“Insatiable.”
“Only for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Spring flowed into summer and I fell deeper in love with Brielle. I never knew it was possible to just sit and talk with someone for hours, about nothing and yet about everything at the same time. I thought about my future a lot. There was no doubt I wanted her in it. I just didn't know if that was her plan.
I wanted to know everything about where she’d been for five years, but she said it was hard for her to talk about, and that she didn’t want to ruin my view of her. That she was no longer that person. I knew she was no longer that person, but I still wanted to know.
“Carter, trust me,” she whispered, her eyes glossy with tears. “You don’t need to know. I’m not as good as you think I am.”
I pulled her into my arms. “Ah, baby, see, that’s where you’re wrong, because I know you’re perfect for me.”
“Maybe I have you under my spell and you’re too silly to see through it.”
“Maybe. If it’s a spell, I don’t want it to break.” I kissed the top of her head.
“I heard back from a couple of labels we sent to. I’ve been blacklisted because I was dropped from my contract with Aurora and because of my past drug use. The label let it leak that I was a user,” she sighed softly.
“What? They can’t do that. That’s slander!”
“It’s not. It’s true. I was using. I’m not now, but the labels refused me. They said the music was great, but they couldn’t take the risk on me.” She pushed away from me and walked to the window of the apartment and looked out.
I sidled up behind her and wrapped my arms around her. She leaned back into my chest. “Of course the music is good. Screw those labels. They’re assholes.”
“I’m so angry. I worked so hard on that demo. Kirby worked his ass off. He’s a fantastic musician and he deserves to be recognized. Just because I had some blemishes on my record, it doesn’t mean I am still that person!”
“People change. Feelings change.” I was taken back to the living room the night of our eighth grade dance, when I’d said the same words to her mother. They’d had a different meaning for Lisa, but I still smiled. Lisa would’ve been proud of the woman her daughter had become.
“It’s hard to shrug off a persona I had for twenty plus years. It’s hard for people to trust someone that could never be trusted. I get that. But I’m not her anymore. I’m just not.” she turned in my arms and sobbed into my shoulder.
“I know that better than anyone. Screw the labels. We don’t need them. You don't need them to know you’re a great artist.”
“But I want people to hear my music. I want people to see how I’ve changed. I don’t floss my ass with snakes anymore and sing about having one night stands. I’ve grown up!” Brielle wept harder.
“Snake ass flossing? I hope he didn’t bite your cute ass.”
She sniffed and giggled. “You’ve been all over every inch of me. I’m pretty sure you would’ve seen puncture marks.”
“I don’t know, beautiful, maybe I should take another look…I seem to remember a little something…” I pulled her to bed and kissed her deeply.
“I still want to talk about these labels! Ohhhhh, Carter!” she cried as I peeled off her panties and got up close and personal with her clit.
“We will. Later. I’m still looking for that snake bite. Maybe I need to suck the venom out,” I teased, sucking on her clit instead.
“Yes, oh my god, right there!” she gripped my head as she came and I smiled against her thigh.
“Think you’ll live? Or do I need to do it again?” I looked up at her and she grinned slowly.
“I feel a little dizzy...maybe you should double check.”
“I’m on it…”
I would never get enough of her. Ever.
A few months later, we lay together in my bed at the garage. Things were great between us. Easy and simple. I loved that feeling. I wanted it to last forever. Something was on her mind, I could sense it but I didn’t try to push her. I was learning to just let her come to me when she was ready. It saved many arguments. Although the aftermath was pretty damn amazing, I hated the fights.
“Carter?”
“Yeah?”
“I have some news,” she blurted.
“Okay?” I asked calmly.
She sat up and covered her mouth with her hand. “Our song is in rotation on local stations.” she mumbled between her fingers. She was flushed and her eyes sparkled with excitement.
Sitting up beside her, I shook my head in confusion. “What?”
“I’ve been busy the last few weeks…I have been in talks with a label, and they heard what I recorded with Kirby…they sent our first single out to some local radio stations and we have a contract waiting for us to sign.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Her smile fell. “I didn’t want to fight with you over sending the song to a few more places. I know I got upset when a couple of places said no…but I’m strong enough to deal with some rejection. It’s not what I was known for before. My new stuff isn’t bubblegum pop. It’s deeper than that.”
I chose my next words carefully. I knew they mattered. “I'm happy for you. Singing is intrinsically woven into who you are. I’ll always support what makes your soul happy. Even if that means hearing on the radio a song you wrote about me when you hated me. The next songs will be love ballads though, I hope. Because when you’re happy…I’m happy.”
She burst into tears and threw her arms around my neck, pushing me back on the bed. “I love you. I love you. I love you. You won’t regret this, I promise. And yes, one of the songs I wrote on the demo is a ballad. Just for you. But you can’t hear it until I record my album and release it later this year. ”
Squeezing her tight, I kissed her lips gently. “I’m so proud of you.” Nothing else needed to be said. Our bodies would do the talking. The only thing I ever regretted about Brielle was being away from her for so long. It had been a long five years. We made love to each other slowly, gently, tenderly. I would never get tired of her in my arms, in my heart, or in my bed. Never in a million years. I’d waited what felt like a lifetime for this. I’d loved her since I was a kid, and now she was mine.
She straddled my lap and I entered her smoothly. Her hair cocooned around us and I kissed her again. Flipping her to her back, I took my time, wrenching soft cries of pleasure from her throat with each stroke.
“Marry me,” I stilled inside her and her mouth fell open.
“What?”
“I mean it. Marry me. I can’t live without you.” I propped myself up on my elbows and pushed her hair out of her face. “Say something.” I needed to hear her say yes. My stomach clenched and I felt like throwing up.
Her eyes were huge in her face and she swallowed a few times before speaking. “Yes. Yes! My God! Yes! I didn’t think you were ever going to ask me!”
I laughed. “Good things come to those who wait, you know.”
“I’ve been waiting forever for my happy ending,” she breathed. “Hey, that’s a great song lyric…”
“We’re not writing a song right now, babe. We’re making love. I’m making love to my fiancee.”
“I need a ring before you can call me your fiancee. I might want to write a song right now.” She giggled.
“You’re mine, Brielle Harper. You always have been.” I closed my eyes and lowered my mouth to hers. Rocking into her body, I took her over the edge and followed close behind. There was no more fear or worry. I was her home. She was my heart and forever was in the plans. She might want to run on occasion, but it would be with me. If the bird wanted to fly, she wasn’t tethered. I knew she’d come back and I was the bastard lucky enough to watch her soar. Now I just had to get her a ring and seal the deal. She was finally mine. The good guy won in the end.
Nothing in my life had turned out like I’d planned. It was better than I ever could’ve imagined.
&nb
sp; Epilogue
Later that night after she lay curled up in bed beside me, I pulled the notebook she’d been scribbling on from under her arm. As I read the words and doodles on the page, I couldn’t help but smile.
I’ve been waiting forever on a happy ending,
I’ve known it was him from the very beginning
Prince Charming, the good guy on his white steed
believing in all the beautiful things in me
I’m ugly and scarred and battered and bruised,
He saw through it all, he pulled part my ruse,
I love him more than my heart could say….
I’ll love him forever and a day
I always have, I always will.
Even after all this time, I need him still…
Putting the notebook back under her arm, I kissed her cheek and pulled her into my arms. I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together.
Stay tuned for Brielle’s point of view on their turbulent romance in Good Stepbrother, coming April 15th, 2015. It's available for pre-order now.
Good Stepbrother – Scarlett Jade
He had always loved me... He always would.
I had always used people. I used my good looks and body to my advantage to get myself higher up in the world and out of bad situations. I refused to love because I didn't receive love from the one man in my life that mattered most – my father. My mom tried, and so did my stepfather, Charlie, but it wasn't enough. By that point I was too far gone.
Then there was Carter – my stepbrother. He worshipped the ground I walked on and I hurt him mercilessly for years, then left him to clean up a mess that I made. Somehow, and I have no idea how, he was able to forgive me and help me when I needed him the most. He saw my humanity and my beauty even in my darkest moments. He loved me.
You heard our story from Carter's side. Now it's time my story was told. All of it. Every gritty, raw detail. Are you ready for me?
Feed an Author! Please leave a review.
Sign up for Scarlett's Newsletter
Join Scarlett's Street Team
If you liked this story by Scarlett Jade, you might like some of her other works:
Wild Rose Series
Saving Grace
Finding Christina
Raising Cain
Rhythm of the Heart Series
September Tango
November Foxtrot
February Waltz
Just a Little Taste Series
Love at First Bite
Once Bitten, Twice Shy
Book Club Series
Kiss a Frog
Roping Two Frogs
Entice a Frog (coming soon)
Pursue a Frog (coming soon)
The Mistletoe Bride
Before you go, check out Chapter One from Emma Nichols' story, The Good Girl, available now!
Chapter One
One of the best parts of the internship with Life on the Lake was the social side of it, the constant networking, the frequent opportunities to make connections with individuals who could further a career. Of course, since these same people could also very easily end my career before it even began, this was one of the worst parts of the job too. This habit the magazine had of a monthly gathering to celebrate each issue had already worn thin and it was only my third. This time, it was different. I could feel it. The air was electrically charged. What had begun just over a year ago as a local version of Cosmo, had grown significantly and was now turning into a franchise. Our home office in Lake Norman currently prepared to accommodate all this new growth. There had even been talk suggesting some of us interns from UNC Charlotte would be offered full-time paying positions after graduation.
For this reason alone I had pulled myself together, finished my projects, pasted a smile on my face, and dragged myself to the seven in the evening gathering at City Tavern. The editor constantly complimented me for my drive, determination, and abilities, so I already felt like an asset. Becoming a permanent staff member would be the cherry on top. Not having to job hunt in another month would be ideal. To work in what promised to be my dream job and get paid for it would mean I could tick one more item off my list. Just because I was twenty-two, there was no reason for me not to have my life planned, my future laid out neatly in my ultimate To Do List.
The clinking on the water glass from the head table in the banquet room interrupted my musing. “I know there have been some rumors floating around the office,” Jacqueline began with a knowing smile. The private dining room was instantly silent. She positively glowed. God knows she loved torturing all of us. “There are several new job openings for the magazine,” she purred. “It has always been our policy to try to hire and promote from within, first. We believe in loyalty.”
Shivers ran up and down my spine. This was it. She was going to make an announcement. I tried to remain calm, but her eyes met mine, and I could feel my face flush. Just the other day, Jacqueline had cornered me near the water cooler to ask my intentions. It was just as awkward as it sounded. Somehow, I managed to stutter about how I wanted to work for the magazine full-time, how I wanted a column. She had nodded and made a face suggesting she was considering it.
“We will need a couple more assistant editors. Graphic design has been overwhelmed lately, so we need at least one more person to help carry the workload. And…” she glanced about the room conspicuously, “we have a most coveted position opening up.”
There was a buzz as the others started to wonder what she was referring to. Luckily, Jacqueline didn’t make us wait for long. “We are going to be hiring someone to write a monthly advice column.”
My ears perked up. This was it. This was the position I wanted and had been working toward. The last four years of college and even the high school paper before had been in preparation for this moment. Without thinking, I tried to calmly rub my hands down my skirt, an act that both removed the wrinkles and dried my now sweating palms.
“Yes, we need a sex columnist.” She glanced around again. This time, she looked at Molina, another one of the interns. It made perfect sense. After all, Molina was sex incarnate with her long legs, Victoria’s Secret model figure, and exotic Latin American looks.
Still, my breath caught in my throat. Wait…this was my job. I was supposed to have a column. I was the better writer. My grammar was impeccable and my articles were flawless. Jacqueline had said so.
“All interested parties should apply and prepare to be scrutinized. These positions will be filled within the next thirty days. The jobs will begin on June 1st.” She smirked as she glanced about. “Let the games begin.” She ended her speech by taking a healthy swig of her wine and settling back into her seat to watch the ramifications of her speech.
For a moment, I was frozen in place. Then I watched as Molina casually made her way across the room until she was settling herself into the vacant chair on one side of Jacqueline. Suddenly, I was inspired to act, and before I knew what I was going to say, I found myself in the chair on the other side of Jacqueline.
“What is it, Willow?” she asked, sounding somewhat tired even though a moment before she had been involved in an animated conversation with my nemesis.
“I...just wanted to make sure you knew I was serious about the columnist position,” I grunted out of my overly dry mouth. Without thinking, I reached for a water glass on the table and took several giant gulps before I remembered it wasn’t mine. Dammit.
When I looked up to meet their eyes again, Molina had a hand in front of her face to hide her smile, but there was no denying the sparkle in her eye. I knew, because of my error, she thought she had won. It was time for me to go lick my wounds and fight another day. That’s when I stood, taking the water glass with me, and said as confidently as I could manage, “Obviously, I need a drink. Excuse me.”
Making a beeline for the bar, I never glanced back. It was hard to hold my head high, to keep my shoulders back, but luckily my mother had instilled in me the importance of doing so my w
hole life. Moments like this, hers was the voice I heard in my head. “Shoulders back, chest out, chin high, Willow. Remember, you are a Stone.”
Yes, I am a Stone. That’s my birthright. With the silver spoon comes an insane amount of responsibility I have been groomed for since I could walk with my shoulders back, chest out, and chin high, of course.
Since it was still early for a Friday night, there were few bar patrons. The bartender wasn’t even behind the bar, when I finally stood front and center before it. Leaning against the stool, I struggled to create a passable façade of calm. It was even more challenging to appear confident at the moment. Finally, he returned from the kitchen area with a tray full of clean glasses. He looked at me, smiled, and my face fell. Completely defeated, a frustrated sigh escaped my lips.
“Hey, we lived in the same dorm, didn’t we?” He beamed at me. I nodded miserably. Smiling still, he continued, “I remember you. Early riser, perpetually disapproving look.” He chuckled. “Still sour?”
While he spoke, I melted into the high stool.
“You look like you could use a drink,” he said seriously. “What can I get you?”
Sighing, I spoke without thinking, “Let’s start with a glass of merlot.”
He leaned toward me seductively. “And then what?”
Shrugging, I responded, “Then surprise me.”
“Huh,” he said flatly, “you never struck me as the kind of girl who liked surprises, or anything else for that matter.”
Sitting up stiffly, I asked, “And just what does that mean?” Before he could even respond, I was defending myself under my breath. “So, I didn’t attend any of the frat parties. Maybe I never had a series of one night stands like some people.” I glared at him meaningfully. “That doesn’t mean I’m not fun.”
His head flew back as he erupted in a full belly laugh. “Oh, actually, yes it does. You are not fun. Not even a little bit.” Shaking his head, he poured me a glass of wine and walked to the other end where a lone woman in a revealing top was resting her breasts on the wooden top and batting her eyelashes at him.
Evil Stepsister Page 16