Love at First Sight Series Boxed Set: (Books 1-5)

by Lynn Cooper

  “I’m ready alright. Did you know it is exactly thirty-four steps from the kitchen entrance to the living room?” she asks, grinning.

  “As a matter, of fact I did. When my grandmother visits, she counts her steps out loud. I can hear her voice in my head when I move from one place to another in this house.”

  “I think I prefer counting silently, but every blind person has to do what works best for them, right?”

  “Right,” I say, leading her to our destination.

  When Aviana plops down on the candy-apple red, microfiber sofa, she cutely crosses her legs Indian-style and gazes at me expectantly. I swear it’s as if those beautiful-but-sightless brown eyes can see clear to my soul.

  In a bubbly voice she says, “Let’s talk. I’m dying to know what makes my man tick.”

  My nerves are shot, and there is no stopping my annoying habit. I clear my throat, sit down next to her and say, “When I was twelve years old, I walked in on my mom and dad having sex.”

  “Holy crap!” she exclaims. “I bet that was super-awkward, to say the least.”

  I place my hand on Aviana’s bare knee, needing the physical connection for courage. She’s still wearing my T-shirt, and it has ridden high on her thighs. The way she’s sitting makes it easy for me to see the shadowy seduction of her cunt. The thought of touching her and tasting her there nearly makes me lose my train of thought. I regather my focus and continue. Getting this out isn’t easy. If I’m going to share this part of myself, I need to do it now.

  “What I saw didn’t embarrass me; it turned me on. My dad was an alpha all the way. To a boy who had freshly hit puberty hard, any sexual act was fascinating. I was mesmerized by what they were doing.”

  She lightly runs her fingers across my knuckles and says, “Did they know you were watching them?”

  “No. I was quiet as a mouse until things got scary.”

  “Scary how?”

  “My dad had his hand around my mom’s throat while he was thrusting into her. She seemed to like it. Based on his grunts, he did, too.”

  Aviana interrupts me. Her voice has gone soft and breathy. “I can see that. I think all women like the feeling of being possessed by a dominant male. Having a man’s hand around her throat would be a major turn-on.”

  “Did Landon have his hand around your throat when the two of you fucked?”

  Her eyes widen in obvious shock. She wasn’t expecting me to veer off topic like a jealous prick. I didn’t expect it either. But now that I’ve done it, I want to know the answer.

  “No. He didn’t.”

  “Then how do you know it’s a turn-on?”

  She shrugs. “I know because you showed me through your books. When I read the romantic sex scenes, my skin always gets tingly, and I tremble inside when the hero behaves in a dominant manner toward the heroine. My pussy gets wet whenever he puts his hand around her throat. Whenever he pushes her up against a wall and shoves his knee between her legs. Whenever he covers her body with his across a mattress and pins her hands above her head.”

  Fuck. My body is humming with barely-contained need. I’m never going to get this out if she keeps up the dirty talk. “Aviana, I’m truly happy you enjoyed reading those scenes. The problem is, I can’t duplicate them in real life. I can’t do those things to you no matter how much I want to or how much you want me to.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that kind of domination and lack of control can be deadly.”

  She frowns. “I don’t understand.”

  Knifing my fingers through my hair, I stand and begin restlessly, nervously pacing. “My dad killed my mom, Aviana. He choked her to death during sex.”

  “Oh, my God! How could something like that happen?”

  “It happened because he lost control. Because he was so focused on his own pleasure—on coming—he didn’t realize how hard he was squeezing her throat. Because she laid there and took it without making a sound.”

  I see realization dawning on her pretty face.

  “That’s why you got so mad when I didn’t speak up for myself with Landon, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. A woman shouldn’t stay quiet if a man is hurting her. And she damn well should scream her head off if what he’s doing is killing her.”

  Aviana shrugs sadly. “Maybe your mom wasn’t able to scream.”

  “Maybe not. But she could have kicked and clawed him. She could have made some kind of effort to stop him.”

  “Why do you think she didn’t defend herself?”

  I stop pacing and kneel in front of my soon-to-be wife. “I think she was putting his wants and needs before her own. I think she didn’t want to interrupt his pleasure. And, ultimately, I think she trusted him to stop before she stopped breathing.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  “No. He didn’t let go of her neck when I screamed at him either. He just kept on pounding into her. He didn’t even slow down after I started hitting him and trying to pull him off her.”

  Whispering, Aviana asks, “When did he stop?”

  I angrily swipe a tear from my face. “When he filled her with his cum. He cried out in ecstasy while I fell to my knees, crying out in agony,” I say, falling to my knees now in front of the sofa.

  Aviana leans forward. Soothingly, she weaves her fingers through my hair and says, “I’m so sorry, Gavin. I can’t imagine how traumatic it must have been for you.”

  I rest my cheek against her bare thigh and wrap my arms around her waist. “Traumatic and forever life-changing. After what I witnessed, I was no longer able to achieve sexual gratification. I continued to have erections, of course. Hell, during puberty, a boy can’t keep them down. They’re almost as involuntary as breathing, but l—”

  “Couldn’t have an orgasm,” she finishes for me.

  “That’s right. Whenever I got close to climaxing, my dick went limp.”

  She scratches her head as if trying to wrap her mind around what I’ve said. “Did not being able to come cause you a lot of pain? I once read about how men’s balls turn blue and hurt if they don’t ejaculate often enough.”

  “Thankfully, nature took care of the discomfort via wet dreams. Apparently, my subconscious didn’t get the message that my conscious mind was too fucked-up to shoot off. I managed to get enough relief during sleep to function.”

  “What about now as an adult? Do you still have those kinds of dreams?”

  “Rarely.”

  “So what do you do to ease your discomfort?”

  “I write. I channel my pent-up desires and sexual frustrations into creating characters who are able to fuck each other’s brains out. I live vicariously through them.”

  She takes a deep breath, and I know what she’s going to ask me next. Honestly, I dread having to answer her.

  “Does this mean you’re a virgin, Gavin?”

  “Yes.”

  She gasps. “You’ve never made love to a woman?”

  “Only between the pages of my romance novels.”

  She nods and smiles. This is not the reaction I was expecting.

  With the satisfied grin of the Cheshire cat, she says, “I get to be your first.”

  “I’d like that more than anything, but I can’t fuck you. It’s impossible.”

  “Nothing’s impossible with enough imagination. And I think you have an abundant supply of that.”

  I shake my head then remember she can’t see me. “I’m sorry, Aviana. I can take care of you and show you affection in a lot of different ways, but I can’t be a husband to you in the way you deserve.”

  “Are you reneging on our engagement, Mr. Winslow?”

  “No, but I figured I should give you the chance to. I’d understand if you no longer wanted to marry me.”

  “I definitely want to marry you. However, I’m not about to buy a car without taking it on a test drive first.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means we’re going to have sexual relations tonig
ht.”

  “I can’t, Aviana. Did you not hear anything I said?”

  “I heard you fine. I’m blind, not deaf.”

  “Listen, if I’m too terrified of losing control like my old man did, if I am so afraid of hurting you or worse killing you during intercourse, then how the hell do you propose I fuck you?”

  She sighs impatiently as if the answer should be as plain as the nose on my face. As if I should be able to see it as clearly as she—a blind person—can.

  “You’re not going to fuck me, Gavin. I’m going to fuck you.”

  “Come again?”

  “Didn’t we already have this conversation at All Booked Up? I’ll say it again: you haven’t made me come the first time. But don’t worry. I plan on giving you plenty of opportunities to make me scream the house down.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Aviana Leif

  BEFORE GAVIN LEAVES TO run errands, we make a list of things I need right away. He agrees that, with his help, I can order everything else online later.

  Handing me the portable phone, he begins to rattle off instructions. “I’ve programmed my cell into speed-dial button number two. Just push it if you need to talk to me while I’m out. If you have an emergency and need immediate assistance, you can push number three.”

  I furrow my brow. “Who’s on three?”

  “My grandmother.”

  “The one who lives across the pond?”

  “Yes.”

  “How can she help me? I mean, not to sound disrespectful, but wouldn’t that be a case of the blind leading the blind?”

  He laughs. “You’d be surprised how quickly she can clack her cane across that bridge. Before she lost her sight, she was a triage nurse. To this day, I wouldn’t want anyone else but her by my side in an emergency. The woman can still apply a crazy amount of pressure to a bleeding wound. She can still set a broken bone or splint a sprain in record-breaking time. Trust me. Give her a first-aid kit, and the woman can fix anything.”

  I give him a skeptical look and want to offer up several valid arguments, but the pride in his voice stops me. If he believes that strongly in her abilities, then I’ll try to keep an open mind. Of course, deep down inside, I am hoping like the devil I won’t be needing her particular skill set. In fact, I might stay right here on this sofa and not move an inch until Gavin gets back home. I wouldn’t want to risk a fall.

  “On the slim chance I might need her, what should I call your grandmother?”

  “Cecelia. I’m sorry I didn’t think to tell you her name sooner.”

  “No worries. She’s Grandmother to you. It would be odd for you to think about calling her anything else.”

  He kisses the top of my head and says, “Okay, then. I best be off. The quicker I leave, the quicker I can get back here to you.”

  “Be careful,” I say, feeling a little panicky about his impending absence.

  As if he senses my consternation, he says, “You’ll be fine, baby. I won’t be gone long. If you need anything or if you just want some company, give Grandmother Cecelia a call. She’ll be more than happy to come over.”

  I crinkle my nose and shake my head. “I don’t want to bother her. Besides, it’ll be good to have some quiet time alone to think.”

  “About what?” he asks, sounding concerned.

  “About how I’m going to take your virginity tonight.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “One of us will anyway,” I say, winking mischievously.

  He chuckles as I listen to him walk out the front door and lock it. I hear the hum of the Audi’s engine as Gavin drives away.

  In what seems like only a matter of minutes, I get super-sleepy. My state of exhaustion is likely a result of all those pancakes loaded down with sweet, maple syrup. I haven’t experienced a carbohydrate coma like this since last Thanksgiving when I ate too much turkey and dressing.

  Unable to keep my eyes open any longer, I stretch out on the sofa and drift off into a deep sleep. I’m dreaming about Gavin’s fingers passionately digging into my hips while I ride him cowgirl-style when I feel a hand other than his on my shoulder. Startled, I bolt upright and squeal, “Who’s there?”

  My voice comes out in a high-pitch tone, and I detest how scared I sound. Whoever it is doesn’t answer me. With sheer determination, I slow my breathing, calm my heartbeat and focus on my other senses. I need to engage and use them in place of my eyes. The intruder’s touch is heavy and oddly familiar. I’m positive it’s a male. Inhaling deeply, I instantly feel nauseated from the sharp, citrusy scent of his aftershave mixed with the pungent aroma of deodorant. Even if he never speaks, I know without doubt the man sitting beside me is my ex-bodyguard, Landon. But what in hells bells would he be doing here?

  Turning in the direction of his heavy breathing, I ask, “How did you find me and, more importantly, how did you get in?”

  He sniffs as if he is having one of his allergy attacks. “When your little boyfriend took you away from the mansion yesterday, I followed the two of you here. I guess he was too busy staring all googly-eyed at you to notice. I staked the place out overnight, waited for him to leave and picked the lock,” he says, sounding ridiculously proud of his illegal entry.

  I don’t like the negative energy he is putting off. The air around us is filled with the stench of ill-will. Now that he has spoken, I can smell alcohol on his breath.

  “Landon, you have no business in this house. You work for my father, not me. Maybe he can still use your services, but I no longer need them.”

  His hand slips down my shoulder, making me shudder. When I attempt to pull away, his fingers clamp down on my upper arm like a vise, sending shooting pains through my elbow and forearm to my wrist.

  The heat of anger radiating off his flesh makes me shiver even more than what he says. “As I recall, you needed them just fine inside the pool house when I was grinding my dick against your chubby pussy. Or did that conk on the back of the head make you lose your memory as well as your sight?”

  There’s only one reason he would know about the blow to the back of my skull. The cops were keeping that particular detail of my attack a secret while working leads on my case. Like a flash of lightning, I remember everything now. I was walking out of the bookstore with Shadows of Seduction clutched to my chest. The ink from Gavin’s signature was still fresh as I held the novel close to my heart. The smell of Landon’s aftershave floated to me on the breeze. I furrowed my brow, thinking I must not have snuck out of the mansion unnoticed after all. That was when, out of my periphery, I caught a glimpse of his profile along with the black tire iron he was wielding before my world went completely dark. It was him! Landon was the man who mugged me!

  I swallow hard, look directly at him and say, “Let me go. I know what you did to me.”

  As soon as the words are out of my mouth, his face starts to come into focus. It takes all of my willpower not to shout aloud my miracle—or, more likely, my brain no longer blocking my sight—but I don’t want Landon to know I can see him.

  I can’t believe things are happening in pretty much the exact way the ophthalmologist said it could. He told me hysterical blindness is usually short-lived and almost always caused by some sort of severe emotional trauma or stress. This prompts the subconscious mind to protect the conscious mind from the offending stressor.

  Apparently, my brain couldn’t accept the fact that a trusted member of my father’s staff—the man who was hired to protect me—was the one who had viciously attacked me. Now that my mind has freed the memory of the mugging, my vision has returned.

  Landon loosens his grip but doesn’t release me. “I never meant for you to go blind, Aviana. I only wanted to scare you. I thought if you were afraid to venture out alone, you wouldn’t sneak away anymore. Instead, you would want me to always go with you and keep you safe.”

  “That may be the sickest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  He gives my arm a threatening jerk and says, “No sicker th
an you having a crush on a dumbass romance writer who is way too old for you.”

  “You leave my man out of this.”

  “Leave me out of what?” Gavin asks, standing in the doorway with a furiously-feral look on his sexy face.

  Before I can answer, Landon stands and pulls a handgun from the back waistband of his jeans and points it at Gavin’s head. Neither man realizes I have my sight back, so the element of surprise is all mine.

  While he’s cocking his piece, Landon says, “I came to collect what belongs to me. Aviana and I are going away.”

  Gavin growls, “She isn’t a possession although I’m the one who possesses her heart, and she possesses mine.”

  “Yeah, well, I possessed her pussy, so I don’t give a flying shit what you say.”

  “You’re a crude, disrespectful little punk, and I’m going to punch your fucking lights out.”

  “Try it, and you’ll be dead before you take the first swing.”

  With both men fully and furiously engaged in a battle of wills, I know it’s time to make my move. As fast as a gazelle sprinting across the lowlands of Africa, I leap from the sofa, grab a heavy porcelain table lamp and slam it into the back of Landon’s head. Relief floods my veins as I watch the gun drop from his limp hand. I can’t help but smile when he crumples to the floor in the same manner I had crumpled to the concrete outside the bookstore. The irony of my former bodyguard’s well-deserved comeuppance is not lost on me.

  Gavin moves across the room with lightning speed. Grabbing my trembling shoulders, he says, “Your sense of distance and timing was amazing! Miraculous, really. I mean, even using your sense of hearing and touch, it should have been impossible for you to locate the lamp and use it as a weapon with such precision. Don’t get me wrong. I’m so happy you did. You saved my life, baby.”

  I reach out and place my hands on either side of his face. Raising up on my tiptoes, I lightly brush my lips across his before saying, “This short-sleeved, poplin dress shirt reveals your sexy, hairy forearms and the bulge of your biceps rather nicely. The rich color of the vertical stripes covering your broad chest really brings out the gorgeous emerald-green in your eyes. And these snug-fitting, khaki pants showcase your cock in a most tempting manner, Mr. Winslow.”