. I imagined this wouldn’t be much different. Except it was with people I hated and maybe one that was stalking me. Was my stalker here?

  “Look,” Jackson said, pulling me aside. “You look fucking amazing in that outfit. Like so, so hot. The flies? They’re going to be on you like honey. Don’t stray from one of us, got it?”

  I nodded, loving his protective side.

  “Wait here,” Jackson said once we entered the crowded, noisy house. He left me and Anderson as he disappeared into the crowd. My anxiety creeped. There was only one person that could offer support but Anderson looked as uncomfortable as I felt. Not just uncomfortable, that uneasy, hostile expression he wore so often shadowed his pretty face.

  “You guys do this often?” I asked, trying to break the freeze. “Come to parties?”

  I wasn’t sure he was going to reply but he crammed his hands in his pockets and leaned back on his heels and said, “Jackson and Oliver like to come. Hayden will chill—if he’s in the mood. They usually drag me along.” He raised his eyebrows. “It’s good to have a designated driver, right?”

  Jackson pushed through the crowd and returned with three cups, and a tower of tiny paper cups.

  “Here,” Jackson said, handing me a full red cup of beer. “I snagged these, too.” Placing several cups of what I now realized was a Jell-O shot in my hand. Oh, boy.

  “To new friends,” Jackson said cheesily, his slim fingers wrapped around the tiny cup, while his other snaked around my waist. “Super sexy, fantastic friends.”

  My cheeks burned and I slurped down my shot.

  “Thought you didn’t drink?” I said to Anderson.

  “Yeah, sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do to get through the night, you know?” I watched Anderson take a long drink of beer and my eyes landed on the foam he quickly licked off the top of his lip. I think my own tongue copied his. The burning stare he gave me made me think he saw me do it.

  Damnshitfuck.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I know the feeling.” I gulped the second shot Jackson gave me and chugged the beer.

  *

  The thing about Jackson is that he is absolutely adorable. Dimples and a wide, easy smile made him impossible not to love. He charmed the room, but never left my side. No one said a word about me or the rumors flying around when I was with him, although there was no doubt every person in the room wondered how the heck I won the prize of sitting on his lap.

  Oh right. I was easy.

  “I’m going to get a drink,” I said, easing away from the heat of his body. “Anyone want one?”

  “I’m good,” Oliver said. He’d shown up about an hour after we arrived with Hayden in tow. The Allendale Four commandeered the game table. Anderson held up his almost full cup and shook his head.

  Jackson hopped out of his seat. “I’ll come.”

  We walked through the kitchen to the back deck. Jackson filled our cups and he leaned against the wooden railing and took a long swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath his perfect chin. I watched as he placed his cup on top of the rail and lit a cigarette. He watched me back.

  “What?” I asked with a smile. My tongue was loosened enough from the beer to talk to him without feeling so nervous. Even though it was cold outside, I felt warm.

  “You’re alright, Reeves.”

  “I don’t even know what that means?” I said, shaking my head.

  “It means I like you and I’m not sure why we weren’t friends before.”

  I choked on my drink. “Because you didn’t notice me. Or, or according to your pal Hayden, because everyone thinks I’m a frigid, untouchable bitch.” I eyed him warily. “Or because now that things have changed, you think you can get in my pants.”

  I don’t know what reaction I expected, but all Jackson had for me was a smile. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve noticed you for a long time.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, really. Pretty girls are usually on my radar and our school is in short supply.”

  The tips of my ears burned. He called me pretty. I was still sure he was trying to get in my pants, but I had to admit, his methods were pretty solid. “You don’t seem like the type to hold back from asking a girl out.”

  “True,” he said,
pressing the cigarette between his lips and inhaling. “But, I had my reasons.”

  “Care to share?”

  “Nope.” He shrugged. “But for the record, I never thought you were a bitch,” he smiled. “Well, not really. I kind of like bitchy girls.”

  “That’s what I told Anderson!”

  “Told him what?”

  “That you and I would make a good pair since you’re a dick and I’m a bitch.”

  His eyes were wide and he laughed. “You think I’m a dick.”

  Shit.

  “I didn’t say it.” Shit, shit. He tilted his head in question. “Your boyfriend called you a dick.”

  “Oh, I see,” he just shook his head and took a final, long drag.

  We stood there together with new understanding. We’re both attracted to one another. We both liked each other much more than expected.

  “Thanks for sticking up for me at school all week. Things were getting rough.”

  He grunts. “That place is a cesspool run on hormones, gossip, and pain. When Oliver told me what was going on…it made me so angry. Then I saw for myself how they were treating you and it make me sick.” He slid down the deck railing until we were only a hair apart. “I won’t deny that I’ve always been attracted to you, Heaven, so yeah, when you walked in with your new look I appreciated it. We all did. But that slut-shaming shit? Fuck no. Unacceptable.”

  I shivered, partially from the cold but also just being this close to him. Jackson was so handsome; his face had the chiseled features of a Norse god. His hand gripped my hip and he pulled me against his body, sharing his warmth.

  “Half of those kids will regretfully screw one another before the night is over. It’ll be one giant nightmare of sloppy hand-jobs, sticky blow-jobs, and drunken, one-and-done, unsatisfactory fucks.” His description makes me laugh because it’s so freaking true. I could see Mallory rubbing her butt all over Mark on the makeshift dance floor from the deck. “What we have, babe, is a whole different level. It’s not about sex. It’s about understanding one another. Sure, they’ll talk about the fact you walked in with two of the Allendale Four. They’ll make up lies about me and you out here right now, but we know the truth about our commitment to one another.”

 

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