American Heroes: The Complete American Heroes Collection (A Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Teagan Kade

  “Yes,” she says, crying. “You make me happy beyond words, Derek. You know that.”

  I smile, kiss her hand, and continue. “Then, I need to ask you: Elisabeth, in front of all of our family and friends, and sending a big ‘fuck you’ to the people who doubted us and wanted us dead, will you marry me?”

  She smiles and takes my head in her hands.

  “Yes, Derek,” she replies. “Yes, I will marry you.”

  The look in her eyes instantly makes me horny. I decide now is as good a time as any to celebrate our impending nuptials.

  Screw dinner. It can get cold while we get hot.

  I lift her dress over her head, exposing her bare nipples and her tiny thong underwear. I proffer an ice cube from the wine bucket and run it lightly over her perky nipples, watching them tighten as I do so and licking the dripping water off them.

  Her eyes are closed, her breaths are quickening.

  “I’m kind of hungry,” I say to her, slowly sliding her panties to the side to expose her bare pussy. “I would like this as an appetizer, ma’am.”

  She laughs then shifts her hips towards me, opening her legs slightly. I can see her arousal glistening on her clit. Before she can even catch her breath, I’m devouring her with a burning intensity.

  Her lips are pulsating and working magic on my tongue. I look up, my mouth still fully on her pussy, and watch her close her eyes and throw her head back in ecstasy.

  I know if I keep working these lips with my tongue, I can make her come in my mouth. I fucking love going down on her, feeling her pulse and shift against my tongue.

  I can’t think of anything sexier. So, with a sudden thrust of my tongue into her soaking hole, I unleash the proverbial floodgates. She moans, then screams, begging me to continue.

  “Oh my God, Derek!” she screams. I’m convinced that the whole neighborhood can hear us.

  Let them.

  My suspicions are confirmed when I look over and see my window wide open, my curtains pulled back.

  I smirk, stand up, and decide to give whoever’s watching a show of a lifetime.

  Unzipping my pants with one hand and fingering her slick pussy with the other, I bend her over the table and jam my cock as far into her tight wetness as it will go.

  She lets out a yelp of passion. I grab her by the hair and jerk her face up to mine, licking and kissing her neck in time with my thrusts.

  “Whose pussy is this?” I demand to know in between thrusts. “Tell me. Who’s fucking you right now?”

  “You, Derek, you,” she moans, barely able to form the words as I thrust deeper inside of her.

  Satisfied with her answer, I use one hand to massage her clit and to thumb the pink rosette of her ass. I feel my cock sliding below, thrusting harder now, determined to make her come harder than she’s ever come before.

  I flip her over, pull my cock and fingers away, spread her legs wide.

  Time for the showstopper.

  Carefully, I select an ice cube from the wine bucket and slide it into the hot void between her legs, my thumb working deeper into her ass.

  She comes immediately—over me, over the floor, gasping for air that suddenly seems in such short supply.

  When her screams and moans subside, she looks at me and says, “Well, I guess there’s no wearing white to the wedding.”

  She reaches down to my cock, giving it a light squeeze. “I’ll deal with you later.”

  And with that, we laugh, wipe each other off, and sit down to our naked dinner—the first, but not the last, as an engaged couple.

  EPILOGUE II

  ELISABETH

  The sun is setting around us, casting a golden hue across the hills and the ocean beyond them. Every few seconds we drive out of its reach, only to reemerge back in the ethereal glow.

  I hold my hand up in front of my face, wriggling my fingers and grinning like a fool as I watch the way the light plays on my new diamond ring. A thousand colors seem to reflect around it, like magic.

  Which is fitting, because today, everything seems like magic.

  I could never have imagined anything like this sweltering in that trailer, hope and possibility so thin and unreachable.

  Derek catches me in the act, a slow grin spreading across his face as he watches me appreciate the ring for what must be the thousandth time.

  “I’d think you’d be used to it by now,” he says, inclining his head towards my still upheld hand.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. It all still seems too good to be true.”

  He clasps my free hand with his own, squeezing tightly.

  “I know what you mean.”

  We lock eyes across the center console, his sage green gaze washing over me as if it were the first time.

  “Hey, eyes on the road, mister.”

  “I got it, I got it. You just keep staring at that ring of yours.”

  “You know I will.”

  I really don’t know how I’ll ever believe this is my life. It’s not just that it was all so fast—though admittedly it was—but also that it’s just all so perfect. I mean, before Derek I might not have considered a spontaneous elopement and honeymoon in Mexico exactly ideal, but fuck if it wasn’t.

  Days were spent coiled up in bed exploring every inch of each other. Nights were—well—honestly, pretty much the same. And now, we’re coming home newlyweds, the happy couple. It’s all so surreal.

  The sudden sound of radio rock startles me from my thoughts. I turn to find Derek fiddling with the knobs.

  “Babe, you’re gonna wake him!” I chastise, gesturing to the small bundle on my lap.

  Sure enough, it stirs, a tiny nose poking its way out from beneath the blanket, shimmering eyes and floppy ears following close behind.

  Derek has the good grace to look sorry before reaching over to give the little guy a scratch behind the ears.

  “Sorry, buddy, I forgot you were sleeping.”

  “Now, he’ll want to eat again,” I scold, but I can’t keep the smile from my face.

  Derek was like a giant child when he first set eyes on this little guy, the last remaining puppy in a cardboard box by the side of the road. ‘How could we leave him?’ he’d said. Apparently, we couldn’t.

  For someone who used to wear solitude like a badge of honor, he sure is a big old softy inside—a marshmallow man. Cock excepted, of course…

  “Don’t worry,” he says. “We’re almost there.”

  I look around, suddenly surprised by the progress we’ve made. The drive seemed a lot longer on the way there.

  “Wow, you’re right. What have we got, twenty minutes?”

  “Less.”

  I look around again, mentally judging our location.

  “No way, we’ve got twenty minutes minimum.”

  He looks at me from the corner of his eye, a mischievous smile now occupying half of his face.

  “What?” I ask.

  He just chuckles, completely ignoring my question.

  “Derek, what? What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. Who said anything was funny?”

  I sigh in frustration, throwing my hands up dramatically.

  “Fine, you just keep your little inside jokes.”

  “You know I will.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Oh, he just thinks he’s terribly funny,” I say, this time speaking to the puppy, “but we know better, don’t we? No, I agree, we should probably just humor him.”

  Derek rolls his eyes. “Oh, real nice, ganging up on me already.”

  I shoot him a coy smirk and turn my attention to scratching the puppy’s ears.

  “We really do need to give you a name already, don’t we?”

  “I already came up with a name!” Derek growls.

  “We are so not naming him Derek Junior!”

  “Why not? It’s a good name. You seem to like it well enough.”

  “Derek…”

  “What?”

  “Not happenin
g.”

  “Fine.” He fake pouts, but he’s already starting to laugh, his mirth spilling through the façade.

  “We’ll think of something,” I assure the puppy. “It’s going to be great.”

  He gives a little yip of agreement. I smile victoriously across at my husband.

  My husband.

  Yeah, I’m never getting used to that.

  We’re on the outskirts of the city now, beautiful homes beginning to pop up in place of open hills. I watch them as we pass, taking note of the large trees, tire swings, and sprawling lawns.

  I’m so distracted by them it takes me a moment to notice we’ve turned.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, coming back to the moment. “Home’s that way,” I point.

  “Is it?” Derek asks, something strange in the tone of his voice.

  “Um, yeah, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten where you live already. We haven’t been gone that long.”

  “I didn’t forget. I know exactly where I’m going.”

  Men and directions.

  “If you say so, dear.”

  We drive a few more minutes in silence, more houses springing up around us as we drive into the residential area.

  Now I’m certain Derek’s lost. There’s no way he’s getting home from here.

  “What are you—”

  My words die off as he makes a hard right into a driveway. A beautiful Victorian home stands before us—white paint, tire swing, the whole enchilada.

  “Where the hell are we?” I ask, looking around for clues.

  “Home.”

  “We’re not—”

  I take another look around, excitement already thrumming through my veins. My eyes catch on a For Sale sign in the yard. I notice the sticker scrawled across it.

  SOLD.

  “Oh my God, Derek.”

  “I told you I knew the way home. I don’t know why you always doubt me.”

  Whatever self-congratulating spiel he has lined up is effectively ruined by the squeal that jettisons from my mouth, making both man and dog widen their eyes in shock.

  “You’re serious? This is our home?”

  He chuckles. “Every square inch.”

  I propel myself towards him, barely remembering the puppy in time to make sure he doesn’t get squished in the intensity of my hug.

  “I can’t believe this!”

  “Believe it,” he says, pulling back to plant a kiss on my mouth. “Come on, let’s take a look inside.”

  I’m so excited I’m actually shaking as I get out of the car, puppy clenched to my chest.

  “We live here now!” I tell him as I nearly sprint for the door.

  Derek’s hot on my heels as I fly through the door to our new home, giggles of pure delight spilling from my mouth.

  I stop in the entryway, eyes raking over the polished floors, crown molding, and winding staircase. It’s almost too much, almost too perfect.

  Almost.

  “What are you waiting for?” Derek asks, coming to a stop at my side. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen him look happier. Though I suspect I could.

  “I want to tell you something.”

  “I know, I know. I love you too, Beth. Now come on, I want you to see the master bedroom!”

  I laugh. “No, that’s not it. I mean, yes, I love you, but there’s something else, too.”

  He looks at me curiously, eyebrow arching in question.

  “What is it?”

  “Well, I kind of have a surprise of my own.”

  He grins mischievously. “You do, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I say, setting the puppy at our feet. “I do.”

  “Well?”

  I reach for his hand, squeezing it gently as I guide it towards me, placing his palm against my stomach.

  He looks confused for an instant, eyebrows knitting together as he opens his mouth in question.

  I see the moment it clicks. His eyes widen in shock, and his mouth drops as he looks at me in pure astonishment.

  “Are you serious?”

  All I can do is nod.

  “Holy shit, Beth!”

  I’m lifted from the floor, crushed in his thrilled embrace. More giggles pour from me as he spins me wildly around, mutters of ‘Holy shit,’ still sounding at regular intervals.

  I’m actually dizzy by the time he returns me to my feet.

  “I’m gonna be a dad?”

  “Yes, you’re gonna be a dad. And… I was thinking. If it’s a boy, we should name him after your father.”

  Now I’ve never seen him happier.

  “Fuck, I can’t believe this. We’re going to be a family! You, me, the kid, and the dog. It’s like a movie.”

  “That’s what I keep thinking! How did we even get so lucky?”

  He turns his gaze upward, seeming deep in thought for a moment before answering.

  Then: “I have no fucking idea.”

  Our laughter echoes from the ceiling. Great bursts of joy so pure I can’t believe myself capable of making the sound.

  When we’re quiet, he pulls me back to him, gazing down at me, his eyes sparkling like I’ve never seen.

  “Thank you,” he says simply.

  “Well,” I glance pointedly toward my stomach, “I couldn’t have done it alone.”

  He laughs. “No, not just for that. Thank you for making me a better man, for making me the kind of man who can have this.” He gestures around us. “You, the house, a family. I wouldn’t be worthy of any of it without you.”

  There are no words.

  Tears of joy spring to my eyes as I pull him into a kiss, my touch saying what I seem currently incapable of voicing: how much I love him, how happy I am, how amazing our family is going to be.

  We stay that way for a long time, clinging to each other like our lives depend on it. Which of course, in some ways, they do.

  After a long beat, Derek reaches again for my hand, raising it to his lips to plant a small kiss before turning his attention towards the staircase.

  “Now,” he says, “which way was it to the bedroom?”

  HUSTLE

  Teagan Kade

  * * * * *

  Published by Teagan Kade

  Edited by Sennah Tate

  Copyright © 2017 by Teagan Kade

  CHAPTER ONE

  SHANNON

  “You’re an odd one, Shannon.” That’s what Grandma used to tell me when I’d arrive home as a kid with my latest animal acquisition, whether it was a common grasshopper, a red-winged blackbird, or a tarantula. Grandma owned five cats herself. She smelled like lavender. On my last disaster of a date almost a year ago, I was served up lavender ice cream at a fancy-pants restaurant in town. I almost puked up the first spoonful. It was like I was literally eating Grandma.

  So yeah, I am an odd one. Surrounded by my friends here at The Swinging Dick — how do you even get away with a bar name like that? — it becomes even clearer.

  My friend Jenny, a twenty-two-year-old corporate go-getter, places down a tray of cocktails, sliding one towards me. “I had the bartender make this one special for you, Shan. It’s called the ‘Popped Cherry,’ and Mr. Cutie Barman said he’d happily follow it up with Sex on the Beach… if you’re so inclined.”

  The others laugh.

  I take the glass and stare into its crimson depths. “Ha. Ha. Can we just get the whole ‘I can’t believe you’re twenty-three and still a virgin’ thing over and done with now?”

  Jenny cups her hands around her mouth and announces, “Shannon Bailey is a virgin. I repeat, Shannon Bailey is a virgin. Bidding starts now.”

  A few males nod in my direction, smiling, while I turn as red as the cursed cocktail in front of me.

  One of my other friends, Belle, shakes her head, holding her own tropical headache-in-a-glass. “Jen’s right, hon. You’ve got to get out there and do something about that V-card of yours. We just need to find the right,” she clears her throat, “tool to stamp it with.”

  I’m not lo
oking for a tool, a stamp, or anything else tonight. This is not my natural habitat. I’d rather be curled up at home with my animal kingdom menagerie than out here in the wild. I don’t do social situations like this. The girls practically had to drag me here as it was.

  I take a timid sip of my Popped Cherry.

  Yep. Tastes like alcohol alright.

  While the girls move onto the subject of handbags, I cautiously scan the room. I imagined a bar called The Swinging Dick would be full of unsavory types. I’m not wrong. There’s a guy in the corner who looks like a stunt double from a John Wayne film, a group of frat boys chugging down beer by the jug in the other, and a dude in a cheap suit by the bar trying to look expensive. He actually blows me a kiss when I look his way.

  Ew. It’s lavender ice cream all over again. If anything’s going to be ‘popped’ tonight, it’s going to the lid on my pepper spray.

  “Shannon!”

  I snap back to the conversation. “Sorry?”

  Jen’s shaking her head again. “Get out of the clouds and with the game. Do you see anything you like?”

  “No.” I feel like I should elaborate. It’s the social thing to do—add in a clever quip about the cowboy in the corner, but the witticism never arrives, leaving an awkward, eerie silence instead.

  “Right,” says one of the others, getting things back on track, “who’s in for chatting up the bartender?”

  Hands are raised. I keep mine locked right around the Cherry Popper, Popping Cherry—whatever this alcoholic abomination is called.

  “Shannon, you coming?”

  I give a small smile, my eyebrows knitting together. “You know, I think I’m going to sit this one out.”

  A slow nod. “Suit yourself.” And off my friends go to the bar, marooning me here at the table, and boy do the sharks start to circle. Cowboy is already getting up, pretending to stretch. I stare down into my cocktail, suddenly finding it completely fascinating.

  Do not come over. Do not come over.

  I look up and see the bartender smile at the approaching throng of push-up bras and primary-colored minis. His night is made. Jenny lost her virginity when she was fourteen. If there was a pro league of sex, she’d be in it.