The Beginning

by Teigen Harper

  “Fuck, baby” he whispers.

  My head drops to his shoulder, my hands on his waist. When he shudders from my touch, the need in me explodes. I love that he’s weak under me, just as I am under him. Tristan skims my sides, his hands exploring me and now moving to my collar bone. Quickly, I reach up and push the dress off my shoulders and let it fall to the ground. He moves his head back and eyes my body with lust burning in his gaze. His hands brush down my skin, and when he has my breasts cupped in his hands, I gasp when he begins rubbing the peaks of my nipples. “Baby,” I breathe.

  “Yeah?”

  “More,” I beg. His hands move back to my hips, and he holds on tight. He lifts us off the chair, kicking his pants away from his ankles, and my legs still wrapped around his waist. I have no idea where he’s taking us, and I’m not sure I care because he’s still inside me. With every stride, my body moves closer and closer to bliss.

  He lays me out on the back patio table, and I reach around digging my nails into his back, “Fuck, yes,” is all I hear and then it happens, he starts thrusting faster and deeper. I feel the wave threatening to crash, but I want to wait for him. I open my eyes and find his, love. Love is the only emotion I see in his irises. But then it changes, he’s almost there, so I let go. The next thrust sends me over, and I cry out with relief.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It hadn’t been a pleasant flight, even though we’d taken the family’s jet. I’d spent the majority of the time vomiting thanks to some salmon I’d eaten when we boarded. Tristan had the Chicken, so he’s feeling fine.

  By the time we arrived at the beautiful cottage Brendan and Karan had given us as a wedding gift, I was so tired I couldn’t even take a tour. I just wanted to go to sleep in a bed that didn’t move with turbulence.

  Tristan leads me through to the bedroom, which, might I add, is one of the most stunning rooms I’ve ever seen, in person. It has a Shabby Chic theme to it. Floral accents with whitewash drawers, white and light green lanterns, finished off with beautiful bird cages scattered throughout.

  He grabs my attention when he reaches up to pull my jacket off my shoulders. “I love this room. I can’t wait to see the rest of the house,” I tell him.

  He throws my jacket on the ottoman that rests in the corner. “First, you sleep. Then you can do whatever the hell you want.” His smile is infectious.

  “I think that might be a good idea.” Instead of unpacking, I take off my pants and climb into bed.

  Tristan pulls back the covers for me, places a bottle of water on the bedside table, and hands me my e-reader. “You're the most perfect husband in the whole universe,” I tell him while he leans over me, his hands on either side of my waist.

  He lets out a small laugh before kissing my forehead. “I’m going to bring in the bags.” He then pushes off the bed and stands over me.

  “I’m sorry, I’m so useless, baby.” I feel utterly horrible. I swear to god, I don’t know why he puts up with me. I’m a huge pain in the ass.

  “Go to sleep, baby girl. We’re only here so we can sort through my shit. You don’t have to help with it. I made a list of what’s to stay and what's to be donated. I’m sure my mother can help me with it since you’re unwell and not to mention the fact that her only baby is home for just a few days. She’ll want to spend every minute with me. I was shocked she wasn’t here at the house waiting for us to turn up with a casserole in hand.” He laughs. “Now, go to sleep.”

  As soon as he's left the room, I take the e-reader from off the bedside table and begin reading a new book, but it wasn’t long before my eyes began to drift shut and I fall asleep.

  Later, I’m woken by my phone that’s ringing beside me. I take a quick look around, but I don’t see Tristan anywhere, so I pick it up and answer.

  While on the phone, Tristan enters with a glass of ice water in hand and places it on the set of drawers beside the bed. When I hang up, I look up at him, confused. “What’s the matter, baby girl?” I then feel the bed dip beside me.

  I stare at the now blank screen. “That was the doctor.”

  He raises my chin with his finger until my gaze meets his. “What’s going on, Cass? You’re starting to freak me out.” My brain is running a million miles a minute. I don’t know how Tristan is going to react. I know that I have to tell him, but how? My eyes close for just a moment, and when I open them again, he’s right there in front of me. “Tell me,” he breathes.

  My gaze shifts to my lap, and I take a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

  The Beginning Book 2 will be out later this year. In the meantime, here is the first chapter of my book Broken. Enjoy!

  Thank you for your support.

  Chapter One

  Hayley

  “What are you doing?” I whisper to Logan who has his hand on my inner thigh, his grip tightening.

  He leans in. “Come on, baby. Let’s get out of here?” I can never resist when him. His blue eyes command my attention.

  God, I want to, but I know we shouldn’t. Logan’s baseball scholarship will only be open to him if his grades are kept up. Well, that isn’t exactly true, he’s so good that certain exceptions are always made. Nonetheless, he needs to be here just as much as I do.

  Gazing down at my watch, I say, “We have two minutes left. Why are you edgy suddenly?”

  He lean’s in further, his nose brushing the skin on my neck, and I feel my pulse spike from the contact alone. “I was watching you. When you looked at me and then I saw you chew on the end of the pen and now I want to get you the hell out of here.” How we ever get out of bed and get anything done, baffles me, but I understand why he’s eager, we’ve been separated the last few days, all thanks to his mother, Celeste. He presses his lips just below my ear, and again and his grip on my thigh tightens.

  I hate that he has this much power over me.

  “We can skip the next class, it’s only eco,” I whisper.

  So far today, things have been calm. Not one skank has tried to hit on my boyfriend. Fighting the bitches off is a daily pain in my ass, and it doesn’t help that Logan and his stupid brother Lucas think it’s funny.

  I’ve never understood why the whores keep trying. Logan never acknowledges them. When we’re out, his eyes are always trained on me. Since the second we started dating, just six months ago, not once has he looked at another girl.

  His twin brother Lucas (fraternal not identical) is a player. He sleeps with a different girl every night of the week, but never are they allowed to enter our tight circle. It’s me and my boys against the whole goddamn world.

  My parents are always away for work. They own a bunch of restaurants across the world. The kind that only snobs go to. My father Henry is always gone. My mother, Toni, is never with him, however, she’s also never with me. My parents are still married, but they lead separate lives. Sad? Maybe. It would be nice to have my mom around, but that isn’t the life I lead.

  Logan and Lucas pretty much reside with me these days. The only time they aren’t at my house is when my father is home, or if something's happening at their house.

  Henry, my dad, is not a big fan of the boys because they’re constantly in trouble. In the last six months, I’ve had to bail them out of lockup no less than four times for petty crimes. Repeatedly, I’ve asked Logan to tame himself because his career could be at stake, and he has, well, he’s tried.

  “Your place?” he whispers against my cheek, and all I can do is nod.

  “Oi, fuck face,” Lucas calls from the desk behind us.

  Logan leans back in his chair, “What?”

  “Are you skipping?”

  “You’re not invited,” Logan hisses.

  “You can’t keep your dick out of her for five minutes?” Lucas scoffs.

  “Nope. Goodbye, fuck head.” Logan then shoots forward in his chair, and when he does, the bell sounds. “Let’s go,” he stacks our books in one arm and takes my hand with the other.

  While in the corridor, I roll
my eyes at the girls whose tongues are practically hanging out of their mouths while staring at my man. I want to hit them, but what would that accomplish?

  “Hey, where are we going? My locker’s that way, remember?” I ask as I throw my thumb over my shoulder.

  “I’ve got my keys. Let’s go,” he repeats, and I chuckle. He’s beyond desperate to get out of here.

  “My wallet's in there, babe.”

  “I have mine, let’s go.” He’s now dragging me along.

  “My house keys are also in my locker.” That makes him come to a halt.

  “Fuck.” He turns on his heels, and we head for my locker.

  Not five minutes later, we arrive at his black, Buick Enclave. Destination, my bed. “So, what’s the matter?” I ask when we’re comfortable, and his hand is laced with mine over the console.

  “What do you mean?”

  Reaching up with my free hand, I stroke his arm, “You were pretty determined to get out of there. Something wrong? Did something happen last night that you’re not telling me about?” I know there is, but getting him to admit it, is where we have issues.

  Lucas and Logan stayed at their house last night and the three nights before that. Never have we been apart for that long since the minute he noticed me. I miss him so much that my heart aches when I think about him in bed, where he’d usually be wrapped around me.

  There’s always shit going on within his family. His mother is a raging alcoholic, and his father is never around. Logan has the weight of the world on his beautiful shoulders, and he never wants me to worry about him, it drives me nuts. He is always there for me, but because I can’t stand his mother, and the fact that she hates me when she’s drunk, that I don’t go over to their house anymore.

  In the past, I’ve had Lucas call asking me to come and calm Logan down after a fight with her, and I always manage to, but he still won’t let me in.

  Thomas, his father, is an amazing man, but I don’t see him much, he’s always away for work. Sometimes I wonder if that is the case, or is he just in hiding? Celeste, on the other hand, is always in our business. It’s not appreciated.

  “So, what happened?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Nothing. Celeste was drunk, that’s it.” He stopped calling her mom long ago.

  “Then why the hurry to get out of school?”

  He tightens his grip on my hand. “I’ve missed you. Is that okay?”

  “Of course, it is, but I wish you would let me in. I know there’s more to it.” I’m so frustrated with him. Looking over, I can see that his skin is lighter than usual and that he’s barely slept. His blue eyes normally sparkle, but today they’re almost gray.

  “It’s fine, nothing happened, okay?” He’s on edge, and lets go of my hand. I don’t say another word, but I do see his jaw clench. I’ve pissed him off, and I don’t care that I have.

  When he pulls into my driveway, I have the car door open before he’d even come to a full stop.

  “What the hell are you doing, Hayley?” he yells.

  I grab my bag and fling it over my shoulder. “I’m going in. You can go now,” I spit before turning away, slamming the door, and I don’t look back.

  Once the front door to my house is unlocked, I hear the tires of his car screech and drive away. Yep, I’ve pissed him off.

  My house is huge. It’s a little too big for my liking, but it’s lovely. It has a Shabby Chic feel to it, with whitewash tables, blue accents here and there along with lots of super comfortable overstuffed sofas.

  Frustrated, I drop my bag in the entranceway. I then walk through to the country-themed kitchen and grab an energy drink out of the fridge. I live on them. Between my homework, workouts, and family issues, I just don’t get enough sleep.

  As I take a sip, I prop myself up on a stool at the counter and debate whether I should call Lucas and ask him what had happened, but I decided against it. I know he’d tell me, but I want to hear it from Logan’s mouth, not his.

  When I’ve guzzled my energy drink, I grab another. I know I have to study, so I figure it’ll act as a nice distraction.

  My books are scattered all over the living room table, and my brain feels as if it might explode. I contemplate giving up, but I know I’m already in the shit for skipping, so I should at least have that part done.

  Two hours in, my brain felt fried. I needed to release some of my tension. My mother had a lap pool built downstairs for me when we first moved in, so that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to try and swim away my anger.

  Just over one hundred laps later, I pull myself up and onto the edge, and I do feel better for it. I feel like I can continue with my studies.

  At around six o'clock that night, my phone rings. I pick it up thinking it could be either Logan or Lucas, but it isn’t, it’s my mother. The mother I wish was here with me.

  “Hey, mom.”

  “Hayley, my love. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Same as usual.”

  “That’s good to hear. And how is that very handsome boyfriend of yours?” Mom loves, Logan. My father’s the only one that doesn’t.

  “Good. Same old, same old. Where are you?” Fuck knows where she could be.

  “London. I’m here launching the new restaurant because your father is stuck in New York, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot.” She never told me, but I find it’s easier just to agree. She claims to worry about me, but her actions sure as shit don’t show it.

  We moved to Orange County a little over six months ago, from Las Vegas. My father wanted a more wholesome town to live in because I was verging on turning eighteen at the time. Since I’d meet Logan, my father regretted the decision. He thought I would have been better off in Vegas, but he knows I won’t move now. Logan has all of me, and he's the one reason I haven’t broken down into a million pieces.

  “Is there anything you would like me to pick up for you while I'm here?” I then hear the front door open, and I know who it is. “Hayley?” my mother pushes.

  “Sorry, my head is killing me, mom. Can I call you back?” I see Logan come around the corner. His eyes immediately lock with mine.

  “No problem, sweetheart. Drink lots of water and take two aspirin.”

  “I will. Bye.”

  “Bye, sweetheart.”

  I hang up the phone and place it down on the table. My gaze is still trained on his.

  “Your mom?” he asks.

  “Yep.” That’s all he’s going to get from me, and he knows it.

  I hear him exhale a breath. Logan wants me to drop it, but that’s not going to happen. He needs to realize that we’re together and that he can’t deal with everything on his own.

  He drops down into the seat beside me. “I’m sorry.” I stay silent. “Celeste went at Lucas last night. I had to stop her from beating on him. Again.”

  My eyes close. I’ve been privy to seeing Celeste beat on her own son once before. It was a few months ago now. Lucas had called me to come and calm Logan down, but when I got there, I witnessed Lucas getting belted on by his mother. I saw red, I hit the bitch and pulled her off him. Lucas wouldn’t fight back. He’d never hit a woman, regardless of the situation. So I did it for him.

  Logan wasn’t anywhere to be seen, he’d left to cool off, but he ran when he heard Lucas yell my name and entered as I threw the last punch. She was so drunk that she remembered nothing from that night.

  Suddenly, I feel his hands on mine. “Where is he?” I care for Lucas almost as much as I do for Logan. I open my eyes and stare into his.

  “He’s out for the night. He’ll probably end up back there. He knows how much you hate the skanks he brings to the house, so to piss Celeste off, he’ll take them there.” He lets go of my hands, reaching for me, and I let him.

  He pulls me into his lap, and I bury my head into the nook of his neck. I hate that Lucas isn’t coming back here, but those sluts are doing my head in. Every female that lives in this town thinks I’m s
leeping with both Lucas and Logan. I catch looks of disgust from the girls traipse half-naked around my house.

  I didn’t ask Lucas to stop bringing them here, but he must have caught onto my moods when the whores were around. “I’d rather he stayed here.”

  His arms envelop me. “I know. I did ask him to call if she flared up. I may need to leave during the night if he does ring.”

  “You’re staying?” I wasn’t sure if he would because it’s been so long since he’s been here with me.

  “Only if you want me to.” He reaches up and tucks my hair behind my ear.

  “Of course, I do.” My head raises to look at him, and when I do, I see how sad his eyes are. I want to take all his pain and worries away. “Is there anything else you don't want to burden me with?” There’s more to it, but I don’t know if he’s ready to tell me.

  “Just Celeste.” He’ll tell me when he’s ready. I don’t want to push him. He’s close to giving up. I can’t let him do that. Yes, I was on his back earlier, but I need to cut him a break.

  “Tell me if I’m crossing a line, but I think your mother needs an intervention.” I’ve been trying to broach the subject for some time, but now feels right.

  “I don’t think it will work. She’s so stubborn.”

  My hand reaches up, and I run it through his blonde hair. God, he’s sexy.

  “What’s her weakness?”

  “What do you mean,” his brows bunch.

  “Who is the one person she will cave for? Everyone has one. Mine is you.” I lean in and kiss his cheek.

  His hands skim my arms. “Mine is you.” I watch his lips. “My mother's is Stef.” Stef is Logan and Lucas’s older sister. She moved away to college four years ago and never looked back. After she finished her studies at Harvard, she moved to New York. I talk to her a lot. I fill her in on what happens around here when the boys won’t. We’ve never met in person, but we’re close.