Beaten (Broken #1) - Rebekah Rue

BEATEN REBEKAH RUE

Beaten Rebekah Rue Copyright © 2015 Rebekah Rue This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If

you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Edited by Theresa Wegand Cover designed by Okay Creations Photo by Roser Portella Florit and Deviant Art Cover model is Amber Ornelas

This book is for all the Givers. Always remember kindness is free, so sprinkle that shit everywhere. —Unknown

Table of Contents Chapter 0.5 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter XX Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 20-sex Chapter 27 Chapter 28 A sneak peek into Heath’s book As if I haven’t said enough Acknowledgments About the Author

Chapter 0.5 Lo Two honks of a car horn come from the front of the house, and my insides break out into a riot. Alex is here. I’m more excited than ever for this, my first date. Holy mackerel!

From my bedroom, I dash down the hall and pass my parents’ door where I hear my dad’s voice. “I said no, Rose. As long as she lives under my roof, I say what goes.”

“Sweetheart, calm down. They’re just going for pizza. Plus, I know his mother. She’s in my Bible-study class. I’m sure he’s a good boy.” “I will not allow some hotshot kid to swing by and take my daughter out. She’s only sixteen. Plus, I know what goes through their immature minds. Remember, I was there once.” “I understand, but you can’t keep her locked away forever. She’s turning into a young lady; you need to accept that.” “She’s not going!” I hate my dad. He squashes any attempt I make to have a normal life. I return to my room, needing to wipe the tears out of my eyes before they wreck my face powder, and then peek out my

front window. Alex is walking up to the front door. When I hear the doorbell ring, I sit on my bed, straining my ears, knowing my father is going to turn him away. All I can hear is the rumble of a deep voice, the front door closing, and Alex’s car starting back up. Ugh, this is so unfair! Tears are welling up in my eyes when a knock sounds on my door and my mom steps in. “Honey?” I blink fast to hold the tears at bay, but she knows I’m upset. “Oh, honey, don’t cry.” She sits on my bed and wraps me in her arms. “You’re going to make your eyes all puffy, and poor Alex will have to sit with Dad while we ice them back to normal.”

I lean back and glance up at her. “What? Are you saying I can go?” She smiles and nods. “Don’t you worry about your father. I’ll take care of him.” Mom helps me freshen up, and fifteen minutes later, as I walk into the living room, I’m surprised to see Dad and Alex coming in from the backyard. “Hi, Lo.” Alex greets me with a smile, and I have to hold in a dreamy sigh. He’s two grades above me, captain of the baseball team, and owns his own car. Alex would wink at me from across the classroom until one day he cornered me by my locker, told me I was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, and then asked me out. “You ready to go?”

I steal a glance at my dad’s angry face then nod at Alex. Dad isn’t putting up a fight, but he certainly isn’t happy either. I hug both my parents tightly before walking out the door. “Your dad’s a scary guy,” Alex says, pulling out of the driveway. Dad was career military: Army. We followed him all over the world. He was a first lieutenant honorably discharged after an eighteen-year run because some new recruit set off a bomb that injured his eye and right arm. Why they chose Texas as home is beyond me. “I’m sorry. I know he can be a bit much at times.” “Yeah, he took me out back in the garage and showed me every gun he

owned, explaining what even the tiniest bullet could obliterate. Weird man.” Alex drives us beyond the city limits, past the point I’m familiar with, and continues west down a stretch of road lined with trees and no other cars. Something doesn’t feel right. “Where is this pizza place we’re going to?” He glimpses at me before refocusing on the road. “I thought we could skip pizza. There’s something I want to show you. We’re almost there.” The sign reads “Pine Hills Park.” It’s dark and creepy out. Another vehicle is there, but I can’t see any movement through its fogged-up windows. Alex steers the car to the edge of the lookout and shuts the engine off, turning to me. I

glance at him, waiting for something, but turn away, feeling oddly uncomfortable from the expression on his face. “I really like you, Lo. You’ve got everything I want in a serious girlfriend.” He runs his hand up my thigh, pushing my dress up halfway. I pull my legs together, halting his progress. “What, you don’t like me?” I shake my head, staring down at his hand. “No, it’s just—” “It’s just what?” Alex shifts, leaning over the center console dividing us, and takes my face in his hand, drawing our faces together. “I can make you so popular.” He runs his tongue up my neck, but I move away. “Don’t be scared; just be yourself and let go. I can teach you.”

His grip changes from one hand to two hands; then half his body is on top of me. My heart rate kicks up, and I don’t know what to focus on. His mouth tries to play with mine; his hands pull at my clothes. One of the straps on my dress breaks, causing the right side to slip down, and his hand to slips in. With a full palm, Alex squeezes my whole breast so hard I yelp. I need to escape, but how? “Stop, please,” I cry, trying to push him away. He moans at my attempt to move him but doesn’t budge. Every time I try to shift away, he pushes in closer. I press my body into the seat as deeply as I can and bang on the side window, hoping to draw some attention. Roughly, Alex grabs my banging fist and

successfully pins it under my thigh as he adds more pressure with his body over mine. I jerk my head side to side, attempting to keep his lips off mine and scream, but he grips my throat with such force I stop fighting. Not being able to breathe changes a lot of things. “Stop fighting me!” He growls in my face, speckles of his spit hitting my cheek. “You want this.” A stabbing pain shoots through my throat, and my vision starts to waiver. It’s now or never. I know I have to do something. With my loose hand, I reach up and forcefully jab his throat, knocking him back into his seat. Filling my lungs back up with air, I find my voice. “I said stop! And get off me!”

Alex grasps his neck, staring at me with such hate. My first instinct is to run, get away, but we’re in the middle of nowhere, thirty-five minutes from home, and it’s pitch black out. I look back at him and he speaks in graveled pants. “That wasn’t necessary.” What? “But if you’re not going to put out, get out, slut.” “Alex, please, just take me home. I won’t say anything to anyone.” “GET OUT! You’re wasting my time. You’re nothing but a little Christian girl cocktease.” Just do what he says before he does something much worse. Holding the right side of my dress up, I slide from his car, walking in the direction we came from. It’s cold, I’m shivering, and

all I want to do is cry. After some time, Alex blows by me, riding so close to the outer white line I have to jump off the road to prevent him from hitting me. I land in a pile of overgrown weeds, twisting my ankle in the process. Damn, that hurts. As fast as I can, I make my way to the first gas station I see and call a taxi. My feet hurt so bad they’re throbbing, but I can’t think about that now. Using my compact, I powder away the tear streaks from under my eyes and rig my dress strap so it stays in place. No way do I want my parents to know what happened. Knowing my dad, he’ll fly off the deep end and go on a man hunt.

Mom and Dad are sitting together on the couch, waiting up for me when I come in. “Hi, sweetheart, how was your date?” Mom asks.

All I want to do is escape to the safety of my room. But instead, I melt on a fake smile that feels so weird and answer, “It was good.” The fewer words the better. “Oh, good,” Mom says, relieved, gently touching her neck. There was nothing good about it. “Where did he take you?” “Umm, somewhere just out of town. It was dark and I didn’t catch the name.” Smile, Lo, because that looks normal. “How nice.”

“Yeah . . . well, I’m going to head to bed if that’s okay. I’m pooped.” “Okay, sweetheart. We love you. Good night.” “Good night.” I blow them a kiss, making a beeline for my shower to wash Alex’s dirty hands off me and soak my mouth in mouthwash.

Monday, I’m changing into my PE clothes when my locker is aggressively pushed shut, causing me to look up. “I heard you slept with Alex. Is that true?” Jody, the captain of the cheerleading team, is standing above me, her PE shirt knotted at the bottom to make it skin tight and the waistband on her shorts rolled to show more leg.

“No, it’s not.” “Humph.” She continues to stare as if I’m lying. “Everyone is saying your dad is a dangerous freak. What do you have to say to that?” “Who’s everyone? Alex?” “Does it matter? Is he?” “Listen. If you’re worried about me getting in the way of you dating Alex, don’t be. I don’t want anything to do with him.” “Oh, no, I heard all about it.” She smiles. “And I believe it was Alex who didn’t want you.” Let it go. No amount of clarification is going to help.

The whispers and dirty looks continue all through lunch. Keeping my

head down, I eat as fast as I can and focus on not speed walking to the garbage to throw away the trash on my tray. That’s when I see him, Alex, and his group of buddies approaching. His evil eyes hone right in on me, and one by one I’m circled, Alex in the dead center. “Hey, Lo, how is life treating you? You look really pretty today.” His hand comes down on my tray, knocking it from my grip. Milk and mashed potatoes run down my pants and soak my shoes at the same time as Alex’s goons laugh. “Uhoh, are you gonna cry?” I want to, except I know it’s safer if I stand there in silence and let him get bored. He’ll eventually leave. Dropping my head, I wait. As soon as he leaves,

I’m going to escape from all these eyes and run into the bathroom. “Get lost, pickle dick! Don’t you have a venereal disease to catch?” I look up to a pretty blonde pushing at Alex’s chest, chasing him away. He doesn’t mess with her. He steps away backwards, spitting a good-bye. “Always a pleasure, Maggie.” “Pleasure my ass. Now get lost.” She’s not afraid. Once they leave, the little blonde takes me by the forearm and ushers me to the bathroom. For some reason, I hold still and watch as she cleans all the food off my clothes. “Why did you do that for me?” “Because we girls have to stick together.” She looks up at me briefly and

smiles the prettiest smile. “Plus, I hate him. Back in sixth grade, Alex smeared red marker on my seat in class. When I stood up, the whole room laughed and chanted, “Bloody Mary.” So I followed him into the bathroom, caught him off guard in one of the stalls, and kneed him in his nuts. His eyes crossed, and he fell to his knees like a sissy. His perfect hair looked dirty to me, so I took it upon myself to help him out. I grabbed a great big handful, dunked his head in the toilet, and flushed. He didn’t even fight me, holding his family jewels the whole time.” She pulls several more paper towels from the wall and continues to scrub. “But don’t worry about him; he won’t mess with you again.”

“You weren’t afraid. You got in his face, and he actually backed down. I don’t understand. How are you so brave?” Maggie stands up and shoots the wad of paper towels into the trash from where we were standing. “I grew up in a house with three brothers. Penises are my specialty.” “Thank you.” I smile, hugging her off guard. Alex never messes with me again, and that’s the beginning of a lifelong friendship between Maggie Reese and me. Instant best friends, we have it all planned out. We’re going to attend the same college, be roommates, find boyfriends who are friends, and never

be separated. After graduation, things don’t go as planned. Maggie gets accepted to UCF down in Central Florida, and my parents strongly encourage me to stay locally. I’m devastated.

Chapter 1 Lo It’s the first night of my college Anatomy and Physiology class. With my hand clutching the strap over my shoulder, I exhale a long breath. “You can do this; this isn’t high school,” I tell myself. Pulling the door open, I scurry to the back of the class and take a seat at an empty black lab table that seats two. The room is quiet since only a handful of people are in here, and everyone looks as nervous as I feel. Minding my own business, I find a pen in my bag, pull

out some highlighters, and open my binder so I’m ready to take notes.

Over the next ten minutes, students trickle in; still, no one sits by me. Ms. McCloud begins class with roll call, reviewing the syllabus, and assigning lab partners. “Lo Knight and Benjamin Bosmer.” My new lab partner. I look around for this Ben guy, except no one gets up. After a few beats, someone finally speaks. “Ah, Ms. McCloud, I have an issue.” Ben stands and everyone’s attention sticks to him. “Yes?” “You see I have a problem working with her.” Ms. McCloud narrows her eyes and

purses her lips, waking up every ageline on her face. “Is that so?” “Yeah, I’m sure she’s very nice, but she’ll mess with my natural ability to learn. Instead of focusing on the anatomy I’m studying, I’ll be focusing on her anatomy.” Ew, what a pig! “Okay, okay, okay, that’s enough.” She huffs once, scanning her arthritic finger down the roll. “I’ll be her partner.” My eyes shoot to the profile of a guy who’s sitting next to Ben. The guy stands, sticks his pen in his mouth, and collects his books before she even says “yes.” “Ah, Heath Mavrick, nice to see you. I can’t tell you how I’m just bursting with joy to have you in my class again—

as if you weren’t a big enough pain in my gluteus maximus the first time around.” “Why thank you, Ms. McCloud. The feeling is mutual.” She waves him away and makes a note on her papers in front of her. As he turns around and saunters towards me, my insides warm, and he has my full attention. He’s downright sexy, mysteriously dark, and his arms are dripping in tattoos. His face screams confidence, smiling with lips so dreamy at me. I have to tilt my head up to see him when he circles the table; he’s that tall. My eyes seem to savor him. “May I take a seat?” Deep sweet charm oozes from his voice with the tiniest hint of a

southern twang. He sits, changing my breathing. “You’re in luck.” He leans in as if he’s telling me a secret, and I lean back, feeling intimidated, studying his face, and feeling a nervous shiver tickle down me. “Last semester I took half of Ms. McCloud’s class before I dropped it.” “How does that make me lucky?” He tips a brow and whispers. “Rumor has it she doesn’t change her tests.” Ah, I see. “That’s nice. I’m not a cheater.” “Good.” Heath wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in, holding his cell phone far out in front of us. Before I can catch him, he pushes his lips to the

outer crease of mine, and the camera makes a shutter sound. “Excuse me?” I tingle all over from his small bit of contact, my right hand pushing him away. “Mr. Mavrick!” Both our heads spin back to Ms. McCloud. “Pardon us, but would you suggest I put the class on hold while you and Ms. Knight get to know each other better? I wouldn’t want to get in the way of something more important than your GPA.” “We’re sorry, Ms. McCloud. Please bless our ears with your words of wisdom.” Heath pulls his cell phone so the screen is facing him. What is he smiling at? “You got me in trouble,” I whisper,

and he continues to stare at his phone. “What are you doing?” He turns his face back to me, and I can’t stop staring. “Remembering this day.”

Without fail, every Monday and Wednesday, Heath stands next to the classroom door and waits on me. At first he acts like it’s coincidence—he’s finishing up a phone call— but I see right through him. Then he grins. His smile makes me smile as if he has strings attached to my lips that I can’t control. I pretend he doesn’t affect me, but my body is positive he does. I can feel all the subtle changes: sweaty palms, fluttering heart, frog in the throat . . .

Wait what’s he doing? Why is he taking

my book bag? My brows scrunch up and his smile disappears. No. “Let me help you out,” Heath says in a smooth male voice, sliding two fingers under my shoulder strap, but I stop him with a hand. He acts so comfortable around me it’s confusing. Now Heath is eyeing me expectantly, waiting for me to accept or refuse his help. I should refuse —he did get me in trouble the first night —but then again he is my lab partner. Really all I want is to see his smile again. So I nod and remove my hand. Up the corners of his lips go. Up mine go. Looking down, he plucks my book bag from my shoulder and slides it over

one of his. For the briefest moment, I stare and enjoy everything I see. Then we lock eyes one last time, and he opens the door for me. “Ladies first.” Over the weeks, I quickly become addicted to Heath and his little gestures. He’s a free soul, a wild card. Guys like him are the reason my parents keep a keen eye on me, I’m sure. Everything about him pulls me in. He’s dangerous, sexy. I know Daddy will never approve of him, so I skip a lot of class and sneak out. I glance back in the mirror for over the hundredth time. My jeans and tank top give the appearance that I’m going to class, except I’m not. No, I’m a wreck

and don’t know if I can do this. The house phone rings once. That’s my cue; Heath is in place. I make a production on my way out, joyfully swinging my book bag over my shoulder in plain sight. “I’ll see you after class,” I call from the hall to my parents, blowing them a kiss as I tousle their car keys. “Drive carefully,” Dad calls out. Driving a mile down the street, I immediately notice Heath’s truck waiting in the shadows. Whipping the car behind a large dumpster, I jump out and escape into his truck. “Oh my gosh, it worked.” I giggle, clicking my seatbelt in. Heath fondly smiles, lacing our fingers together and pulling out onto the main road. “You know I could just text you when

to sneak out if you had a phone,” Heath says. Later that evening, I go home and beg my parents for a cell phone.

In two short months, the love bug has bitten me, and Heath has become my whole world. I think of nothing else.

Tonight we’re driving down to our secret little lake. It’s a warm and dark night. The stars are shining so brightly, like tiny spotlights through the long rustling trees. Not a rippling blemish marks the lake’s glassy surface. Backing the truck up to the water’s edge, we leave the doors open and take off

running hand in hand into the cool water, clothes and all. A smile stays glued to my face, and we laugh, swimming in a mess of tangled limbs without a care. It’s now, gazing into his passionate gray eyes and that smile I could die for, that I realize just how deep my feelings are for him. Heath shows me just how freeing life can be. I’ve grown to love Heath. I didn’t fall in love. Falling in love opens up the potential to fall out of love with him, and I never want that option. Making our way out of the lake, Heath stops me with the slightest tug to my hand. His face is serious; he pulls me to him from the back of my neck, barely touching me, and rests his forehead against mine. I close my eyes and slowly

inhale his thick swirling scent of cinnamon into my nostrils. His smell does crazy things to my young hormones. “Oh, Heath,” I barely whisper, consumed with peaceful emotions. “Lo, be my girl?” he whispers on the edge of my lips. Frantic butterflies flutter up my core and bubble out in the form of a giddy giggle. Heath takes that as a confirmation and crashes his lips over mine. His tongue slips into my mouth and sensually twists mine up with his. His other hand runs along the side of my body, gently grazing my breast, triggering tingles and goose bumps down my skin, and ends with a solid grip to my hips. With his

kiss, I fall even deeper under his spell; it’s all-consuming and passionate. Between needy pants, I place both hands on his chest and give a light push, breaking the kiss. Licking my lips and tasting him still on me, I look down, suddenly feeling shy. He’s way out of my league. I’m clumsy and inexperienced in every way, but Heath doesn’t seem to notice, taking control of the kiss. Without a word, Heath wraps a decorative arm around my shoulder and places a gentle kiss to the top of my head. He leads me to the back of his truck, reaches in his tool box, and pulls out a blanket and two towels. He unrolls the blanket and lays it in the bed of his truck as I partially dry myself with my

towel. Gently taking my wrist, Heath helps me up, guiding me to lie down. He crosses his ankles and rests his hands behind his head, and I prop my head up on my rolled-up towel and use it as a pillow. The night air dries us as we stare at the enchanting twinkling holes in heaven. Hundreds of crickets and frogs are singing, when from the corner of my eye, I see Heath roll to his side and prop himself up on his elbow. “Do you like me, Lo?” he asks in a low warm tone. Lazily, my head falls to the side, and I look up at his handsome face. “Yes, you know I do.” A happy smile slides across his face as he moves closer to my side. Leaning

over me, he reaches, placing one hand by the side of my head and holding himself up. His soft silver eyes scan my face, focusing onto my brilliant green ones as he skims his knuckles down my cheek. “You know you’re so damn beautiful, don’t you?” I don’t think he’s truly searching for an answer, so I keep quiet, trying to steady my breathing since my heart wants to beat out of my chest. “Mm, you smell fucking amazing too.” He growls as his lips caress the side of my neck, traveling up to my ear. I’m not sure how far I’m going to let him take this. My parents drummed in my head to wait until marriage for sex as they did, but I don’t always agree with

them. His hands find the bottom of my wet shirt and bring it up, exposing my baby pink demi bra. “Shit, Lo, you drive me fucking wild.” Yeah, well, he’s doing the same to me; my insides are messy and my panties are soaked. Stroking the bare skin on my belly with his fingertips, Heath leans down and presses deep kisses to my lips. Kisses infused with love. With my shirt still up, I feel the top button of my jean shorts pop open and my shorts slide down to my knees. Oh my God! Heath must like what he sees because his hands are all over me, frantically kneading my breasts, stroking my belly, and softly kissing my clit through my wet panties. I know he can

feel how turned on I am when he pushes the edge of my panties aside and slips a large finger deep inside me. The sensation is too much, causing me to arch my back and grip the blanket firmly between my fingers. Letting out a sexy moan, he slowly moves one of his hands up my leg, wrapping his fingers around my waist to steady me. His erection is rock hard and ready as it pushes into my thigh. Slowly, my body starts to relax, and I begin to enjoy the sensation, moving my hips to the dance of his finger. All the while Heath stares at my face, taking in the pleasure he’s eliciting and whispering gentle praises. When I hear the sound of a foil packet opening and feel his finger leave me, my eyes

pop open to see his straining cock pulled out through his zipper and him rolling the rubber down his shaft. “I can’t wait, love. I need you so bad!” His words knock the wind out of me. Settling in between my legs, he uses his knees to spread me wide. Heath doesn’t know I’m a virgin, but he’s making me feel so good. I can’t find the voice to tell him. Heath’s latex tip whispers at my entrance when suddenly, to our left, an engine roars and bright headlights from an SUV burst through a row of trees, blinding us. Within seconds, my father steps out of his vehicle and stomps over, rifle in hand. The tight expression on his

face makes him appear meaner than I’ve ever seen him. Pure full-on rage etches his features; I actually fear for Heath’s life. Swift as a skilled killer, Dad reaches up and grabs a hand full of Heath’s hair, ripping him off me and tossing him across the field like a rag doll. “Lo! Car! Now!” Dad barks. My whole body begins to tremble uncontrollably as I hop out of the bed of the truck. Keeping my head down, I right my shirt and fumble to button my shorts back up. I know Daddy would never hurt me, but I’ve never disappointed him either. We don’t give Heath a second glance and quickly secure ourselves in the SUV, the noise of rushed breathing

and silence painfully hanging in the air. “Why?” My dad seethes low and through his teeth. I swallow hard, feeling sick to my stomach. No words will make him understand, so I keep quiet. “ANSWER ME! WHY?” he shouts in my direction. I wince and keep my gaze down, hands clasped in my lap. “Do you realize what could have happened to you if I hadn’t shown up? Do you want to be known as a whore? Because that’s what you look like putting yourself in that position!” Looking up at him, I plead, “Daddy, it wasn’t like that!” CRACK.

With certainty, I can tell you that my father has a large hand. Instinctively, mine shoots up to cover the stinging that radiates from under my small palm. I sit there for a long while, completely in shock, as tears blur my vision, filling my eyes and threatening to spill over at any minute. How could he? Feeling the SUV move, I softly cry, shielding my face with a curtain of blond hair. When we pull up to the house, he puts the vehicle in park and turns his body to look at me. “Lo, I’m sorry. When you didn’t come home after your class, I began to worry. I tried to talk myself down, telling myself that you probably just got a bite to eat with a friend, but then you never called. Something told

me to track you through your cell phone. Thank God I gave you that phone. It showed your location to be in an empty field in the middle of nowhere. An empty field! A multitude of horrible images played out in my head. I tried to prepare myself for what I might find. Then I spotted the truck and saw movement in the back.” He doesn’t need to continue the story. We both know what happened after that. I can’t take being in the same car with him any longer. Unlocking the door, I jump out and run to my room, slamming and locking the door behind me. I throw myself on the bed, and when my head hits the pillow, the flood gates of tears swing wide open.

I cry for allowing myself to be free for just a moment. I cry for the awkwardness I’m going to have to once again endure at school. But mainly, I cry because the one man who truly loved and protected me all these years broke my trust with a stroke of his hand.

Chapter 2 Lo Over the next several weeks, my relationship with my parents becomes strained beyond belief. Mom immediately takes me to the gynecologist for a full-screening blood test and an insertion of a birth-control implant. The implant is a tiny little thing and is injected just under the skin of my upper inner arm, rendering me sterile for the next three years. My parents stress it’s necessary to prevent any unwanted pregnancies due to my “promiscuous behavior.”

Dad frequently tracks my whereabouts and demands I check in whenever I’m coming or going. I’m on lock-down hell and I’m over it! I’m nineteen years old, and by God, I’m gonna start doing what I damn well please. Heath apologized for disrespecting me and is sorry for pissing off my dad. We keep in contact but more under the radar. Heath went out and bought me a cheap prepaid cell phone that I keep hidden from Dad. Usually, I leave the cell phone my parents gave me at home and sneak out; so if Dad tries to track it, it looks like I’m somewhere at home. I’ve fallen hard for Heath and multiple times have come very close to giving him my virginity, but I always chicken out at the last minute.

It’s the middle of December, and with all the days I skipped with Heath, I’m on the cusp of failing. Who can keep organized the multitude of ways the

kidneys filter urine or the route which the blood flows through the heart? My brain is toast. Heath and I have plans to go over to the house of one of his friends, who is having a Christmas party. My parents are going over to Malory’s, a close friend of the family, for dinner and drinks. I’ve been lying low, quietly hanging out in my room, hoping my parents will hurry up and leave soon. Hearing a knock, I glance up from my Kindle. “Hey, sweetheart.” “Hi, Dad.” “I want to invite you over to Mal’s with us. We’d really like you to go. It will be fun. What do you say?” “Ah, thanks, but I’d really just like to

have a night to myself.” He narrows his eyes, letting go of the door handle, and strides deeper into my room. “It’s that boy, isn’t it?” “No,” I say too quickly. “I told you to stay away from him. He’s no good! Now get dressed; you’re going with us!” “You can’t tell me what to do, and I don’t care what you say. I’m going out with him tonight.” “So help me God, child, you will be the death of me!” Moving to my closet, he grabs a pair of flip-flops and throws them at me. “Put your shoes on. You’re going whether you like it or not.” Straightening my spine, I sit up tall, trying to muster up as much confidence

as I can. “I. Said. No.” Daddy takes a step back as if he’d been shot. Hurt and sadness darken his face as he gently shakes his head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately. Your mother and I don’t even know who you are anymore. We don’t spend time together, and if we do, you’re tight-lipped about what’s going on in your life. We care for you and only want what’s best. Please don’t make us enemies, Lo.” Turning my head, not being able to take the expression on his face anymore, I refocus on my Kindle. “Have a lovely time tonight.” Dad flinches and pauses. Releasing a defeated sigh, he moves to sit on the

edge of my bed. “Goodnight, Lo. Whatever you do, please be careful, and remember your mother and I love you with our whole hearts. You’ll always be our baby girl.” Dad leans over and gently kisses my forehead before making his way sullenly out of my room. I won! All the energy inside of me wants to jump up and down. I won! Finally, I’ve broken from his cage. I’ve played the part of the obedient daughter and have always been a good girl, but tonight I’m going to have fun. I mean, tons of other girls are doing so much more at my age than I am. Thirty minutes later Heath texts me he’s outside.

The night is a blast! The main theme is an ugly sweater party; they hold a competition and even have corny prizes. The small apartment holds about twentyfive people, and we all laugh a lot, snack on hors d’oeuvres, and drink cheap wine. I don’t drink that much. I know I’ll have to sneak back into the house, and no doubt Dad will be waiting for me with a lecture the second I walk through the front doors. Pulling into the driveway around one in the morning, I notice my parents’ car isn’t in its usual spot. No lights are on in the house, not even the ones on the porch. Could I have beaten them home? “Thank you for an amazing evening, Heath.”

“You’re so welcome, my love.” We kiss a very dreamy good-night kiss. After I unlock the front door, he waits until I’m safely inside before driving away. My body is humming. I’m deliriously happy, floating around, getting ready for bed. I’ll never forget this night. Tucking myself in, I check my phone one last time before drifting easily to sleep, letting feelings of satisfaction wrap me like a warm blanket. Around four in the morning, I awake to the sound of knocking at my front door. Knock, knock, knock. “Dad, get the door!” I yell. Nothing. Several more minutes of knocking continue, and I decide to get up. I blink a

couple times, trying to clear my mind from the sleep fog and pull the door open. Two police officers stand side by side under the porch lights. I barely remember welcoming them in. They introduce themselves as Officer Myers and Detective Cimorelli. “Miss Knight, why don’t we take a seat?” Detective Cimorelli offers, extending his hand in the direction of the dining room, but I don’t move. I know from movies that this is bad, very bad. “I don’t want to take a seat. What can I do for you, gentlemen?” Officer Myers glances at Detective Cimorelli, debating whether to proceed. Their silence is making me very nervous. “Please just tell me.”

Officer Myers takes a deep breath. “Okay . . . your parents have been in an accident.” I cover my mouth in shock and begin to panic. “Are they okay? What happened? Where are they?” “Calm down. Are you sure you won’t sit?” “Are my parents okay!” I scream, scared shitless. Officer Myers’s Adam’s apple bobs with a swallow and he continues. “Your parents were sitting at a red light when two cars raced through that intersection. A twenty-three-year-old male driving a souped-up Mitsubishi Eclipse lost control and crashed into your parents’ driver’s side door.” I gasp out a small

sob. “From the evidence, we believe both cars spun out, until plowing into a gas station pump, pinning your parents’ car between the pump and the other car. The pump broke open and fuel spilled out everywhere. Even the gas station attendant couldn’t get the emergency turnoff switch to work. Unfortunately, the twenty-three-year-old had nitrous tanks built into his car, and the intensity of the impact caused one of his tanks to break open. No one expected it. The mixture of the gasoline and nitrous was deadly and instantly ignited the two vehicles.” “Oh my God!” I wail, feeling my stomach twist into knots. “Fire and rescue didn’t make it to the scene on time to save your mom and

dad.” He pauses. “We’re sorry to have to tell you this, but they never made it out of that car.” My legs feel paper thin, sending me to the ground, and my heart shatters into a million pieces. Earth-crushing tears of pain pour out of me, all over the floor. One of the officers kneels down and places a hand on my back. I didn’t really want my parents to disappear. Please let this be a joke. I promise God I’ll be the perfect teenager if He’ll give me another chance. I’ll do anything. More crying and hard sobs follow. I fucking lose my marbles on that floor. The officer with his hand on my back patiently sits there, listening to me for a while. After I begin to calm, he clears

his throat and helps me into a chair in the dining room. Once I’m in a chair, my face falls in my arms to the table, and I sob even more. I cry until my body is drained—so exhausted it’s hard for me to catch my breath. Once I do, I don’t dare look at either officer, even though they’re both staring at me. “Is there someone we can call for you? We have some phenomenal grief counselors on staff if you need someone to talk to. Day or night, don’t hesitate.” Detective Cimorelli slides a yellow cheery business card my way. Kindly the officers leave, and just like that, I’m alone. Not a blood relative around to simply confide in. I try to make sense of all the facts,

but the last conversation I had with my dad keeps replaying in a loop in my head. “You will be the death of me! You will be the death of me! I love you and you will always be our baby girl.” The newspaper reports the same information the officers delivered, adding the part where witnesses stated they heard screams coming from the vehicles. I could have done without knowing that. That sends me overboard again. I become a recluse after that, never leaving my bed. I can’t even find the energy to open my bloodshot eyes. I don’t want to eat, and I cry hours on end to the point I’m so dehydrated tears won’t even fall. If only I had gone with

my parents or not been so selfish to stake my independence, they might still be here. Guilt and abandonment darken my perceptions of daily living and fester with every day that passes. Essentially, life takes a shit on me. My only godsend is Maggie. She received word of the accident and immediately dropped everything and flew back to Texas. She stays several weeks. She is my rock, my shoulder to cry on, my pain in the ass, my best friend, and my hero. Maybe not right away, but slowly Maggie coaxes me out of my depression and gets me functioning with society again. Planning the small funeral is one of the hardest things ever. There are no

bodies to bury. Maggie barely leaves my side as several people gather to pay tribute to my parents. I had blown up several pictures and placed them on the church’s altar. I stop taking Heath’s phone calls, even though he’s very persistent. I can’t. In my heart, a tiny part of me feels he’s to blame for their deaths. He’s tried leaving notes on my doorstep, but no words can fix us at this point. Each letter as it arrives is thrown in a box beneath my bed. Christmas comes and goes, but I barely notice. The holiday will forever be tainted with blackness as far as I’m concerned. Since Maggie has flown back, I live as a shell of my former self for two

months. Maggie and I decide it will be best to pack my things and move in with her. Too many memories linger here and it hurts too much. Using the money from my parents’ life insurance, I pack up and start the process of moving to Florida where I’ll start a new life. I have no family in Texas, no ties or reasons for me to stay. Plus, my dream was to always attend UCF with Maggie. This is my time to find me, make a difference, and grow strong. I have one mission, and this time, no tatted-up, smooth-talking bad boy is going to detour me.

Chapter 3 Lo My three-hour flight from Austin, Texas, to Orlando, Florida, is the flight from hell. From the smelly oversized man spilling from his seat into mine, to the chorus of agitated babies scattered throughout the plane, my nerves are shot! Maggie is picking me up from the airport. I feel like I can’t get to the baggage claim fast enough and am getting anxious. I’ve missed her so much! Turning the corner, I immediately spot her dirty blond hair, and as if they have a

mind of their own, my leopard Michael Kors flip-flops pick up the pace, double time. In a storm of blond hair and squeals, we collide, wrapping each other tight in our arms. It feels amazing having her around, like breathing fresh air again. Taking a step back from our embrace, I glance down to see a cardboard sign dangling from her hand. Maggie notices where I’m looking, and a huge smile spreads across her face, emphasizing her perfect cheek bones. Proudly, she raises the sign so I can take in its full effect. WELCOME HOME, SWEET TITS! CONGRATS ON GETTING ALL YOUR DILDOS PAST SECURITY.

My mouth drops open; I’m thoroughly embarrassed and one hundred percent sure I’m an unattractive shade of

red. In a flash, I grab Maggie’s hand and dash us out of the airport, letting her crummy sign fall near the trash where it belongs. To my surprise, we don’t head home. One of Maggie’s clients called right before I landed, begging her to come over and fix her hair crisis. Evidently, the lady urgently needs to leave town, and Maggie, with her heart of gold, won’t let her leave in a mess. I drop her off at an impressive high-rise condo in downtown Orlando. Maggie informs me that the fix is going to take some time and will catch a ride home. She feels bad and apologizes profusely for ditching me seconds after I got there, but I’m fine. I need to get a few things done

anyway. I’m driving around in Maggie’s red Jeep Wrangler, tapping my fingers to the beat of the music on the steering wheel, searching for a store to pick up some much-needed odds and ends. I have no idea where I’m going. Maggie had tried to give quick directions, but after the third left-left-right, she’d lost me. I’ve been driving for nearly thirty minutes when, purely by the grace of God, I pull up to the next stop light, and there it is . . . Walmart. Quickly checking in my mirror, I jerk the wheel to the right and perform a three-lane sweep across, only to encounter a heavy blasting horn coming at me from all angles. Every muscle in my body tightens as the driver

of a large SVT Ford Raptor slams on his brakes and impressively swerves to miss my bumper. “SHIT!” It all happened so fast that it looked like a royal blue blur with a very distinctive large middle finger welcoming me to Florida.

Stumbling into my new condo with bags overflowing from my arms and my bank account two hundred dollars lighter, I’m greeted by Maggie. Right on her heels is a black-white-and-orangestriped tabby cat. “Who’s that little tiger?” I ask, motioning with my head. Maggie immediately starts taking bags

and unloading them. “This is your other new roommate; his name is Diddy.” Diddy jumps up on the counter and inspects all the new goods, sticking his furry paws in the plastic bags. “Why are you wasting your money on this?” Maggie says, handing me my athome body-waxing kit. I quickly snatch it from her and put it to the side. I, unlike Maggie, prefer to keep strangers away from my private parts. I wax them myself. She isn’t shy, never worries about anything, and is the most beautiful person I know. Girls envy her long, shiny, dirty-blond hair, ivory skin, and strange mixed gray-green eyes, adorned with the longest set of lashes I’ve ever

seen. She’s a little taller than I am at 5’5”, but we have the same body shape, making it easy for us to swap clothes. “This is the way it should have been since day one: you and me living together. I’m so pumped.” She practically bounces in place. “Do you remember some of that freaky shit we did?” Walking over to the fridge, I pull out a bottle of water and take a soothing gulp. Leaning my hip up against the counter, I nod, remembering all too well. Maggie comes over, grabs her own water, and sits on the opposite counter top. “Like the time we snuck over to Roger and Ryan’s house. You got stuck with nerdy Roger while I got to have my

way with that tight piece of ass Ryan. All the chicks wanted a slice of dat. Twins! Hell, I should have taken them both. You’re a lucky little bitch. I like you enough to share my toys.” Diddy loses interest in my box of tampons and stalks over to me, purring loudly. He grazes his body across my back over and over, sideswiping me. I reach over and pet him. “You had to bring that up, like you were really doing me a favor. He went on and on all night how the newest Call of Duty had the best graphics yet.” Maggie tosses her water bottle cap at my face. “Did you know I asked Ryan to put it in my butt that night?” Her face goes painfully priceless as she shakes

her head. “I know. I know. I watched some freaky porn earlier that day; I was curious.” “So you hated it.” “You stick a baseball bat in a tiny hole that doesn’t make lubrication and tell me how it feels.” In one breath, I burst into laughter, and in the next, I’m grabbing my chest, choking. Diddy freaks out and takes off down the hall. Maggie doesn’t try moving her ass cheeks, which I now know have been fully probed. No, she stares at me, bored, her tone dry. “You feel better? Did you get that lung up?” I give her an evil smirk, and a short laugh escapes her. “So . . . I know you’re

probably tired, but everyone is getting together tonight at Wrecker’s Field.” “What goes down there?” I barely say, my nose and throat burning. “Oh, you know, the usual. It’s social hour. We just all kind of hang out. You are gonna love everyone. We should start getting ready so we can do dinner first.” I watch as she swings her legs, popping herself off the counter and sashaying towards her bedroom door. Before walking in, she stops and turns around. “Oh, Lo, make sure you look hot as fuck tonight. Serious man candy will be there, and I feel a cavity coming on.” With such sass, she snaps two fingers and is off. What have I gotten myself into? All I

can do is laugh.

The scene at Wrecker’s Field, when we pull up, is nothing like I envisioned. The place looks like trouble and gives me eerie goose bumps. It’s completely dark outside with only a few working streetlamps to light the area. We enter through a large gate that’s propped open with a brick, and razor wire hangs haphazardly from pieces of fence that are still standing. A crumbling old brick building sits in one of the far corners of the field, and parked in a row are several rusted clunkers that are being covered by the overgrown grass. As we drive closer, I can see tons of brightly painted cars parked strategically so that the headlights light up a large area. The smell of burning gasoline and the ear-splitting roar of racing cars churns my

stomach and evokes bad memories I try so hard to forget. When a wave of nausea rolls through me, I place a firm hand on my midsection and beg my body to calm down. Oh no, hold it together, Lo. I don’t know if I can do this.

As the Jeep comes to a stop, Maggie notices how tense I am and silently places a supportive hand in mine, holding it tightly while I fight the urge to bolt. “You okay? We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” Her reassuring smile helps. Holding very still, I take slow deep breaths and focus, feeling a little better with every lungful. I think I can do this, for her. People are all over. Some are hanging around their cars, leaning against the hoods, or in the bed of their trucks, while others flitter around from

group to group, mingling. Now the women are a species all their own. Skanks, bimbos, floozies, harlot, tramps, hussies, whatever you want to call them, this place is ground zero. I feel incredibly out of place with my long blond hair hanging straight to the middle of my back, except for my bangs which I’d braided to the side. My jeans fit just right with a white tank top and a pair of cowboy boots. I am from Texas after all. We park next to this intimidatingly beefed-up black Mustang. It sports a hood scoop and shiny black rims that have a thin ribbon of neon green lining the edges. Creeping up the body of the beast is a neon green smiling phantom,

circling over both hips. And topping off the trunk is a sleek thin spoiler. This car fills me with dread and churns my stomach. A car like this had taken everything away from me. It makes me want to run. We meet up with a group of Maggie’s friends. Each set of eyes surveys me as we approach. I’m the new girl; it’s daunting. A beautiful raven-haired biker chick speaks up first. “Is this her?” Maggie throws her arm around me and takes over. “Sosh, this is my best friend from back home, Lo Knight.” Sasha’s eyebrows lift and a smug smile appears. “She’s quite the southern belle,” she says, eyeing me like I don’t fit. Then she fixes her demeanor and

extends a hand. “I’m sorry; that was rude. Nice to meet you, Lo. Maggie hasn’t stopped talking about you. You’re just not what I expected.” We shake hands while I try to give her a smile, analyzing what her little comment means. “Lovely to meet you as well, do you race?” I gesture to the area where it’s taking place. She laughs. “Hell no, I own an auto garage called Lady Parts down on Central, and all the goons you see here go there to either hang out or work on their rides. My specialty is motorcycles.” “Please, her specialty is keeping all those horny dicks in line,” Maggie says. “When Sasha first opened the garage,

every one of these guys tried to tap that ass. They would hang out there for hours, even if they didn’t care two shits about cars, but they aren’t what she’s into.” “Oh, stop, they did not. They come around because they view me as one of the guys, the stress of having to impress a chick is gone, and they don’t have to hold their tongues. For the most part, they do what they want and bring me in business.” Yeah, one of the guys, my ass. Sasha seems to move Maggie away a few steps, but I can still hear them talking. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done bringing her here? You’re just asking for trouble. She’s going to be a problem, you know this.”

Hello, I can still hear you. “Don’t say that. Believe me. I’ve already thought of it and hopefully have fixed that problem.” “You’re delusional. You know we don’t run with a gentle crowd.” Sasha catches me listening and pins me with her stare. “Keep your nose clean and try not to get mixed up with any of the guys out here. We’ve got some real doozies that will want to mess you up just for fun. You got me?” I nod, not understanding why she’s being all territorial. Plus, I can guarantee there will be no mixing. I learned that lesson the hard way. Maggie’s phone chirps in her hand, and she looks down, taking a moment to

read it. “Well, guess what girls? I just got a text from Stone, and he’s invited us over to his place. What do you say we get out of here?” Sasha rolls her eyes and says she’ll catch us later. Everyone must have gotten that text because the crowds of people begin to thin. Twenty minutes later we pull up to a modest two-story brick house taking up the end of a cul-de-sac. We park in the driveway, get out, and zig zag our way through the mass of cars parked everywhere. Right before Maggie turns the knob, I reach out and stop her. “Wait. We’re not just going to walk in, are we?” She smirks at me, coolness written all over her face as she waves me off.

“Yeah, Stone is cool as fuck. Plus, we bumped uglies last year so that gives me some rights, right? She is so matter-of-fact it throws me off. Don’t people believe in love anymore? Does sharing bodily fluids with a stranger automatically get you a key to his front door? I surely don’t know the

etiquette for one-night stands, nor do I want to. I’ll never understand how people find that normal. The inside of Stone’s house is like the set of an American Pie movie during one of Stiffler’s parties. The intimidating number of people makes it difficult to move, and if Maggie hadn’t been holding my hand, my feet wouldn’t have moved from the front door. Red cups hang from

almost everyone’s hands, and in the dining room, a noisy game of beer pong is taking place. Maggie hooks elbows with me and weaves us through the crowd, bumping anyone in the way. The kitchen counters hold a forest of alcohol. Maggie pours something clear in a tiny glass and passes it to me. “Here. Down this. You need to loosen up.” I hesitate briefly then choke down the violent flavor that packs a fierce punch. My throat spasms, and I set down the cup, feeling the warmth travel down with the blood in my arms. Maggie follows suit, downing a double like a champ, and pulls me in another direction. We are walking through the living

room when a short brown-haired girl sitting on the couch calls Maggie over. Maggie sits in the middle, and I squeeze in on the side like the third wheel, scoping out the people dancing. The lights are barely a glow in this room. Two guys in particular catch my eye. They’re “dancing” with a pretty redhead pressed in between them. Her head and back are leaning casually against the chest of the guy who is behind her. His hands hold her pelvis tightly to his groin, as he kisses down her throat. The guy “dancing” in front is just as close, playing with a sneaky hand up her skirt. Involuntarily, her body shakes; she can’t seem to keep still. Her head rolls to the side and her mouth drifts open. They’re

so gentle with her. This strange tingle starts between my thighs, and I can’t take my eyes off them. Apart from being in public, it looks like it feels amazing. Half-drugged, she opens her eyes, mouth parted slightly, and her gaze falls on mine. Oh no! I glance away, turning my attention to Maggie’s conversation. All the tingles I felt moments ago are quickly wiped away with embarrassment, knowing I just got caught watching such an intimate moment.

Talon Fuck, I love my life and wouldn’t change one damn thing about it. Standing in the bathroom

of the pool house, my back is resting against the palm tree wallpaper while I look at nothing in particular across the room. Dropping my vision down past the plane of my ripped abs, I see two brown irises peering up at me, except right now they’re blue from the contacts covering them. Vicky’s lips are right where they belong—around a cock.

Maybe that’s why she had them filled with collagen. They feel like a lush set of tits I’m fucking. With her right hand, she tugs on my nuts. A sharp pain stabs the right one, making me flinch, and my dick shrinks fractionally. Fuck, what does she think they are? Balls of PlayDoh? Cut that shit out; it fucking hurts. Trying to redirect her, I remove my hand from the back of her bobbing head and give the side of her face a pat, feeling

my dick moving through her malnourished cheek. Skinny-ass bitches. It’s just nasty. Vicky takes the hint, removes her mouth with a pop, and reaches up, gripping my dick with more force than motherfucking necessary. She strokes her tongue on the underside of my shaft, over and over like a cat drinking water. The fuck? I bend slightly to see what the hell she’s doing. “Yeah . . . you like that, Daddy. Purr. You like this hungry little pussy.” With her blood-red nails, Vicky kneads, strokes, and works my upper thighs, still choking me down her throat. I’m having the worst time concentrating. I’ll be damned. A male’s dick is programmed for this kind of shit, but I’m

over it. Usually Vicky can suck me right, and the fact she doesn’t expect more or get all clingy is the only reason there are repeats. Though, this is becoming a tad boring. I just need to blow my load and cut the cord. Reaching down, I pull her up from her knees by her underarms. I’m rough, firmly grabbing her hips. I spin her around and push her between the shoulder blades onto the cold bathroom counter—facedown, ass up—a woman’s best side. She, on the other hand, thinks she’s driving me to the brink of sexual madness. She twerks on my crotch, and I stand there and let her, watching the display in the mirror. It does nothing for me, but she seems to enjoy herself.

“Ooo, baby, I want you to give it to me rough. Put it anywhere. I’m so turned on right now. I bet my pussy juices are just dripping down my legs.” Mm, I’m not going to lie. The dirty talk makes my dick move just enough that I think he’s back in the game, but not enough. Really, I’m only looking for a quick release to pump-start my night. She needs to shut her yap and get on with it. Reaching over, I pull a hand towel off the wall rack next to us and roll it up into a gag. “Baby, I think I lov—” Gagged. Thank fuck! She was giving me a limp dick. I smack her ass hard several times and grip the base of my cock with one hand, fisting it up and

down, keeping my eyes locked on the potpourri dish. The potpourri you ask? Well, experience has shown you never lock eyes with a woman while you’re screwing: Basic Fucking 101. Make that little mistake and the bitch starts to think you’re bonding and building an intimate connection. Next she’ll want romantic dates, a froufrou marriage proposal that she can brag about on Facebook to her girls, and ultimately lock the dumb fucker down, turning him into a minivandriving chump watching her ass grow. Shit no! So I keep it safe and squeeze the most boring orgasm ever out on to her ugly-ass dolphin tramp stamp. I love jizzing on this dolphin. Makes me feel

like I’m doing something good for mankind, like putting it back in its natural, salty habitat. Next!

Lo Bravely, I look over to see our little dancing trio has disappeared. “You know you did really well today back at the field, and I’m so glad you’re here. We’re gonna make this the best summer before you have to start your first year at UCF,” Maggie says.

I can’t help a big smile from spreading as the thoughts excite me, blooming optimism. I open my mouth to reply but am cut off by a strong deep masculine voice coming straight for us.

“Mags!” A sharp sting runs up my back, straightening my spine, and my eyes pinpoint on the F5 tornado barreling straight towards us. I can’t keep my eyes off him. He’s tall, around 6’1”, with golden skin like a California boy, and built like he’s very good at CrossFit. The short black-brown stubble on his head runs down into a five-o’clock shadow on his face. His trim muscles push at his perfect charcoal gray V-neck tee shirt, and he’s wearing a pair of blue jeans not even Christian Grey could pull off. He’s incredibly attractive. As he gets closer, I try not to stare. After all, he didn’t call my name. What

locks me in are his deep-glacier-blue eyes so sharp and vivid they make me think of electricity or laser beams, outlined with a dark blue rim around each iris. His big knee nearly touches mine as he takes a seat in the recliners to my left, angling his body my way. He smells yummy and I fall perfectly still. Not once does he look at Maggie; this man is intimidating along with his gaze. “Mags, introduce me to your friend here.” “No, I won’t. Go away, Talon.” Before he speaks another word, a bombshell brunette wearing a push-up bra on steroids drapes herself across his lap. Her lush breasts bounce with her movement, and a touch of jealousy hits

me in the chest, but I successfully brush it away. Tits takes a long pull from her joint, scrunching up her pump red lips, holding the smoke in her mouth. Her bronzed hands grip the front of his shirt, and she sweeps her lips close to his. When he makes no attempt to take her gift, Tits cocks her face to the side and releases the smoke from her lungs. “What the fuck, Talon?” she seethes, releasing his shirt and giving him a PMS-type glare. With a pause, her eyes dart back and forth between Maggie and me. “Oh, I get it. You weren’t too good for me a minute ago in the pool house.” A bitch smile spreads across her lips. This girl is really pretty; too bad her attitude makes her so ugly. I wonder

what history these two have. Don Juan over there abruptly stands up, causing Tits to bust her ass on the edge of the coffee table. “Ouch, Talon!” she whines, frowning up at him. She probably just popped an ass implant. With that, Maggie stands, taking me with her. “I see you’re enjoying one of your many usual cocktails, so we’ll leave you to it.” She pulls me towards the back, and just as we’re walking through the double French doors, I glance back to see Talon with his eyes narrowed, staring at me with a sinister grin, paying no attention to the mess that was pawing and clawing at his jeans. The second the cool night air hits me, my head clears. The backyard is big and

appears to have held many crazy parties. The pool lights up the center of the yard. A wild bonfire sits off to the left, surrounded by chairs and benches, and the infamous pool house is far out to the back. We spot Sasha and a few others by the fire and go to join them. “So this is the new piece of ass I’ve been hearing about,” a fairly goodlooking guy says when we sit down. The fire makes his tan skin and messy brown hair look like he’s up to no good. “Shut up, Stone.” Maggie says. A line forms between my brows. I’d always been a polite person, but the men here are huge horn balls off their leashes. “You must never get laid using that line.”

A smile slowly grows across Stone’s face. “So you’re saying you’re not gonna have sex with me tonight?” Is this guy that dense?

Maggie shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “I’m pretty sure you can count us all out if the sex involves you, Stone.” He drops his tone slightly, leaning into Maggie. “Oh please, baby, if I recall, I gave you multiple orgasms so good your little toesies spread out like shooting stars.” Nothing can shake Maggie; she appears unfazed. “Yeah, well, the only thing you gave me was a yeast infection. So thanks!” Everybody starts laughing. The conversation turns easy like we were

four old friends. Stone turns out to be pretty cool and funny, but somehow we get on the subject of racing. “But isn’t street racing illegal?” Stone gapes at me like I’m nuts. “Hell yeah, it is, but that doesn’t stop us. Plus, it kind of helps that Talon’s older brother is a police officer and tips us off if he catches wind that they’re going to bust us.” “Do you always race at Wrecker’s Field?” I ask, feeling like my questions were stupid. “Most of the time, yes, but there are other spots we like to use as well. Keeps the cops confused.” Like a glacial breeze, chills spread down my neck and arms in an avalanche

of warm fingertips, pushing my hair off to one side and giving the hairs at the nape of my neck a gentle pull. The tug makes me peek up, putting Talon in direct sight. Sweet shivers spiral down me. Good thing I’m sitting down because his strong carven face has knocked me on my ass. His eyes hold a lustful glint, making it difficult to break eye contact. I could have sworn my panties tapped on my leg to get my attention and handed me my V-card to give up. His boldness makes me nervous, and I suddenly feel passive and shy. I hate feeling so inexperienced. Very slowly, Talon lets my hair slide through his fingers and takes the only seat available, directly across the fire from me.

I sit quietly, listening to the conversation bounce around. No way am I putting in my two cents. I don’t want any extra attention than what I’m already getting. Talon never stops staring. It’s unnerving to the point I have to focus on not looking in his direction. The heat of the fire alone makes me uncomfortably fidget. When I can’t take it any longer, I catch Maggie’s attention and give her the hey-let’s-go tip of the head. Maggie catches my cue, giving me a slight nod and gracefully standing up. “Okay, ladies and germs, it’s getting late, and I’m sure Lo here would love to get home and rest after this long day.” Getting up, both Maggie and I shimmy past everyone, saying our good-byes.

When I pass Talon, he stands and moves uncomfortably close, barely holding my waist to help me pass safely around the fire. “Careful there, beautiful.” He holds me with an allusive smile. Holy shit, he’s touching me. His firm chest lines up at the perfect height to my face. Damn me to hell, but I do it. I close my eyes and breathe him in. A mixture of mint and something unique floods my nostrils, inducing a pleasing ache deep between my legs. The grip of a petite hand pulling on my upper arm has me snapping out of my trance. Maggie throws a sarcastic “Good night, Talon” from her mouth and tows me through the house and out to the car,

as my love-drunk legs stumble to keep up.

Chapter 4 Talon Lo. So that’s the best friend Maggie warned me off of and with good reason too. She appeals to me like a ’67 vintage Mustang: simple classic beauty.

After Lo and Maggie left last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Maybe it was the fact I was told no. I would devour her. She was so petite and so pure-

looking. I should leave her alone, but the asshole in me wants to taint her, play with her mind a little bit. My cock and I are getting excited just thinking about it. It’s simple. I want her bad. Even when I pulled Leah into the pool house and fucked her fake-ass tits, imagining it was Lo as I jizzed all over her face, it still didn’t lessen the ache. Seeing her had awakened the sleeping giant in me. She sparked a craving deep inside for something I didn’t know I was missing. I just need a taste: a rare taste of purity. The next morning that annoying ache is back. I am sure it stems from the need to bang her. Stripping down, I slip into the shower and envision her delicate

pink lips and sexy-ass curves that naturally sway when she walks. My dick grows to a point it hurts. With a solid grip, I pump it several times, thinking about my blond-haired beauty, imagining coming hard inside of her. My? Well, not yet. I’ve wanted to conquer girls before but never to this extreme. I chuckle to myself, feeling like a psycho off his meds, knowing I’m going to have to take care of this little problem: bend her over, get her out of my system, and go back to functioning as a normal human being. Have you ever tried to walk with a boner? That shit is uncomfortable. With the ache muted, I make my way into the kitchen and notice Stone already sitting at the island, eating his cereal.

We’ve been roommates in this house for nearly five years. His parents own this beauty but felt they weren’t keeping up with the Joneses since his mom runs in several high-class social circles, so they upgraded, giving us the option to take over the mortgage. The relationship between Stone and his family has always been at a disconnect. No love or emotion exists between them; they use their money to show their feelings. Hearing me enter, Stone looks up from messing with his phone. “Morning, Prince Charming.” I flash him a blow-me smirk and shuffle my way to the coffee pot. “So . . . nice run last night, how much did you make?”

Picking up my mug of joe and snatching my phone from its charger, I sit in the seat next to him. “Fifteen hundred bucks.” He slowly whistles. “You really cleaned up on that new kid. He acted like he had a bomb hidden under his hood.” Smiling, I nodded, remembering that cocky son of a bitch. “Dude, Maggie’s best friend is fucking hot and totally blew you off last night.” Now that wiped the smile off my face. “She didn’t say one word to you, man.” “Piss off, Stone,” I growl. I got

nothing. I have no idea why things didn’t go my way last night; the thought makes me cranky. All the signs were there. I’ve gotten into girls panties easier, doing a lot less. I clearly could see the attraction to me in her eyes and the telltale signs that I make her nervous when I’m around. That blond hair that I gripped between my fingers was soft as pure silk, and I felt the goose bumps dance across her skin under my knuckles. Mm, I squeeze my hands into fists, anxious to get them on her again. I bet she’s soft like that everywhere, and with that shyass temperament, I can do all the taking. Submit, bitch. With that thought, my dick has an uplifting moment. “No, man, really, she was laughing

and cutting up with all of us until Maggie majorly cock-blocked. But it’s probably for the best; you don’t want to bang her and have a clinger you can’t get rid of. Not only that, she looks too young. I bet she’s still a virgin.” What? My eyes snap up to his face. He isn’t even looking at me. His head is halfway in his cereal bowl as he sucks down the last bit of his milk. Did she say last night that she’s a virgin and I missed it? No way, that’s not possible. If she is, my ass is out. Virgins are messy. They want you to earn it or be gentle, and I sure as fuck don’t like it gentle. “Now you’re just talking out of your ass,” I say, hoping to poke the lion a little, get a little more out of him. But

he just shrugs. Nothing. I lean back in my chair and think about his last comment, staring down into my coffee, feeling the steam hit my face while Stone laughs at stupid YouTube videos. Then out of nowhere, he says, “The good news is, bro, Maggie is in our circle and she’s best friends with your hot piece of ass, so you know she’ll be coming around a lot more.” He’s right. I’ve already spent too much of my time thinking about this. Sliding off my seat, I leave my cup on the counter. I need a way to relieve this newly developed tension I’m feeling. Vicky antics are old, and if I stick with my other method, I’m going to develop

chapped dick. “I’m heading to the gym; you wanna go?” “Nah, I’m gonna sit here and recuperate from last night. At the party, I honed in on a sexy little up-and-coming freshman. You better believe I twisted her into a pretzel and salted that ass.” I give him a quick nod and make my way to my room, taking the stairs two at a time.

The gym is fairly quiet for a Saturday morning. Usually the stay-at-home moms attend stepclass, or the old fuckers clog up the treadmills. Not many young people come this early. I suppose they’re probably nursing their hangovers or doing that awkward walk of

shame. For me, it’s about coming early to avoid seeing the meatheads flexing in the mirror or bumping into one of my quick fucks whose name I don’t remember. After scanning my membership card, I try to sneak past the front desk, knowing Stacy, one of those quick fucks, is there. Let’s get one thing straight. The only reason why I remember her name is she hunts me down every time I’m in here and that little name badge is positioned perfectly on her left tit. I can’t miss it.

I’m not fast enough, and I see Stacy coming from the corner of my eye as I close the tiny locker that holds my keys. “Hey sexy, you like, walked right by and didn’t say hi. Did you not see me?” she says, obnoxiously dragging her pink nails up and down my bicep. A repulsive tremor shakes me, and I take a step back so her MRSA-infected

fingernails fall off me. “Yeah, I’m kind of strapped for time today. I promised to take Grammy out to dinner for her seventy-fifth birthday tonight, so I’m just trying to get in and out.” Lies. “Aw, you are like, sooo sweet! Well, if things, like, fall through with Grammy or, like, you want company, call me. You have my number.” Before spinning around, she blows me a kiss, which I dodge. I don’t even want those. I’m one hundred-percent sure I don’t have her number. The only numbers I keep are for my prime pussy, my allstars, an elite few that would drop everything and come running, and even those are few and far between. The weight area is empty, so I start

there, picking up a set of fifty-pound hand bells and doing my usual curls, presses, and squats. I love the burning in my muscles; it wakes me up and puts me in a good mood. Continuing along through my usual rotation, I move to an ab machine that faces out to the rest of the gym and take a seat. I’m about to start a rep when I see my blond cutie running on the treadmill in front of me. Well, I’ll be damned. My smile grows deeper, and I take sixty seconds to absorb everything about her. I notice her narrow waist, her small perky tits bouncing in that royal blue tank top with every step, the way her ass fills those white spandex shorts just right, accentuating those tone tan legs, and not

a sliver of makeup. Man . . . she’s a goddess. My legs work before my mind, and I can’t stop myself, making my way over to her treadmill. As soon as she sees me, a hint of disgust flickers across her face, and she reaches down and slows the belt to a walking pace. Leaning on the front right corner of her machine, I stick my hand out for a shake, shooting her a smooth smile. “Hi, I’m Talon. Nice to see you again. We really didn’t get a proper introduction yesterday.” Reluctantly, she pops out one of her ear buds and places her hand in mine. “Lo.” Her hand is tiny and her skin is so soft. For a moment, I lose track of what

I’m going to say, but then I get my shit together. “Well, Lo, why don’t we—?” Abruptly, she holds a hand up, cutting me off. “Whoa, let me stop you right there. Whatever it is you’re about to offer, I’m not interested. So save it for somebody else.” Scooping up her towel and water bottle, she steps off her machine, grabs her keys out of the tiny locker, and makes her way out the door to the parking lot as I watch mystified. What the hell just happened? A smile grows across my face, and all kinds of ways to play this swirl in my mind. She just made this a challenge. If I wasn’t interested before, I’m certainly interested now. Here comes my A-game,

tighten up and focus. Eventually, I get them all. I just have to take it one step at a time, and in the end, I’ll have my little trophy. If this girl wants to brawl, call me fuckin Mike Tyson, beyotch!”

Over the next week, we turn into Tom and Jerry or to be more accurate, the road runner and coyote. I figure out Lo’s favorite time to work out is in the early morning, making it my new favorite time as well.

Walking through the doors on Monday at 8:20 a.m., I spot Lo over by the free weights. Her hair is French braided down her back, and she’s wearing a neon green tank top with tight black exercise pants. Good Lord, that

ass! I noticed it the first night. Luckiest fucking pants ever. She’s focused. Her eyes are zeroed in on her biceps as she completes a curl. As I get closer, my movement catches her attention in the mirror, and her eyes widen fractionally. She doesn’t miss a beat, squaring her shoulders and quickly schooling her features. Huh. I give her one of my award-winning smiles, and that’s when she rolls her eyes, forcibly re-racks her weights, and snatches her towel from the floor. Without a second glance, she makes a beeline to the women’s locker room. This is not the usual reaction I get with women. She acts like I’m shit on the wall, and I haven’t even done

anything to piss her off yet. But she isn’t fooling me. She’s hot for me, who isn’t? Wednesday I get there early. I watch Lo come into the gym, first scanning the large room. Her hair is piled up on top of her head in one of those wild buns. Her raggedy oversized T-shirt and baggy faded sweatpants hang off her body. Like a disguise is going to throw me. A bear could maul her and she would still ooze sex appeal. The thing is I’ve already seen that shapely little figure she’s hiding, and her hobo look makes me laugh. After deeming it clear, she noticeably relaxes and hops onto the treadmill to warm up. I give her a good twenty minutes before I launch my

surprise attack. At this point, she’s worked up to a brisk run, with reddened cheeks, perspiration peppering her creamy skin, and labored breathing. It’s go time. Stealth-like, I slide onto the machine next to hers, setting it to a slow pace walk. At first, she doesn’t notice me, but then she misses a step and catches herself, acting like it never happened. She never looks my way, only sneaks sly peeks from the corner of her eye. After five minutes and many, many glances, I reach over and flip her machine to a slower pace. Well, that gets her attention. Pissed off, she glares at me. Her chest rises and falls with each rapid breath. A weird ache creeps up in my

sternum, and for a minute, her beauty makes me forget why I’m putting forth all this effort. “Take your ear buds out,” I say, motioning with my hand. What? I can’t hear you. She mouths, feigning ignorance while pointing to the side of her head. I reach over to pull the mini speaker from her ear, but she hastily swats my hand away and smiles. My, my, she’s feisty. I match her smile with a smile of my own. She’s not getting rid of me that easily. I’m staying put. We hit the hour mark, and faster than I can stop her, she e-brakes her belt and leaves without a word. This shit is getting old. But little does she know Momma didn’t raise no quitter.

It’s Thursday, and she’s not getting away so easily. I spot her working on a set of machines, talking casually to two other chicks. Perfect, she’s trapped. I’m good with women. I’ll flash them my panty-dropping smile, engage all three of them in conversation, and then steal Lo away. As I’m approaching, I see Lo lean over and whisper something to the girls that they find interesting. All three ladies look my way, and I slow and cock a brow. The two I don’t know both have huge grins on their faces, giggling like little school girls. Lo saunters up to me and places one hand on the center of my chest, halting my movements, and my heart kicks up, which I’m sure she can

feel. I instinctively cup a hand around her delicate waist. Stretching up onto her tippy toes, she brings her lips so close to my ear they graze the lobe, and I can’t help the lungful of air I drag in. “They’re ready for you; go get ’em, tiger.” And just like that, she slips from my grip. I immediately miss the feeling of her body in my hand, and her scent still lingers in a cloud around me, making me dizzy. Before I know it, the short auburnhaired one approaches, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. “So, your sister was telling us you’re dying to find that right girl but have a hard time getting dates.” Her voice has a high-pitched twang to it, and her eyes shift down to my crotch then pop back up to my face.

“Baby, I won’t judge.” She playfully bites her fingernail from the corner of her mouth, trying to lure my attention there. Nice try, Red, your mouth is not the one I want. “Ya see I have a lot of scar tissue down there from the recent birth of my twins. I’m a sensitive girl and I don’t need much,” she says, giving me a gummy smile and batting her eyelashes with hope. Fuck me. Well played, Lo. Well played. Friday is here and I’m exhausted. I’ve jacked off more times than I can count. Even a warm breeze gets me hard. I’m at the point where I’m going to go in there, throw her over my shoulder, and haul her ass back to the pool house,

kicking and screaming. Scanning my gym pass, I immediately spot Lo’s blond hair swinging from an elliptical machine. Stacy calls out to get my attention, but I ignore her and keep walking. This shit ends now! Marching over, I plant myself in front of Lo’s machine, where she can’t miss me. The most beautiful smile develops when her eyes connect with mine. “What? No land mines or flocks of teenage girls today?” I say with a serious face, fighting hard to hold in my smile. Damn her and her contagious smile. She drops her head and turns it slightly to the side, giggling. Ah, how

beautiful. Her sound alone produces this weird warm sensation that breaks open in my chest and spreads down my arms. I’m starting to really like this girl; she makes my life interesting. I want more time with her. “Would you mind giving me a spot?” I say, thumbing towards the bench press. “It’s the least you can do.” Hopefully, I’m making her feel guilty. Guilt is a powerful tool. Her eyes dart in that direction and then back to me with an untrusting expression. Without a word, she gracefully hops off her machine, tightens her ponytail, and follows me to that area. I have the largest shit-eating grin on my face and better wipe it off before I turn around.

Lying down on the bench, I’m about to take the bar when I notice her start to fidget. Her eyes sweep across the few tattoos peeking out of my shirt, and I get the feeling I’m not the usual guy she brings home to Daddy Dearest. I don’t have a lot of ink, but even just one tattoo can make a father want to get his shotgun out. She picks at her nails like she’s contemplating something and refocuses on my eyes. “I know why you’re bugging me, so let’s get one thing straight.” I know what she’s about to say, so I sit up and jerk the conversation in an odd direction. “Do you like fireworks?” She scrunches up her forehead and stares at me, confused. “What? Yes. Stop trying to distract me. I’ve been well

informed of your reputation—” I pull her gym towel from her hand she’s fidgeting with. “What about BBQ?” “Huh?” Lo says, snatching back her towel. “Yes, who doesn’t? No amount of weaseling will—” “How about relaxing by a lake?” She lets out a big sigh, agitated with my randomness. “Yes, I love the Fourth of July if that’s what you’re asking. What’s that got to do with anything?” “Great, I’ll pick you up at seven. Be ready.” Her eyes follow mine as I stand up. “What? No. I didn’t agree to anything.” “You don’t have to. Someone is

spreading nasty rumors about me, and it’s imperative that I clear my name. Show you what a nice guy I am.” Which I’m not. “Pft,” Is what I get with an eye roll. She’s smarter than I thought. “I’m going to be hungry tonight, and you’re going to be hungry tonight, so why not?” “I don’t know.” She crosses her arms over her chest, shaking her head. Does little Miss Lo not trust herself with me? I almost feel guilty laying my act on so thick, but it’s breaking her down. “Come on. You’ve got to eat, right?” She sighs again, dashing her eyes all over the gym, and she whispers to

herself. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Boom! And the winner with a knockout is . . . Don’t smile. She’ll see you. She pouts back at me and points a finger. “Fine, but if you cop a feel, you’re going to lose an appendage.” I hold a hand out to shake. “Deal.” Her mouth stays closed and she doesn’t shake. She just nods, giving me a wary eye. “I know where Maggie lives. I’ll see you tonight.” “Okay.” I watch that perfect ass walk away when suddenly she turns around, almost catching me. “Oh, and, Talon, one, this is not a date, and two, if you’re later than

seven, don’t bother knocking on my door.” Believing all that nonsense she just spewed, she turns and leaves. Sweet Jesus, how am I ever gonna be able to keep my hands to myself tonight. That ass!

Chapter 5 Lo When I arrive home, I’m a bit nervous to tell Maggie that Talon is taking me out. Just the thought makes my heart take off into a sprint. I find her in our living room on the love seat, tissues in hand, crying over her Kindle.

“What are you reading?” “Rock Bottom by RK Lilley.” Sniffle. “This book is some intense shit! I swear if mean Dean gets away with . .

.” She stops, rubbing her eyes and shaking her head. “Never mind, just read the series.” She sets the Kindle down and blows her nose. Maybe telling her now isn’t the best time. Slowly backing away, I turn and make my way to the shower. As I wait for the water to heat up, I stand back and study myself in the mirror. He asked me out—okay not directly but in a roundabout way. Stepping under the hot stream, I can’t stop thinking about Talon Baylor: his laser beam eyes, perfect arms, big hands. Oh, he’s cute. He’s also probably an asshole. Water rushes around my face and down my body as a small tingle heats up

my core. My eyes slide closed, and my tiny hand slowly drifts for its target. At first touch, I pull back. It’s that sensitive. I caress the little bud of nerves until my heart and breathing are racing. Pleasure builds and I imagine Talon’s thick arm wrapped around me from behind with one hand kneading my breasts and his other teasing my clit in small slow circles. It doesn’t take long, and like a sheet of ice, I shatter into a million tiny slivers. The beauty of my release calms me like nothing else. Shuttering, I brace an arm on the shower wall and hold myself up, easing out of my euphoria. I finish up in the bathroom, wrapping a towel around my torso and finger through my wet hair as I pad back to my

bedroom. Before sliding on fresh panties, I drop the towel on the floor. I give myself a minute to relax then start to clean up my room: flip-flops, dirty cups, wet towel. Just as I’m lifting the towel up, I see my old sweaty gym gear hiding underneath, and suddenly, I get jittery from a little surge of adrenaline. What am I doing going out with Talon? He’s not normal or safe. It’s too soon. Plus, I watched his eyes wander each time a female ass passed us in the gym. Did I really say “yes”? Gah, I’m disgusted with myself. He’s just the type that stripped me of my life once before. Fate is a bitch, and sadly I’m not someone who goes back on her word.

Not that I could, I don’t even have his number. Okay, so I’ll go, maybe have a good time, get a free meal, but at the end of the day, it has to be clear that this little ride is going down a dead-end street. After several mental kicks in the ass, I manage to get myself together. I blow my hair out straight and stare at my closet full of clothes for the next ten minutes. What should I wear? I don’t want to look like a slob, but I can’t look like I put too much effort into it for him either. So I end up going with a leather braided bracelet, a small charm necklace, and a loose gray shirt that hangs off one shoulder. My skinny jeans are dark washed, and I pair them with

my new low-cut white chucks. Just as I’m recapping my lip gloss, the doorbell rings, bringing my attention away from my vanity mirror. Getting up, I adjust my outfit one last time in my body mirror and make my way down the hall and through the living room where Maggie is still wrapped up in her story. As I enter, she peers up with red swollen eyes. “Where are you going looking all cute?” I give her the one-minute finger and go to answer the door. It’s 7:02 p.m. Strike one. Should I let him in? Or let him sweat it out? On my tippy toes, I squint through the peep hole and see nothing but a dark black buzzed head. He must be looking down. My nerves have

my palms all sweaty. I wipe my hands on my jeans and pull the door wide open. Talon’s head drifts up, and the first things to hit me are those electric eyes. I’ve been struck, briefly messing up the conductive activity in my heart, causing it to convulse just behind my rib cage. He looks amazing, rocking a black Henley, the sleeves pushed up a quarter of the way, and pairing it with gray shorts and black low cut chucks just like mine. His eyes slowly peruse my body, taking in every inch until they land on mine, and suddenly I’m so nervous I don’t know what to do with my hands. An enticing smile appears at the same time as he steps forward, shoving his

hands in his pockets. Oh my, those are some thick arms. Talon intentionally steps into my personal space, attempting to climb the safety barrier I’ve erected. “You look nice.” We share a smile, mine shakier than his. “Don’t be nervous.” But I am. Not noticing, I crack all my knuckles. He raises an eyebrow and rubs a couple fingers over his lips. That makes my eyes hone in on the plumpness of his lips, and I question what a soft kiss would taste like. Oh my gosh, do you think he’ll try to kiss me tonight? I stare at him, getting lost in the way he smells and his perfect forearms. “Lo?” My hearing tunes back in to his

voice. “Huh?” “I said are you ready to go?” “Oh.” I blink to clear my vision then nod, getting myself in gear. I shout a good-bye to Maggie, grab my clutch off the hall table, and shut the door, locking it behind me. This isn’t a date. We’re just friends. We reach the truck, and he opens the passenger-side door, holding out his hand, willing me to get in, but I stop and stare in shock. Based on all the gossip I’d heard about him, I didn’t expect this. “Wow, chivalry isn’t dead. Maybe a gentleman lurks inside you after all.” “See. I told you I was a nice guy.” He cocks his head in the cutest way, smiles, and winks, closing my door with

a thump. As he gets into the driver’s seat, I turn to him. “So, where do you want to go?” “I’m not picky; the back seat would work just fine for me.” He’s completely serious, continuing to click in his belt and start the engine. “But . . . since I promised I’d be a gentleman, you’re just going to have to trust me.” I think I just swallowed my tongue. I turn away and keep my lips sealed for all of ten minutes until he starts in on safe conversation with the light hum of the radio. He has me laughing, and after another ten minutes, we’re pulling up to a roadside food truck selling chicken and ribs.

Talon calls the Bob Marley lookalike at the order window by name as if they’re old friends, asking how his wife and kids are. “All the babies are great, Tal, but Josie isn’t doing well,” Bob Marley says. He has an island accent, and his face appears tired and worn. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help, and send my love to Josie.” “Bless you, Talon. I always appreciate your kindness.” Smiling at me, he says, “You’re one lucky girl, and you guys make a beautiful couple. May you be blessed with many babies.” My eyes shoot to the size of saucers,

and before I can correct him, Talon grabs our food and gives him a “Thanks, Winston.” We sit at an empty picnic table nestled under a large tree. The shaded breeze feels nice as it’s a perfect evening to eat outside. “Seems Winston is really fond of you. Why did you bring me here?” I say, organizing my food. He rips a piece of chicken off and pops it in his mouth, giving me a sideways glance. “Because I distinctly remember you saying you liked BBQ.” “Really? It’s not because Winston gives you the food for free?” He laughs with his hand over his mouth. “Damn, caught. No, but as God is my witness, Winston really does have

the best BBQ around. No lie.” Talon continues to chew through a smile. “I’m really glad I met you, Lo. You’re not afraid to bust my balls. I don’t get that very often.” I shrug. “Well, the jury is still out on you.” “Fair enough.” “So are you in college?” I ask. “Nah, college really isn’t my thing.” “What is your thing, then?” “Racing.” His eyes light up. “I’m good at it. It’s the one place I can think clearly—where I leave all my shitty problems in a trail of burnt rubber. No one can take that from me.” He looks down, but I can still see his smile. “And it pays the bills. What about you?”

I fiddle with my drink straw, not knowing what to say. I hated taking piano, and dance was fun but filled with snooty dance moms. Everything was a competition with them. I was kept in a perfect bubble, and then one day that bubble popped. Thank God for Maggie. “I don’t know. I’m just easy.” He stops mid-chew. “Give me a few good friends and I’m good.” He nods like he understands. “You and I could be good friends. You wanna try? Look how nice this dinner has turned out, friend.” That smile makes him seem even more beautiful than before. How can I be friends with a face like that? I can already see how this will end before it

even begins, but I seem to have a soft spot for him in my heart. “Do you have many male friends?” he asks. I shake my head no. “Good! Then it’s done. I’m volunteering to be your first official male friend since you moved here.” I huff. “You’re too kind,” I say. “And I’m okay with being friends, but that’s as far as this goes.” He seems pleased with a satisfying smile on his face. “One day you’ll regret that decision, but, for now, your virtue is safe with me. Or should I say from me?” He leans in, elbows resting on the table, eyes amused. He watches me. I softly scratch my neck, completely out of my

element. “What?” I ask. He pauses. “Nothing.” Kindly, Talon reaches over and grabs my near empty tray. “Let’s head out.” I jump up like the bench is on fire— or maybe it’s my nerves—and get into the cabin of the truck that smells of just him and me. “Thank you for dinner,” I say. “You’re very welcome.” He pulls the truck back out onto the main road. This wasn’t so bad. Now that we’ve got that settled, he can take me home and forget about this lost cause. I’m boring, not a bad-girl bone in this body. My head turns in the passing direction when we blow by the street I live on. “Hey,

wasn’t that my—?” I point. “Yep.” “Well, aren’t you going to—?” “Nope.” Great. I sigh and quietly rest my hands in my lap, peering out the window. Fifteen minutes later, in pretty bright lights, the words “The Disney BoardWalk” come into view. Talon pulls up to a guard shack, where a man wearing a cute security hat greets us. “Welcome to the Disney BoardWalk, checking in?” Talon flashes his license, and the security guard waves us in. “Have a great stay.” “Have a great stay? Come here much?” I ask in an accusatory tone. He laughs softly, and reaching over,

places his large hand on my knee and gives it a couple of light squeezes. “Stick with me and I’ll teach you a thing or two.” I don’t doubt that. We park the truck, and Talon leads me down a path that’s barely lit. There are no people behind the hotel. This doesn’t feel right. Where is he taking me? “Talon, I don’t think were supposed to be back here.” “Just trust me.” With a few more steps, we emerge right in the middle of tons of excitement. A wave of relief washes over me as I take in all the colorful bright lights blazing against the dark night from every building. The scene is overwhelming. There are boardwalk performers, kids

playing fair games, savory smells seeping from restaurants, and boats motoring back and forth across a lake that houses a large lighthouse in the center. Smiling, Talon reaches down and encloses his hand around mine, leading me through the sea of crazy tourists, keeping me close to his side. My first instinct is to pull away, but I convince myself he’s only doing this so we won’t get separated in the massive crowd. Once the thickness of bodies thins, I break my grip on his hand, making him look down at me. We enter a soda shop, and my mouth waters at the scent of simmering burgers and freshly pressed waffle cones. This place is hopping. The floors are

checkered in black and white, and an antique jukebox is pumping out the oldies. We both order ice cream in waffle cones to go, and my eyes bulge at the colossal mound of sugary cream he hands me. I’m never going to finish this. Talon gets strawberry and I choose chocolate. Sliding my tongue against the creamy deliciousness, I start to feel like a kid again. Chocolate makes me happy. “This is absolutely the best ice cream that has ever touched my lips,” I say while walking back to the boardwalk, Talon by my side. Something flares across his face, and I’ve got his full attention on my lips. “Well, you’re a hard girl to impress.” “You don’t need to impress me; just

be real.” He has nothing to say to that. We stroll side by side down to the beach area where ducks were splashing and waddling about. We take a seat in a double lounger off to the side, away from the families, keeping a respectable amount of space between us so as not to touch. The disappearance of the sun tells me it’s getting late. Only the light of the moon and the twinkling of the boardwalk lights are casting a glow bright enough for us to see. Resting back, I relax. Life has been so serious lately; it feels great to let loose. I haven’t done that since my days with Heath; though Talon is quickly writing over those memories. Talon leans over and nudges my shoulder with his. “Did you know

Donald Duck has a middle name?” I look at the side of his face as he watches the ducks. “It’s Fauntleroy.” “No, you lie.” He turns to me. “No really.” He pauses. “Did you know ducks have three eyelids?” “Why?” He shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t know; go ask one.” I softly laugh, questioning if this is him loosening up. “Did you know they don’t mate for life?” My smile slides to neutral. “That’s sad.” He pulls his eyebrows together and turns back toward the ducks. “Nah, they

got the right idea.” Popping the last bit of my cone in my mouth, I groan, stuffed. “After all this fabulous food, I’m going to have to hit the gym tomorrow.” “Well, just so you know, I’m making you my honorary spotter, so I’ll be coming by to pick you up every time I go.” I let my fingers brush across the soft sand, smiling like a school girl. “You’re a big boy; you can go by yourself.” “No way, safety first.” Talon smiles innocently and my heart unexplainably swells. Though I push those feelings away, knowing I mustn’t get attached. “So why’d you move to Florida? Your parents split?”

“No . . . they’re very much together. What about you?” “Me? I was born here, and raised was a term that was used very loosely in our house. It was more like every man for himself—a free for all.” “Wow, I would have loved to have that.” “No, you wouldn’t.” He sneered. “Yes, I would. Everything was always a schedule for me—church on Sunday, piano lessons on Tuesday, family night on Fridays—and the time in between I spent studying.” “Didn’t you ever want to just say fuck it?” “Every day. You sound like quite the rebel. What? Did your parents try to

send you to military camp or something?” “Nah, I don’t want to talk about them.” Just then, rapid booms thunder to our left, saving him from me probing further and sending me across the lounger into his arms. “Sorry,” I say, as I try to move away. Warm chuckles and solid arms keep me from pulling away. “It’s fine. What are friends for?” He stares down at me and smiles, not all seductive like before, but friendly and meaningful. So far Talon has been a complete gentleman and seems sincere. It throws me. If he’s so bent on getting into my panties, I’m sure he would have

tried by now. I’m sure it’s not his style to invest a whole night with a chick when it’s guaranteed he won’t get laid. I wonder if all the rumors are even true. Easily, we watch the spectacle of lights, beautiful designs of blues, greens, and reds glittering in the night sky. We stay dazed in that position, smiling upward until it all goes still and dark. How perfect. “Ready to go?” Talon stands. I nod, taking the hand he offers up. From behind, he cuffs his arm around my waist and smoothly swings me out of the sand. It surprises me when he kneels down and gently brushes the tiny crystals from my feet, tickling a laugh from my lips as people walk around us. My happy sound

makes Talon glance up with warmth in his eyes and a smile on his face. Who is this guy and what’s with this place? All the magic in the air must turn all the frogs into Prince Charmings. We stroll side by side back to his truck where he drives slowly to my condo. I’m sad to have the night end. Whether I like to admit it or not, he’s growing on me. All his mannerisms ooze comfort and friendship—two out of the three feelings I feel tonight—but my running mantra reminds me that this isn’t the real Talon. I know this. He’s upping the charm for his one true goal, and no matter how much pixie dust he sprinkles on me, it will never happen. The air-conditioned hall in my condo

does nothing for our heated silence. I reach into my clutch, fumbling for my keys, and when I finally peer up at him, his expression makes me all breathy. “I had a really am-amazing time.” Swallowing, I look down, clutching the keys tighter to keep them from rattling in my shaky hands. I take a deep breath and glance back up finding a calling look I can’t shake studying me. My heart starts kicking at my ribs when he softly cups my cheek and strokes the edge of my lower lip with his thumb. Friends don’t touch like this. Maggie’s touches don’t feel like this. We’re friends. His whole hand covers so much of my face that it’s burning. My hip starts burning when his finger

hooks in the waistband of my jeans and drags me flush to him. I’m going to pass out. He is danger and this can’t end well. Dropping his head, he slowly trails his cheek along my jawline to my ear and growls. “Lo?” With the heat of his voice, a tiny spark ricochets down me, searing every inch. His breath acts like a poisonous vapor clouding my mind, so when his fingers palm my neck, I look up willingly. Way up, he’s big to my little. He’s studying my mouth, and that sexy tongue strokes across his parted lips, wetting them. “Please don’t hate me in the morning,” he whispers, inching his face closer and closer. Hate him? The only thing I’ll hate is

admitting how much I want to kiss him. I can almost taste him, locked in his spell. I can practically feel his lips on mine, inching closer, a breath away from sweet unity, when suddenly the apartment door swings open and Maggie appears. “My, my, look who’s home. I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.” I flush and step away, dislodging his hands. Talon runs a hand over his short hair and blows out a tense breath. “Hi, Mags.” We’d been caught; thank God Maggie stopped us. “Lo, do you mind giving me a minute to talk to Talon?” In that moment, I revert back to feeling like a teenage girl being caught

making out by her parents. “Sure” Then I look to Talon. “Thanks again for everything. Good night.” I give him a shy smile and a small wave. “Good night, Lo.” When I shut the door behind me, I notice muffled voices. Don’t judge me. I do what any normal person would do. I press my ear to the door. Maggie: “Muffle . . . told you before Lo . . . muffle muffle . . . off limits to you. So keep . . . muffle . . . grubby overused man . . . muffle . . . penis in its cage.” Talon: “Muffle, muffle, muffle . . . she looks like that.” Maggie: “Please, Talon, don’t fuck . . . muffle . . . up. I happen to . . . muffle . .

. people we hang with. And Lo deserves . . . muffle . . . more. You can’t . . . muffle, muffle . . . she’s been through.” Talon: “Come on, Mags. You know me. Muffle, muffle, muffle . . . fuck her.” Maggie: “She’d nev . . . muffle . . . give it up to you anyway. I’ll bet my left ovary on that one.” All of a sudden, a high-pitched whistle has me jumping out of my skin. Pushing off from the door, I run down the hall, slipping on the rug, through the living room, and into the kitchen, gently removing the kettle from the stove. The faint sound of the front door closing and the chain lock engaging has me breaking out in a nervous sweat. A talk is unavoidable. I know this, so I take a seat

on the sofa and wait for Maggie to join me. Diddy prances up to me, curling his furry body against my thigh. I know I’m about to get an earful, so I stroke his back, eliciting a pleasant purr. Just as I gave her earlier, Maggie gives me the one-minute finger and enters the kitchen. After a few minutes, she comes back, carrying two steaming cups of tea, handing one to me, and taking a seat on the end of the couch. Slowly, I breathe in the vapors, collecting my thoughts. After a few long minutes, Maggie breaks the silence. “You know you scared the shit out of me tonight. I didn’t know if you were pissed for some reason or got abducted by our neighbor, Creepy Carl.” I let go a light laugh, drawing my

knees up onto the couch and snuggling the warm cup of tea against my chest. Maggie continues to stare from across the couch. “I don’t know why I’m asking because I can already see the dreamy look on your face, but how was your date?” I shake my head at my tea. “It wasn’t a date.” Sighing, I glance up. “But if he makes other girls feel what I felt tonight, I can see why he’s so successful with the ladies. Maggie’s mouth hangs open in shock. “You little slut!” “No, no, no, we did not. He didn’t even try.” “Phew, that’s a relief. As much as I enjoy guarding your love tunnel, I’m

glad you just didn’t lie down and let him take it.” She leans over and gives me a little nudge with her elbow. “You know, Lo, Talon is a good guy even though he’s got a bad track record. But not letting him lick the kitty is the only way you’re going to maintain respect with him. I’ve seen it with him before.” “Well, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” “Good girl,” she says with a smile, standing and placing her cup on the end table, and taps my knee. “I’m glad you’re home safe and I love you. I’m heading to bed. I have a full day of clients in the morning.” “Love you too.” I watch her slip off to her bedroom.

I’m tired from the day but wound so tight from all my thoughts. Talon makes me feel again, pulling me a little out of my darkness. But he is pure trouble. He is pure man. One look into his eyes and he has me wanting to do things I normally wouldn’t do. He doesn’t do love, commitment, or romance. His only intention is a quick fuck at the end of the night. He’s a taker; he’ll take everything and leave me with nothing. My standards are different. I’ll only settle for a stable, solid relationship based on love. We’ll never work. Sure there’s sexual attraction, but that only

goes so far. With that last sad thought, I force myself to get ready for bed, taking a quick shower. When I come out towel drying my hair, I notice my phone light up with a new text. Dropping my towel, I swipe open the message. (407)555-5347: I must admit . . . best non-date ever! Sleep well, friend.

I smile down at the message, feeling girly and a faint flutter in my tummy. I recall every tender moment, allowing them to saturate my mind and evoke silly feelings. No. No, I don’t like him. I had a horrible time. If I say it enough, maybe I’ll start feeling it. Drawing in a deep

breath, I know what I have to do. I have to shut Talon down. It’s all fun and exciting to own a grenade, but when it explodes, it’s nothing but a disaster. I don’t reply to his text. I plug the phone into its charger and rip down my covers, getting cozy, hoping to fall fast asleep. God help me.

Chapter 6 Lo I wake to knocking on the front door. Too bad for whoever that is or Maggie can answer the door. Snuggling up in just the right spot, I tug the sheets higher around my neck, my eyes drifting closed. After a few more minutes of continuous knocking, the knocking turns to fist-banging. “Go away,” I yell, peeking at the clock. It reads 9:12 a.m. When the fist-banging doesn’t stop, I throw my covers off in a violent rage, pissed, stomping all the way to the front

door and yanking it open. There he stands, Talon, in all his morning glory, smiling, holding two cups of coffee. “Good morning. It’s about time,” Mr. Fucking Sunshine says.

“Argh,” I grumble, slamming the door in his face. My hair is probably a wreck, my breath stinks, and I have to pee. Catching the door with his foot, he follows close behind me to my room, where I toss myself back in bed and throw the covers over my head like Houdini. In a blink of an eye, all the blankets are ripped off, and I’m left exposed and curled up in a ball. “Oh, no, you don’t. Get your lazy ass out of bed. You have duties you must fulfill.” “You’re satanic,” I cry. “And you’re getting up now!” He

grabs my ankle and starts dragging me off the bed. I fight, kicking at his hand. “Okay, okay, you win,” I say when I see I’m not getting anywhere. He lets go, and I slowly mope to my closet, pulling out some running shorts, sports bra, and a tank. Talon watches me with hawk eyes. I glower at him. “Do you mind?” I twirl my finger. “This show isn’t free; turn around.” He laughs and turns around. “You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before, you know. Oh wait. I think I just saw a nip,” he teases, laughing. I’m careful, shielding myself so as not to show him anything he might enjoy. Finishing up, I make a quick pit stop

in the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth, pull my hair into a ponytail, and retrieve my gym bag from Talon’s outstretched hand. “Now get your sweet ass to the truck,” he says, giving my butt a good swat on my way out.

Over the next few weeks, we quickly develop a pattern and go to the gym together every other day. Afterwards, we head to either his place or mine, and he fixes us a light breakfast. Being Talon’s official spotter is pure torture, well except for the view. Talon is a sexy man and obviously knows how to take care of himself. Fortunately for him, all the other women in the vicinity also take notice. I watch the way

women stare, eating him alive with their eyes when he walks by. The bold ones come right up to him, candy coating their voices, bending in the right manner to display a breast or ass cheek, and praying he chooses them. There is never a shortage of women ready and available wherever we go, especially at Wrecker’s. It’s sickening to watch. Sometimes I wonder what I look like acting as his shadow. I must seem pathetic.

Sometimes he’s a little too honest with some of them. I guess he can be that selective when he’s that attractive. If they’re peacocking and he isn’t interested, he not so gently turns them down. I’m not complaining; even I stare a bit too long at the rows of carved muscles just under his smooth skin that tighten and twist with each move. It’s hard not to notice him, and the more we

hang out, the more he appeals to me. Needing a break from his strict routine, I make a beeline to a Zumba class. “Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Talon says, gripping my upper arm, stopping me. “I need a break. I’m going to Zumba.” “No, no, no.” Talon shakes a finger. “As your friend, I’m not going to let you get caught doing that. Zumba is for sissies. Come with me.” I really didn’t have a choice since he still had a firm hold on my arm, pulling me across the gym. For punishment, Talon makes me do fifty burpees, fifty air squats, and run a mile on the

treadmill. As God is my witness, I will never try to go to Zumba again. By the time we finish, my whole body is quivering from fatigue. I can barely walk. Talon helps me off the treadmill, throwing an arm around my waist to support me. “We need to hit the sauna first, and then we’ll head home.” I study him, dissecting his words. “You mean you’ll take me home? I don’t think I can take any more of your torture.” He considers me with a crooked smile. “You’re cute being tortured, so maybe. Go get ready.” The sauna is just what I need. Wrapped in only a towel, half naked, I

feel vulnerable, and the thought of being around him like this sends a thrill down my center. I stumble up to the door and peek in through the tiny window. For a brief moment, I indulge in the sight of a sweaty, shirtless Talon. His head is resting back with his eyes closed. Broad rounded shoulders and thick corded arms lie out on the bench seat above. A half-empty water bottle loosely rests in his hand, and raw well-defined six-pack abs contract and relax with each breath. His skin is flushed and peppered with hundreds of tiny sweat beads, which moisten his forehead, chest, and stomach. One of the solid drops can’t hang on any longer, and it falls, shifting paths, weaving through the dark hairs on

his happy trail, all to get caught in one of the sharp cuts on his hip that descend into his towel. Hmm . . . What do things look like under that towel? I swallow hard, conjuring up even the tiniest drop of saliva ineffectively. Taking a swig of my water, I stroke my tongue and lips around the rim of my water bottle envisioning . . . No, no, no, no, no. What is wrong with me? Now I’m acting all hormonal. I’m no better than any of those other girls hoping for an inch of his attention. Plus, we’re not like that. That’s when Talon notices me through the thick steam and motions with a finger to come to him. My stomach fills with kamikaze pilots and my feet reluctantly move. It’s hard to admit, but

over the past few weeks, I’ve developed feelings for him. Though, I would never act on those feelings. He is charming, funny, and always around. He makes me smile again. My mantra is never date the bad boys, the tattooed, or the assholes, and Talon is all three. When the door opens, the heat hits me in the face, disguising the flush of my cheeks I’d developed gazing at him through the tiny window. As calmly as possible, I take a seat next to him. An odd expression that I can’t read flashes across his face, and he reaches up and rubs a hand over his short hair a couple of times, swallowing hard. “How do you feel?” he asks. “Sore, no thanks to you.”

A satisfying smile slowly spreads across his face. Pointing a finger down to my feet, he gestures. “Give them to me.” I scrutinize his outstretched hand and hesitate. “For fuck’s sake, Lo”—he reaches down and grabs my ankle—“I’m rubbing your feet, not rubbing one out on you.” I suck a quick breath in shock at his abruptness. “Now close your eyes and relax.” “You’re so bossy.” I’m smiling, relaxing back as best I can, with both my arms stretched out on the back ledge. Gently resting my head against the upper bench, I let my eyes close. Starting at the heel, Talon rubs deep in long strokes, using his thumbs to apply

just the right amount of pressure. He slides both of his large thumbs up the center arch, kneading the ball of my foot and toes. I flinch and pull back when he hits a tender spot, but he notices and does this strange circular kneading trick that loosens it all up. He repeats that over and over until I’m so relaxed I’m sleepy mush. “Mm . . . this feels really good.” He pauses for a split second before speaking in a deep raspy voice “Good, huh? We can head home. I would love to give your body the full rubdown. Use me. I’ll do as you wish.” “God, I’d love that.” “So would I.” I can feel myself falling, which is

easy to do with him. Wait! What am I saying? Pushing back the feel-good haze, I sit up. “Talon, you can’t say stuff like that to me.” “What’d I say?” “You spew these sexy remarks without even thinking.” “I’m sorry. My intention isn’t to make you feel uncomfortable. You know I’m not very good at this friends-withgirls shit. I promise from now on I’ll be on my best behavior. Deal?” He sticks out his hand for me to shake. I can’t keep myself from smiling, shaking his hand. He is too irresistible. “Deal. Now take us home and make me one of those awesome greasy breakfast sandwiches so I can put some fat back in

me.” “I’ll give you something fat alright to put in you.” He laughs. “Talon!!!” “Sorry, last time, promise.” His amusement and laughter light up his face. The awkward moment minutes ago quickly passes. We’ll see if Talon will make good on his promise.

An hour and a half later I’m dropped back off at my apartment with a full stomach and a promise to see me tonight at Wrecker’s Field. It’s only 1:00 p.m. I have several hours to kill. Hearing my phone chirp, I check it. Maggie: Be home soon. I’ve got big

news. Lo: K.

After my shower, I’m in our small laundry room, sorting and loading clothes, when Hurricane Maggie comes blowing through the front door. “Hey bestie, did you sleep in this late?” she says, noticing the towel covering my head. “No, I just got back from the gym.” “With Talon?” My simple nod answers for me. “You guys sure do spend a lot of time together.” “Yep, friends do that.” “Weird.” She pauses, thinking that over. Then like the wind, her thought is

gone. “Any who, I forgot to tell you. It must have slipped my mind, but my brother Micah is moving to town. The law firm he wanted to get a job at has hired him on as their newest partner.” “Wow! Congratulations. I haven’t seen him in what . . . three, maybe four years?” She nods. “I told him he can crash with us until he locks down a place of his own. I hope you don’t mind.” “No, of course not, he’s your brother, and it’s not like a completely random guy will be living with us.” “Well, good, thanks for being so cool about it.” I close the washing machine door, add some soap, and push the start button.

Nothing. Huh. I bang the top with my fist a couple times, nothing. Turning, I peer at Maggie. “Have you had any problems with this thing?” Maggie’s mouth pulls up on one side. “Oh yeah, that’s the other thing I forgot to tell you. Washer took a shit. Sorry.” Not appearing sorry at all, she pushes up from the door frame. “I have the repairman coming out in a couple of days.” A couple of days! “What am I going to do till then!” She shrugs her petite shoulder and smiles like the devil. “Maybe you should call your new BFF. I bet he’ll let you use his washing machine.” She taps the heel

of her hand twice on the door frame, turns, and walks away, laughing. “I hate you, you know that,” I yell. “Most girls do.” Sighing didn’t fix my problem, but it felt good. I’m on my last pair of underwear and have no decent clean clothes to wear. Grudgingly, I pull out my phone and shoot Talon a quick text. Lo: Damsel in distress in need of clean clothes. Can I use your washing machine?

A second later, Talon responds. Talon: Well, we can’t have you going naked. You’d scare all the boys away. Lo: Ha, ha, wise ass, now there’s a thought. Maybe it will make you disappear.

Talon: Ha! The only things that will disappear are my clothes from the waist down. Lo: Ew, stop. Talon: Don’t play innocent. Be there in fifteen. Be ready. Lo: K

Placing all my dirty laundry back into the hamper, I’m glad Talon has a truck so he won’t be sniffing my stink. True to his word, he knocks on my door fifteen minutes later. Shooting a quick good-bye to Maggie, he helps me carry my soap and dirty laundry basket down to the car with ease. Yeah . . . car, not truck. It just keeps getting better. Talon pops the trunk, placing all my

crap in the back. I stop in my tracks. It’s the mean car from the first night, except now it isn’t so scary. It’s beautiful; the designs are intricately painted to perfection. A work of art. Walking up to it, I trail my fingers across its flawless glossy black body. “Wow, Talon, she is really beautiful.” Stepping to my side, he opens the passenger door. Without prompt, I slide down across the smooth black leather bucket seat outlined in neon green stitching. “Yeah, she’s a gem, makes a lot of things happen for me.” Yeah, like all the blowjobs and easy pussy, probably in this very seat I’m sitting in.

Talon closes my door, circling around the front of the hood and gets comfortable in the driver’s seat. When he turns on the car, the sensation is like no other. The back of the seat feels like what I imagine Talon’s arms would feel like wrapped around me: warm, strong, and secure. The seat hums, hitting me right where I want it. I could just sit still and let the vibrations take me over the edge. I’m in desperate need of a session with “GOD,” my trustworthy, handsome, never-leave-you-for-a-hotter-woman vibrator. Hey, if I’m going to call a name out, it might as well be accurate. Keeping my lips shut, I fight from releasing a moan. “Are you okay?”

Tensing, I glance over. Talon is staring at me from across the center console, left hand casually resting on the top of the steering wheel probing me with those deep eyes. Letting off an odd laugh, I squeak, “Yeah, I’m fine.” Noticing my voice is a couple octaves higher, I shoot him a sweet smile. He gives me a strange look and nods an okay, putting my wet dream in reverse. Talon’s house is quiet most times I’m over. Stone is gone a lot during the week. He’s a mechanic down at Lady Parts, Sasha’s auto garage. A lot of the guys in our Friday night scene can be found just hanging out or working on their rides.

It takes several hours to finish up all my laundry. Talon keeps me company, making me laugh, and even helps organize and fold. My intimate apparel is strategically kept out of sight to him. Completely exhausted, we pull together an easy dinner consisting of tossed salad with chopped-up chicken breast on top and seat ourselves on the couch in front of the TV. “What do you like to watch?” he asks in between bites. “Lately, I’ve been addicted to those jail shows.” “Jail shows it is, then,” he says, pointing the remote at the TV. Eating together with Talon feels so easy and normal. It makes me wonder

why he chose his method with women and why he lets me see this rare side. Rumor circled it was because of his childhood, but never any conformation. And frankly I’m too chicken to ask. Who wouldn’t want that companionship or a family to love you dearly? God knows I miss mine terribly. I squeeze my eyes tightly to stop the onset of tears. “Ya know you could do that,” he says, using his fork to point at the screen. “Do what?” Not really focused on the TV, too lost in my thoughts, I look up to see what he’s talking about. A provocatively dressed prostitute is soliciting sex on the street corner to a man in a creepy minivan. Confusion laces my voice. “Be a prostitute?”

“Yeah . . . no, oh hell, I mean you could do what that chick is doing. You’re so beautiful you wouldn’t have any problem luring every man within a hundred-mile radius. The police force would have its secret weapon.” I don’t say anything back, and Talon doesn’t seem to notice. Did he really just say I’m beautiful? He usually doesn’t do a lot of flirting, and I’m sure he means nothing by it, but this doesn’t keep me from smiling inside. With each nonfriend comment Talon makes, our hangout sessions are a little less chill and a little more heated. My fear is the flirting will turn to touching, the touching will turn to kissing, the kissing will turn to screwing, and then, poof . . . we’re no

longer friends. So I have to keep him backed in that special corner, never reacting or giving him fuel for his fire. “Would you mind taking me home so I can start getting ready?” Casually leaning back, he pushes his plate away and peers at me. “Why don’t you just stay and you can ride with me to the field later?” “I’m not going like this.” I motion to the dirty clothes I’m wearing. “You don’t have to. All your clothes are here. Change into something hot, fluff your hair or whatever shit girls do, and we’ll go.” I purse my lips and think it over. It is a good idea. I’ll text Maggie to let her know the plans and meet up with her

there. Problem solved. “Stop that.” “Stop what?” “That thing you’re doing with your lips. Cut it out unless you want to become my official knob polisher too.” There’s another playful hit. Fine, but I’m hitting back. Releasing a soft giggle, I bite my lower lip seductively. Talon’s eyes light up and I hear him whisper, “Damn tease.” When my tongue slowly swipes across my lower lip, his eyes follow and his features go crazy. I’m small but fast, so when Talon lunges at me, I take off like a bunny, running up the stairs. He’s hot on my tail, so I throw myself into his room, slamming and locking the door

behind me. Bang, bang, bang. “You’re one lucky little temptress. Your ass cheek would have paid the price for that little stunt,” he taunts through the door. I’m laughing so hard I can’t speak. “Better luck next time, big boy.”

Chapter 7 Lo The scene at Wreckers Field is very much the same as the first night I came. It’s not pitch black out yet, but the sun is barely hanging onto the horizon. Cars are already lined up in order to race. Just like before, groups are clumped together in front of their vehicles. Sexy women are grazing, looking for that perfect male ego to stroke tonight, among other things. Talon and I both get out. He walks around the front of the car and stops in front of me. Without any

thought, as if it’s natural, he takes my hand and brings it to his lips, placing a sweet peck on the soft part of my inner wrist while holding my stare.

“I’m going to catch up with some people and enter a couple of heats. I’ll meet up with you later, k?” he murmurs. Robotically, I nod and he gives my chin a smooth touch before walking away. My hand finds my stomach and the silly feeling in my gut feels good. Besides small touches or half hugs, we never show affection like this, especially around anyone else. Maggie spots me from afar and shoots me a text, letting me know where she is. The whole group is there with a few add-ons.

“What’s up with your outfit?” Maggie snarls. I look down. My hair is pulled over my shoulder in a messy side braid. I’m wearing a lightweight gray Nike hoodie that is long enough to cover half of my butt, jeggings and simple black flipflops. “What’s wrong with it?” “Have you forgotten we live in Florida?” I just shrug, blowing her off. “Talon made me change three times before approving my clothes.” “What?” a chorus of people say. I didn’t realize everyone was listening. “That’s crazy!” Maggie shouts. “He said the mosquitos could be

bad.” Are those crazy eyes she’s giving me? Whatever. A commandingly loud noise of a train horn breaks everyone from what they’re doing. In the center of the yard is a mega Ford F-650 with chrome stack exhaust pipes smoking from both sides. The under carriage is painted flawlessly to match the sleek black-and-orange body. By far the biggest truck I’ve ever seen, colossal and mean describe it well. The man standing in the center of its bed exhibits the same characteristics. Holding a stack of cash, he is clearly the ring leader running this operation. “Bring it in,” he yells. Everyone seems to listen, forming a huge circle.

“Welcome to the duel. I am Duce. If you’re entering a race, you come to me. If you’re placing wagers, you come to me. Got it? Now here’s how this is going to work. Once your car has been assigned a number and is called, you will position it behind this painted line. We’ll race in heats two at a time. The last two standing will battle it out for all the booty.” Duce let out a small laugh. “Betting ends the second the front tires touch the starting line. Let me warn you. You must stay behind this spray-painted line.” He points to the ground, using his stack of bills. “Not doing so will get your ass killed, and ain’t nobody wants to clean up a mangled motherfucker. We’re here to cut loose, not to get the

popo called on us. Good luck. Heats are open.” Duce jumps down from his truck and immediately starts exchanging money and organizing races. Finn, with the voice of a typical surfer, speaks up. “Dude, T’s birthday is coming up next weekend. Is he doing that massive blowout as he did last year?” Sasha pipes in, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure. Stone was bragging how he can’t wait to bring in the Jell-O-wrestling pit.” “Well, I’ll definitely be there. His birthday parties are mad sick! Women, alcohol”—he pauses—“dude, what else do you need?” Really, I can do without both, but I would never miss Talon’s birthday.

“Awesome! This gives Lo and me a good excuse to go shopping,” Maggie says, wrapping an arm around me, smiling. Maggie catches on to my zeroexcitement expression. I mean just recently I acquired a new group of friends outside my secluded family life. It’s a little overwhelming. “Come on, Lo. You know you need a new bikini! Plus, you know hot guys will be there. Last year, it was one of the times I hooked up with Stone. God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but what I’m saying is this: guys, great food, and swimming. It’s a blast!” I think over her ridiculous antics to lure me in. I do need a new bikini. Most

of mine are shaggy from age or don’t fit because of all the hours I’ve put in the gym with Talon. This will be good for me. I can deal with some of my insecurities. There might even be a safe, nice guy there as well. Slowly, I start to feel optimistic. “Ya know you girls are always welcome down at my family’s lake anytime you want. Me and a bunch of my boys are getting together actually this Tuesday. You should come out. Bring everybody! There are plenty of Jet Skis, or if you just want to lie out, there’s a large deck for that too!” Finn offers. I smile at Maggie and Maggie grins at me. That sounds like so much fun. “Okay, Lo and I are in.”

“Sweet!” Finn shouts, clapping his hands. “We’ll meet up around noon. I’ll text you the address later. I’ll supply everything, including the booze and food. Don’t bring anything but yourselves and all your smoking hot friends.” “Great, we’ll be there,” Maggie says. We parked close to where the heats are taking place so we’d have a good view. The downfall is breathing in the strong smell of burnt rubber, which makes me incredibly uneasy. I spot Talon standing in a circle of girls. One brunette in particular is all over him. I don’t know her name and he probably doesn’t either, but his arm is thrown around her

waist, his hand tucked halfway down her shorts, and he’s caressing her skin with his thumb. She’s eating up the attention and his neck, seductively licking and biting anywhere she can reach. Evidently, he likes it because, when she hits a certain spot, his palm clutches her whole butt cheek. The other girls don’t care. They treat him as if he’s a god and their only focus is him. Why don’t they just feed him grapes and fan him with fronds too? The sight makes me want to pull away from him. I refuse to be one of those girls. Plus, I’m the one who wants to just be friends. I’m sure he’d fondle me too if I let him. These feelings are stupid, but I can’t just shut them off. Plus, it isn’t any of my business anyway.

It’s what’s best for me. So I force myself to focus elsewhere. Leaning casually against the grill of Maggie’s Jeep, I watch the races and occasionally chime in on the conversation flowing through the group, trying my hardest to keep my eyes from drifting back to him. Every time we come down to the field my anxiety rises. I can’t control it, and it only gets worse when I know Talon has entered heats. The unmistakable roar of an engine pulls my attention like no other, kicking my heart up a notch. I know that roar; everyone does. We lock eyes through his car window as unspoken words pass between us. One of his hands comes off

the steering wheel and captured between two fingers is one of my leather wrap bracelets. A huge smile pulls across my face that I can’t stop. Or maybe I don’t want to. Bikini Girl is standing in the middle of the starting line. On her mark, she holds the flag up in the air. Talon places a quick kiss to my bracelet, securing it and his hands back in position, focusing intently on the flag girl’s movements. He is in his element; this is him. His ripped forearms flex as he squeezes the steering wheel, ready to strike. I’m holding my breath, listening to the two revving engines ready to get a jump on the other when given the signal. I can’t breathe, I can’t move, and I sure

can’t look away. I hope the last lungful of air will hold me over long enough, I hope for my ass to not slip off this bumper, and I hope, win or lose, Talon comes back to me safely. The piercing noise of squealing tires marks the take-off. Both cars shoot out like silver and black bullets. My eyes are locked, fists clenched, heart racing, and everything is solely focused on their movements. I watch until my view is obscured by a cloud of exhaust and burnt rubber. My ears feel like I have cotton in them. Maggie calls my name several times. The words coming out are mumbled, and then the words seem to clear up. “Lo!” She inspects me with concern

in her eyes. Shaking my head, I jumpstart the blood flow, bringing me back to the here and now. “Sorry.” I blink a few times. “I’m alright.” Great, I must look crazy. I shift my eyes, letting them fall on two beautiful women standing next to Maggie, holding hands. They both stand around 5’9” but seem totally opposite. Maya has long black curly hair and dark maple brown eyes. She is slightly exotic-looking. My guess would be that she is from Brazil. Then there’s Trixie. She’s sporting white-blond hair, cut sharp right above her chin, framing a pale face that houses soft baby-blue eyes. I think Pixie would be a more fitting name, considering her

appearance. Their unique beauty is striking and makes me feel incredibly homely to say the least. We shake hands in a kind introduction. Maya and Trixie have been partners for a couple years now. They try talking me into batting for the opposite team. I flush and politely decline. It slips out that I’m still a virgin, and they giggle, stating they could keep me that way if that’s what I wanted. I flush even deeper and everyone bursts into laughter. “A virgin,” Trixie says wide-eyed. “My, I didn’t think Talon got mixed up with girls like that.” She gives Maggie a probing glance. I cringe. “It’s not like that with us.

We mainly hang out and hit the gym together. Strictly friends.” Trixie doesn’t believe me, I can see that. “Ah huh, that’s what they all say until Talon sticks one in them, and then he’s not so friendly anymore.” Maya chimes in next. “Don’t be naïve. Have you ever seen Talon with a girlfriend? I don’t want to sound mean, but look around. Do you see him treating any females like that? And if you do, you won’t see him with the same girl more than twice. He’s around just long enough to sample the milk then get the hell out of the pasture.” I’m not stupid. I’ve heard that warning over and over, but it certainly makes me feel stupid. I feel like I know

a different Talon from what they see. I could probably argue until the cows come home, and they still wouldn’t believe me. Just as I’m deep in thought, I hear, more than see, Talon pull his Mustang right next to us. Rushing, he jumps out with a huge grin and wraps his big arms around my waist, lifting me up against his body. My arms and legs clamp securely around him as he spins us in a circle, laughing. Gently he sets me down on the warm hood of his car. “Did you see that?” He sings with happiness, beaming down at me. “I haven’t been able to beat Marcus in the quarter mile in years. Do you know what kind of money you won me? You and your

bracelet are my good-luck charms.” I just smile back, not knowing what to say, when a crowd of excited guys comes over, slapping Talon on the back, congratulating him on his big win. After they leave, Talon steps back and relaxes between my legs, placing a hand on each one of my thighs. We stay like this for another hour, talking to everyone. My arms grow tired from leaning on them, and not thinking, I casually drape them around Talon’s neck, resting my chin on the crook of his shoulder. He smells so good. I feel Talon either stroke my thighs tenderly or reach up and hold my wrist, hugging it up to his cheek. The whole night I dodge glances and stares. Too bad. In that moment, I don’t care. His

happiness makes me happy and I’m proud of him. Screw them. The night is coming to a close and everyone is leaving. Turning around, Talon hugs my waist in his hands and helps me off his hood effortlessly. I start making my way to the Jeep when a soft hand touches my inner forearm and slides down, hooking my pinkie finger. “Babe, you’re coming home with me, aren’t you?” I eyeball Maggie, who is waiting expectantly in her driver’s seat, and I feel as if I’m choosing between good and evil. Logic tells me to go with Maggie, but my heart pulls me to Talon. I’m at war, but sadly the heart wants what the heart wants.

Releasing his hand, I smile. “Hold on.” He patiently waits while I walk up to the Jeep’s window. “Don’t do it, Lo,” Maggie warns. “Maggie, I’m not going to do anything. All my clothes are already over there; plus, he won’t have to make a special trip in the morning to get me for the gym.” That’s what I keep telling myself. I hope to convince her as I convinced myself. She exhales a sigh. “Okay, but if he does something you’re not comfortable with, call me! I’ll come over and rip that fucker’s dick off before he can say fellatio.” I crack up, which makes Maggie laugh too. With one foot, I step up onto

the step rail and give her a big hug. “I love you, Maggie. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Bye, babe. Be safe.” When I turn back around, Talon is standing with the passenger-side door open, waiting to place me inside. I give him a friendly smile and step in, letting him shut my door. I watch him walk around the car, open his door, and slide in the driver’s seat. Pure satisfaction gleams in his eyes. He knows I won’t say “no,” and he’s never looked happier. Content. We drive to his house. Evidently, Stone is already home because when we walk in the lights are turned low and we hear the sound of slapping flesh paired

with . . . a dying cat? Boy, this girl is going Broadway with this production. I don’t know how Stone keeps his boner or is that what guys like? I freeze midstep and peer up at Talon. “Sorry, but you really don’t want to see that,” Talon says, grabbing my hand, pulling me upstairs into his room. I walk in and throw my purse on his bed. The faint click of his door closing has me pivoting on my toes. He’s standing with his back against the door, staring at me from under his brows with heated smiling eyes. My eyes are not smiling because his expression tells me he wants to chew me up and possibly spit me out like the tons of other girls who have graced his door. That look has

me shaking like an injured bunny waiting to be eaten. For some reason, this feels different from the many times I’ve been in here. Maybe it’s the look on his face or something subconsciously I want. Either way I feel the shift. Talon approaches with the grace of a tiger, stopping right in front of me. “Are you hungry?” Breathe . . . then talk. “Y-yeah.” I waiver. “Pizza okay?” I just nod. “Go hop in the shower. You can use whatever you want in there. I’ll place the order. It should be here by the time you get out.” I nod again, biting my lips together, moving to my clean laundry basket, and

digging out something to sleep in. I don’t check to see what Talon is doing. I don’t need to. I sense him watching me until I seek cover in the bathroom. The bathroom is decorated handsomely. The walls are painted a soft gray. The counter top is swirling black marble. All the accents and towels throughout are either navy-blue or white. I like it and . . . it’s actually clean. I make myself at home in Talon’s shower. Ripping off my dusty clothes and throwing them into a pile, I step in, closing the glass door behind me. Ten minutes later I step out in a cloud of steam, a sparkling new girl. As I slide on my white cami and comfy cotton shorts, something stops me, my hand

resting on the door handle. Will I walk in on Talon changing or will he be lying on his bed, expecting me? I don’t like either option, seeing how they make my stomach do jumping jacks. When I turn the handle, somewhat to my relief, the bedroom is empty. I listen as the doorbell rings. One ring . . . two rings . . . three rings . . . I’m sure it’s the pizza guy, and I’m sure Stone is in no position to answer the door. Quickly, I dig in my purse for my wallet and fly down the stairs, almost hitting my face with the front door as I swing it open. Sure enough there he stands: red hat, crater faced, and one steaming hot box of pizza perched

on one hand. “Hey,” the pubescent pizza guy says, giving me a grimy smile. “One large pepperoni extra-cheese pizza made for my lady”—he bows before me, offering up the box—“only $12.95.” This guy gives me the creeps and I just want him gone, so I throw him a twenty and take the savory box, inhaling a good whiff of spices and garlic. I almost drop the pizza when a warm chest presses into my back and a possessive arm wraps around my middle from behind. “Sorry, bro, get your own. She’s all mine tonight.” Talon says, shutting the door in the guy’s face. I spin out of his arms and push him away. How annoying. “Talon, what was

that for?” Now he’s holding the pizza. It doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s only wearing a pair of navy-blue pajama pants. The strings at the top are untied, and they’re hanging dangerously low, ready to slip off his toned hips. His chest is bare, and random droplets of water speckle his shoulders, making his toned muscles sparkle. And the sexiest happy trail. God! I try not to stare, but it’s masculine and sexy. Talon cocks his head to the side in the cutest way, rolling his eyes down my body. “You should thank me. I was just saving you from that creeper.” “Really, because that didn’t sound like you were saving me. You might as

well have just peed on me.” I pause. “Plus, I had it handled.” I cross my arms over my chest. He scoffs, wrinkling his forehead. “Enough of this nonsense, woman; the pizza is getting cold.” He grabs one of my hands and ushers me back to the bedroom. Stupid dominant man. We settle comfortably in the middle of his bed and watch trashy TV, downing pizza and cokes. Talon cleans up our mess, and I lean up against the headboard, placing a comforting hand on my stuffed belly. When he comes back, he crawls up the mattress, sitting hip to hip with me. Only the flicker from the TV lights up the room.

I feel it first. From the corner of my eye, I watch Talon stare at me without a word, unsmiling. His eyes don’t move for what feels like forever. Without looking at him, I do my best to keep a straight face. “Keep leering at me that way, and I’ll say you’re the creeper.” That does it. He bursts open with laughter, firmly nudging my shoulder. Simple physics propel my small body sideways, throwing a blinding layer of hair over my eyes. The bed shifts and all of a sudden he is half on top of me, easily using his arm to brace him above me. I’m stirred and disoriented. With one finger, he tenderly brushes away the sheet of hair. Bottomless pits

of blue rain down unspoken mixed feelings. I try to remain unaffected, but every tiny thing he does affects me. Will he finally try to make a move? I want him to. I binge on the man above, devouring his tan skin, strong muscles, and eyes that go soft for me. He doesn’t think I notice, but I do. We both remain still, and Talon takes a deep breath. Our long pause is getting awkward; he’s changing his mind. I should have pushed him away by now, but I can’t. But having something serious with him would be crazy. Stupid even. “Lo, has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” His tone is raw and rough as it kisses my ear. “And you smell so damn good. You smell like me.”

I painfully try to swallow down the boulder in my throat, gazing into twin blue eyes. “I want to do so much more than kiss you right now. But I’m going to be that gentleman I promised you I’d be.” Seconds tick by then, “Fuck it.” In one swift motion, his lips possess mine. He’s all warm and energized; nothing in me wants to pull away. I want to pull us closer together and let my body have fun for once. His hold is firm in my hair; his lips are sharp and desperate like he’s never kissed a girl before. Well, we both know that’s not true. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I press my body tightly to his chest, feeling his heart beating against mine. One of my knees draws up

between his legs and nudges against his taint; with that, he eagerly pushes his growing bulge against me and groans. Hands are everywhere: pulling at clothing, rubbing areas that aren’t usually rubbed. We desperately nip, suck, and play with each other without thought of the consequences. I guess this is what an explosion of attraction feels like, but then my mind bounces back to wondering if I’m just another new toy for him to break. I notice us losing control when he starts to work the elastic band on my shorts down. With that, I roll away to the farthest end of the bed, still feeling him all over me. He’s the reason girls have broken hearts in the first place. He’s

good, wearing his mask of love that can trick any girl into believing he’s sincere. All we can do is stare at each other, both panting, trying to recover from that mess of a kiss. “I’m sorry,” he says in between heavy breaths. I continue to study him and shake my head no. My lips feel funny when I reach up and touch them. They’re swollen. I bet they’re red too. This is a bad idea. How naïve am I to think we’d hang out in his bedroom and he wouldn’t take advantage of the situation. I just need to leave. Gathering my things, I avoid looking at him. When he realizes what I’m doing, he jumps up and takes my purse and shoes from my hands. “Whoa, wait. Where are you going? I don’t want

you to leave.” “Talon, I think it’s for the best.” “No, it’s not. If I let you leave, you might never speak to me again. I just know it.” He pauses for a beat, pleading with his eyes. “Believe me. I’m disappointed with myself. I just hope I didn’t screw up our friendship.” I’m not confirming that. He didn’t screw it up; he just . . . complicated it. “I can see you want to leave.” He’s right. “You make me happy and confuse me all at the same time.” He gently tugs my hands in the direction of his bed, walking backwards. “Please, I just want to lie down with you for a few minutes. I’ll be good. Promise.” He’s so cute, even when it’s blatant

manipulation. We move back to the bed, and I lay my head in the crook of his arm, resting a hand over his beating heart. Talon pulls a blanket over us and strokes up and down the length of my arm. His touch is so comforting. I close my eyes and fight my body from pushing up and tasting his lips again. Over time, his firm muscles relax, and his breathing evens out. I, on the other hand, can’t relax. With my body at peace, my mind goes to war. I don’t know what to feel. I can’t give in. What if I do and he changes his mind because the fantasy is way more exciting than the reality? Taking that risk of getting close . . . Well, that’s a tough fight I’m not ready to battle. My logic keeps telling me it’s

too soon, that I need a little more time to heal. I have to be the guardian of my heart, a heart that’s barely being held together.

Chapter 8 Lo Sleep never takes me. I lie awake for hours, tightly folded in Talon’s side with my ear pressing snugly to his steady heart.

A heart that loves no one. A heart I’m starting to fall for. A heart I’m beginning to trust. The man who surrounds that heart makes mine beat heavy. Heavy with sensual cravings,

confidence, but mainly the need of love, logic hits me, where? In the heart, and I know I can’t be led in his direction. Last night in particular went too far. After listening to Talon’s rhythmic breathing for some time, I feel my eyes lose the fight and I drift off to sleep. Whenever my anxiety runs high, which has been pretty frequently lately, my body revolts and kicks out of Dreamland, always around four a.m. Covered in sweat, I struggle to pull air in my lungs, fisting Talon’s bicep and sheets. Wary eyes bounce all over the room until I realize where I am, and immediately, I soften my grip, feeling my heart rate come down. Half of the room is draped in moonlight, giving me

enough of a glow to move about. I need a moment alone. Strategically, I untangle our bodies and step out of bed, careful not to rouse the beast. I pull my light hoodie over my head and snatch up my flip-flops, carrying them down the stairs. Why is it when I’m trying to be quiet the noise I make seems ten times louder? The floor creaks when it didn’t before. Opening the front door, I step out onto the porch, inhaling a gulp of wet night air, and close the door quietly behind me.

Talon

One minute my body is wrapped protectively around the tiny slice of heaven made just for me and then, next, utter ataxia. I wake from a cool breeze spinning off the fan onto the empty spot where Lo had been nestled tightly against me. Fighting my eyes open, I glance over at my alarm clock—4:41 a.m.—then over to the Loless side of my bed. I run my hand over the sheets. Cold. She’s been gone for a while then. Maybe she’s just using the bathroom. Swinging my legs out of bed, I walk to that door. I don’t care if she is doing womanly things or not. I turn the handle and push it wide open. Empty.

Hmm. I stop and start thinking. Why would she leave? Did I push her too far and make her feel uncomfortable? Fuck, I’m an ass! Why did I have to kiss her? We were having such a good time together, and then my control slipped. She makes it so hard to be in control. I

shouldn’t have leaned over her, but if she wasn’t so damn perfect and angelic looking up at me, her beautiful hair sprawled all over my bed like a golden halo, I wouldn’t be in this predicament. Fuck’n-A, it’s only hair. She’s got me all messed up, not knowing how to think or act. She gets really nervous, I can tell. We spend enough time together that she shouldn’t, but I know she does and I like that. Her vulnerability makes her even sexier. But me? What I feel is a little more complicated. I hold it all inside. For me, it’s like a riot has broken out in my chest and the rioters have joined forces and cut the strings securing my heart. My heart then drops and sizzles in

the boiling acids in my stomach. It’s unnerving and has me rubbing a palm where my heart is. I rub my hands over my face several times, thinking hard, worrying. I have to find her. What if she’s hurt or lost? Maybe Stone has seen her. As soon as I think it, I want to un-think it, feeling my feet freeze. What if she’s down in bed with Stone? This wouldn’t be the first time Stone has taken my sloppy seconds, not that Lo is, and usually I wouldn’t care. But Lo is different. Motherfucker! He’s dead! Violently, I rip my bedroom door open, letting it crash loudly against the wall and storm into Stone’s room,

kicking his door open without knocking. I see two bodies in his bed, strands of blond hair peeking from the covers, and my blood pressure boils to dangerous levels. I’m going to kill this motherfucker! Strong arming the light switch, I flip it on. Storming over, I rip all the covers off their bodies, my eyes unsteady from rage. “What the fuck, Talon!” Stone yells while he shields his eyes from the light, and the blond bimbo shields her private parts. Too late I see them; they’re not so private anymore, sweetheart. My mood morphs from anger to worried sick in a split second. I’ve got to find her! My feet start moving, and I don’t even bother to

turn the light back off on my way out of his room. I hear him yell as I sprint down the stairs. “Have you lost your damn mind?” Quite possibly. I do a quick scan of the kitchen, living room, and backyard. No Lo. I grab my truck keys off the counter, slide my feet into some sandals, and dart out the front door. As I start the truck up, the lights illuminate the porch, and the tiny movement of Lo covering her eyes has me wiping a shaky hand down my face and breathing a deep sigh of relief. Ripping the keys from the ignition, I get out and rush to her, throwing myself to my knees and wrapping her protectively in my arms. After a moment,

I pull back, thoroughly looking her over. Her face is sad, eyes slightly bloodshot, and I wonder why. I can’t stop the slew of rushed questions. “Are you okay?” She nods. “Did I do something wrong?” She slowly shakes her head no. “Do you want to talk about it?” She shakes her head no again while looking down, her tiny frame slightly shivering. “Come back to bed with me. You’re cold.” Gently, I help her up from the rocking chair. When she stands completely, I scoop her up in my arms and carry her like a bride all the way up to my bed where I lay us both down, covering us up in thick blankets. Her

body trembles for a short time, and she smells like outside, but soon I have her smelling like me again with her safely tucked with her back to my front and my arm tightly around her stomach. The protective side of me needs to know what all this is about, but I know I won’t be getting answers any time soon. I release a sigh of relief, simply knowing she’s back in my arms, and before I can stop myself, I place a tender kiss to the back of her head, letting my lips rest there. Her tiny voice speaks. “Talon?” “Yeah?” Silence, silence, silence. “Thank you for caring.” I feel the callous on my heart she’s

been softening get a little softer. “Only for you, babe.” My arms pull her in closer, if that’s even possible, and I let my cheek rest in her hair, speaking so low she probably can’t hear me. “Only for you.” After a short time, her scent pacifies my raging nerves, and easily I plummet back into slumber. The next morning I awake to tiny fingers walking across my chest. The stimulating sensation is stirring my whole body, including the boss downstairs, but I don’t want her to stop, so I hold perfectly still and pretend to sleep. Her nails trace the twists and turns of my tats until she reaches my heart. I don’t have any tattoos there, so I wait to see what she’ll do. That one

finger holds perfectly still. I feel every time she exhales, like soft hands brushing across my flesh. This girl . . . God, I don’t know what to say except it’s getting really difficult to keep things simple. Why? I don’t want to be just friends, but I’m barely capable of that. That lone finger begins to move, sketching what feels like a heart with a crack going down its middle, and then she graces it with the softest of kisses. What? What is that supposed to mean? I’m lost when her fingers leave me and the bed shakes as she rolls back to her side. No, wait. Come back. I wait a few minutes then pretend to wake up, turning over and hauling her flush against me. She’s so little in my arms. She

giggles and says “good morning” in the sweetest voice. I love her voice and her giggles. That rich sound has me wanting. Like a movie reel running out of control, it’s all there, flashing behind my eyes what could be. Suddenly, I want people to see us together and not start any rumors, I want to wake up and kiss the sleep from her eyes, and I want her stuff to occupy one of the drawers in my dresser. Wanting all I want, I know she’ll never agree. She pushes me away to protect herself. She believes it’s the right thing to do and maybe it is. Someone like me usually isn’t the best for her safe world. Taking a bottomless breath of Lo, I settle tightly into her. “Good morning,”

my raspy morning voice replies. We need to continue our normal “friends” routine, so I act casual. I don’t want her to feel awkward since I caught her hanging out on my porch at 4:45 in the morning. “You up for the gym today?” Twisting her neck, she turns her eyes to me. “Yep, now?” “Yeah, why not?” With that, she gives me a generic smile, and we both get out of bed and get ready. Does she not want to go? We don’t say much. I watch her move about getting ready, completely oblivious to my stares. On our way out, we grab two breakfast shakes and load her clean laundry basket into my car. She’s quiet, real quiet all of a sudden,

but I don’t push.

The gym is bustling for a usual Saturday morning. I move to the weights, thinking Lo will follow, but she diverts over to the treadmills instead, picking a machine next to a guy around our age. The shithead has the nerve to give her the once-over, pass a smile, and try to catch her attention. My blood begins to simmer again as I feel crazy possessive. She pays him no attention, picking a song on her phone and starting a run.

Good! Take a hike, loser. The whole hour and a half in the gym I get nothing done. I watch over her like a mother lion watching her cubs. The asshat never bothers her again, but her silence around

me is eating me up. I can see she’s up in her head, so I walk up to her machine. “Sauna?” She nods that fucking closed-off nod I’m starting to hate, and I lead the way over there. With a pull of the handle, I open the sauna room door, and we move, choosing to lounge on opposite benches. We don’t even bother to change our clothes; it doesn’t matter at this point. I’m dying to get some things off my chest. I’m not sure if it’s the tension in the air or the thickness of the heat, but it’s harder to breathe, and it’s bothering the hell out of me. We settle back and the firing of questions commences. “Did I hurt you last night?” She doesn’t answer me right away.

She just pushes out a big sigh, looking down and picking at her nails. “No.” “Did you go anywhere?” Flatly, she replies, “Only as far as the porch.” Why did she even need to go to the porch? “Why were you crying?” She bites her lip to stop it from quivering. It looks like she wants to cry now and is about to tell me something but then decides against it. “I wasn’t crying.” I feel my jaw clench out of frustration, and more aggressively than I should, I ask, “Do you do this often?” Her angry eyes shoot to mine, forehead creased and tilting slightly sideways, and she fires back. “What’s

with the interrogation?” I’m taken aback. Okay, maybe I was a bit sharp, but I couldn’t help it. She is giving me nothing, and nothing makes me crazy. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to piss you off. I just want to help.” “I don’t need your help or anyone else’s, so just forget about it.” “Okay . . .” “Okay!” She shoots back, taking a minute to pause. “Will you take me home now?” I don’t want to take her home. I just want to take her to my home where I can hold her and reassure her that this problem really isn’t as big a problem as it feels. Don’t give it that power. But once again, I have to remember our

label, so I tell her “sure.” We get up and she pushes the door open before I can open it for her, and I follow her out to my car. I don’t know what triggered this new mood, and I sure as shit don’t know how to pull her out of it either. We pull up in front of her condo, and she immediately starts to jump out, but I firmly grab her upper arm, halting her progress. She glances at my hand then gives me a fixed eye. “I’m going to help you inside.” “No, thank you, Talon, I’ve got it.” Her tone is agitated. She jerks her arm away and pulls her things from the trunk. I let her go. Sometimes people just need a moment to themselves, and I’m hoping it’s something petty like she’s on the rag.

I watch her punch the code into the key pad, but before she walks through the building doors, I step one leg out of the Mustang, leaning my body over the door. “Can I call you later?” I shout. Without looking at me, she nods and gives me a sloppy wave good-bye, juggling that heavy basket. Then she’s gone. I get back in and blink at my steering wheel, thoroughly confused. Chicks! This is why I don’t get involved. I hate playing guessing games or feeling mindfucked. I go back to my place, shower, and prepare for our usual Saturday night party. Stone and I started this many years ago so the pussy would come to us. But

lately, these parties haven’t been the same for me. I’m hoping Lo will come and that she’ll be in a better mood.

Lo I enter my condo and pace down the hallway, making a pit stop at the laundry room to strip out of my sweaty clothes. Releasing my hair from its ponytail, I give it a couple shakes then step back into the hallway and pad over to my room. The contrast between the moisture on my skin and the cooler air makes my nipples rock hard, and I about jump out of my skin when I see Micah standing in front of me, taking up the width of the hallway. In a flash, one palm stretches over my crotch, and an arm wraps over my breasts. Mentally, I curse myself

for not remembering when Maggie said he would be here.

“Wow, Lo, what a way to welcome your guest.” He’s fully amused, giving me an adorable smile. Embarrassed and unable to move, I squeak, “Hi, Micah.” He rushes me and wraps me in a big bear hug like I have clothes on or something. My hands don’t move while he shakes back and forth. Ah, I can feel my booty jiggle. “It’s so good to see you!” he says. He and Maggie are just alike: two nuts cracked from the same crazy shell. So awkward. “Yeah . . . you too. Do you mind if I shower first, and then we’ll continue this?”

He sets me down but keeps me in his arms. “Oh, sure, I’ll just close my eyes. See you in a minute.” Closing his eyes, he releases me, though I’m hesitant to move. Cautiously, I remove my crotch hand and wave it over and over in front of his face. No reaction. Good. Deeming it safe, I make a run for my bathroom, hoping he’s not scarred for life as I am. When I come out, fully clothed, I stroll to the living room, stopping to rest my shoulder against the archway. My initial emotion is jealousy. Micah and Maggie will always have each other. The same blood runs through their veins, and the only thing separating them is a Y chromosome. But my second emotion

trumps the first as an overwhelming wave of adoration washes up my chest. Maggie and Micah both glance up from their seats and wave me over. I sit on the floor, extending my legs in front of me, and lean back on my hands. I could kill Maggie. I give her the evil eye and sarcastically say, “Thanks for the warning text that your brother is here, friend.” She scrunches up her tiny perfect nose. “Yeah, about that, I’m so sorry. I heard.” Micah smiles and releases an amused laugh. Oh God, how mortifying. Micah is handsome with his light brown hair long enough to run your fingers through and has chiseled model features,

but I have no attraction for him. He’s more of a close brother. He’s a touchyfeely guy, who doesn’t bother me, but he chalks it up to being sensitive. “So what do you want to do tonight?” Maggie asks. “Should we let Micah experience one of Talon’s parties?” I really don’t want to see Talon again today. I’m embarrassed for being a total bitch when all he was trying to do was show that he cared. “Nah, why don’t we order dinner in and just veg out with a good movie.” Maggie looks to Micah and Micah replies, “Whatever you girls want, I’m game.” “Cool, it’s settled,” I say with an excited smile.

The three of us decide on Chinese and order a chick flick. We laugh hard. It’s just what the doctor ordered. When it’s over, Maggie kisses everyone goodnight, and Micah leaves to take a shower.

It’s 11:23 p.m., but I’m not tired yet. I pull my iPad off the coffee table and start surfing the web. Ten minutes in, Talon is FaceTiming me. I touch the green circle, and his perfectly handsome face pops up. “Hey, you didn’t come tonight. I missed you.” I smile big because I like the thought that he truly does miss me. I can hear an overall hum of muffled voices and notice the background is his bedroom; barely

any lights are on. Clearly tons of people are still over. My mind starts conjuring up how many girls came over to see Talon tonight and whether any got lucky. “I didn’t feel like going out. I just had a little date night around the house.” Talon’s voice changes from joyful yearning to deeply chafed. “Lo, who was that guy that just walked behind you in a fucking towel?” I rubberneck down the hall to see the tail end of Micah entering the kitchen. “Oh, that’s Micah. So did you have a big turnout tonight?” On his way back, Micah leans over the back of the sofa and lays a kiss on my cheek. “Goodnight, babe,” he says, walking

away. “Night,” I throw back. “Did that son of a bitch just kiss you?” I don’t like Talon’s tone, and my expression changes from calm to defensive. “What crawled up your ass tonight? Did you not get any pussy?” I immediately want to take it back. I really don’t want to know that answer. His body flinches from my hit, and shock and disbelief splash across his face. He gapes at me as if I’m nuts and that isn’t his MO. A faint knock comes from his door, and a beam of light spills in with the entrance of a tall slender body. Talon doesn’t move, doesn’t greet her, and sure as hell doesn’t kick her out,

but she wobbles over to him and drapes her slender self around his shoulders. I can’t get a good view of her except for her disheveled hair, droopy bloodshot eyes, and skanky red tube top. Talon’s eyes drop down and his face looks bored. “Tal-on, are you coming back to the par-dy? You’re missing all the fun,” she slurs, trying to nuzzle her face in the crook of his neck. He pulls away while pushing at her head. “Yeah, I’ll be right there”—with a pause, his eyes come back to me and he says vindictively—“babe.” The floozy giggles with delight and flops her flimsy body on his bed, getting cozy in his pillow. Ew.

I feel shocked, weak, and disgusted. Am I imagining all of this? Did he just throw that back in my face intentionally? I did nothing wrong. The surge of tears starts to develop, but I’ll be damned if I let him see me cry. He speaks first. “I see we both have company, so I’ll let you attend to yours, while I go satisfy mine. Have a fucking good night.” Before I can say anything, he ends the chat. A few traitorous tears fall, and I realize my hands are shaking. I have this extreme urge to throw my iPad. Why did I expect anything different? People have reputations for a reason, and sadly, I think that was the wake-up call I needed.

Chapter 9 Lo It smells like the color brown, and an odd tickle tickles the tip of my nose. Begrudgingly, I slide my eyes open. Is that a . . . ahhh! My right hand rises up and swipes Diddy off my chest. “Nasty cat! Go sleep on someone else.” A low noise comes from next to me¸ and I prop myself up on my elbows to see Micah sitting on the other end of the couch, chuckling, watching a muted TV.

“You couldn’t have helped me out?”

I say in a raspy voice, pulling my body upright on the couch, brushing the coat of cat hairs from me. “No way, doll. I was just waiting for that to happen, and your face was priceless.” He smiles, causing a dimple to pop out on his right cheek. “Shouldn’t you be out searching for another place to live?” “Ha, trying to get rid of me already?” I can’t help smiling as I sink back into the cushion and snuggle up in my blanket to block out the chill in the room. I watch mindlessly as the stock market numbers scroll along the bottom of the TV screen, and then my eyes spot that darn iPad on the coffee table. Just like that my smile fades and my mind drifts

back to last night, wondering if Talon banged that chick or not. I try to hold back the cloud of resentment that is starting to roll back in, but the slap stings a little more, witnessing it firsthand. I blink a few times, stretching open my eyes. They feel tight. I don’t need his nonsense; I need to focus on starting school and building my life. Screw this! Today is going to be all about me, so I kick the blanket off. Micah watches in silence as I pad down the hallway to Maggie’s door, knocking softly. “Come in,” she says. Turning the knob smoothly, I poke my head in a room of blackness. “Maggie, you up?” I whisper. “Mmm hmm.” She’s still half asleep.

“May I borrow your car today? Do you have anything important to do?” “You’re looking at it. Knock yourself out.” “Thanks.” Shutting her door, I go to mine and get ready for what I have planned.

First stop is this hole-in-the-wall coffee shop called The Grind, where I get my caffeine fix. Dark red walls house the best smelling aroma of ground beans. It saturates the air and clings to my clothes as I sip my liquid dessert, peering out a busy window. The mood here is fabulous.

From there, I hit up a salon, badly in need of a trim, completing my stay with

a mani-pedi. The manicurist rubs my legs until they’re silky smooth and paints my nails the softest baby pink. The color is pretty and makes me feel feminine. After that, I swing by this store called The Jewelry Box. I’ve been eyeing it since I moved here. I just haven’t had time to go. The bell chimes as I enter. “Welcome, is there anything I can help you find?” With a bright smile, a very nice red-haired saleswoman greets me. “No, just looking.” “Okay, don’t hesitate to get me if you need any help.” “Thank you.” I move around to each display, reveling in all the beautiful pieces. They have everything from high-

end to local artists, cheap to the very expensive. When all my new jewels are wrapped and paid for, I drive home with the top down, radio up, and the wind blowing through my hair. The condo is quiet. I practically float to my room and organize my treasures in my jewelry box, happier than ever. There’s just something about hitting the jackpot when you go shopping that spikes your mood like a sugar high. Next I change into an old black string bikini that is still in decent shape, grab a towel, a bottle of water, and earbuds and head back downstairs to the condo’s community pool. The pool is quiet and almost empty except for a mother and her little girl playing in the shallow end.

I take a minute to watch them. I watch them giggle, which makes me giggle. The little girl lands on her mother’s shoulder, catching eyes with me. She smiles a missing-tooth smile like I’m not a stranger. So beautiful. I give her a subtle wave, and she extends her arms out in my direction, ultimately melting my insides. Her mother twists to see what she’s reaching for, and we share a smile; then she hugs her daughter closer. Once they turn away, I press three fingers to my lips and offer it up to the heavens, giving my momma a silent I love you. Lying out under the hot rays, I slide my sleek silver-framed shades on and turn on some easy listening music. The

light breeze and tropical tones take me to another world. Why haven’t I done this sooner? This is the first time I’ve ventured to the pool since I got here. I guess I’ve been too wrapped up in Talon lately, but I can see myself coming down here more often. I must have fallen asleep, because when I open my eyes, Maggie is standing above me, tapping my shoulder. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty. Do you plan on eating with us? Micah just finished up the burgers, and I figured you’d probably be hungry.” I am a little hungry. The only thing I had was that coffee this morning. “Yeah, I’ll come up.” Maggie helps me carry all my crap

back upstairs. When we open the front door, my stomach growls at the mouthwatering aroma seeping from the kitchen. Kicking off my flip-flops, I excuse myself to freshen up. My skin is rose tinged. I’m lucky; by morning, my skin will brown up. Opening my door, I walk to the dining room where Maggie and Micah are seated around the table, a plate already made and waiting for me. The sight warms my heart, and I will forever cherish the love these two people show me. Dinner is amazing! I eat so much I can hardly move. I laugh so much I can barely breathe. We move our party into the living room after cleaning up. Since

we girls picked the last movie, Micah gets to pick tonight’s flick. We lie around, just the three of us, completely comfortable with one another. We are the three blond mice. Micah doesn’t criticize us when we cry during certain parts or veto our chick flicks because they’re corny. He has a kind heart, and the woman that hooks him will be one lucky girl. For a brief moment, I question if he’d be right for me. He embodies the perfect mate— great steady job, sensitive, tall, blond, and handsome—and we share a love for one another. The foundation is set. Micah is a nice guy; he’s just not my guy. Like the night before, Maggie bids us farewell, leaving Micah and me on

opposite ends of the couch. I’m sitting there with my head slightly tipped down, picking nonexistent lint from my pants. It’s weird, like playing a game of chicken, because neither one of us moves, except for Micah’s wise eye staring me down from two cushions over. I don’t budge. Slowly he stands, extending both arms high above his head to stretch, releasing a big yawn. Good, he’s leaving. Tricking me, he takes one step over and settles into the seat to my right. With the turn of my head, I peer at him. Yep, he’s up to something. “How are you doing, Lo?” he asks, reaching over and patting the top of my hand as a father would do. Oh no, I don’t want to get into this . .

. this daddy talk. His question has me swallowing hard. “Good.” Okay. He snorts a disbelieving laugh. “Don’t bullshit me. Remember I’m a lawyer. I know when people are lying.” Dang, I know better. I should’ve been the first one to go to bed, and then I wouldn’t be having this uncomfortable spilling of my guts. “Okay.” “Spill.” I continue with hesitancy. “There’s a person I tried to not become friends with, but we started hanging out a lot, and they kind of grew on me. My gullible self got attached, developed a trust, but I was a fool.” I take a long breath; Micah reaches back over and covers my hand with his. “Last night

some things were done and said that shouldn’t have shocked me but did. Frankly, they hurt. I thought things between us were different. It seems people only show you what they think you want to see. Now in my mind, we’ve sprung back to square one and an ironclad wall went up in place of my lovely white picket fence.” I stop and think about how little interaction I’ve had with guys or even friends for that matter. It’s sad. “But I’m okay,” I say, smiling at Micah. I’m okay because I have to be. Micah just nods while he gathers and analyzes all the evidence. “Well, I’m sorry some jackass took advantage of your good heart, but it’s smart you

recognized he was a problem. It is a he, right?” Pulling a smile from the depths of me, I nod a couple times. “Whew, good. Just remember . . . men aren’t stupid creatures. We may not be the sharpest with women, and sometimes we need an instruction manual, but if a man cares for you truly, he’ll do anything in his power to keep you around, and I mean anything!” “Why are you so perfect?” I say, shaking my head and smiling at him. “Nah,” he says, bumping his shoulder into mine. “I’ve just dated a lot, and maybe I even let the right one slip away, but in the process, I’ve learned some really good things just from

listening.” Micah pulls up the hand of mine he’s been holding and presses a kiss to it. “Now go to bed; your eyes look really tired.” “Thanks.” I know he’s right, and I am thankful for so much more than just his advice. Maybe he doesn’t ever have to move out. I stand up, wishing him a good night, and retire to the comfort of my bedroom. When I slip under my favorite set of sheets, I pick up my phone, unlocking the front screen. No missed messages or calls. “Humph,” I say to no one, refreshing Micah’s impressionable words to the forefront. My day was so busy; not once did I think about Talon or what he was or wasn’t doing. I’m

completely exhausted, and within two minutes of turning off my phone, I’m asleep.

The next day Maggie and I go shopping for bikinis. We take the Jeep to the mall and hit up several major stores, but we both find our perfect match at Victoria’s Secret. Well, a couple of perfect matches actually. Maggie’s holding a microscopic bikini up to her chest, posing as if she has it on, though there isn’t much to the metallic neon-green strings and triangles. “Eat your heart out, boys; we are gonna make these boys pop wood like pubescent teenagers hoping to lose their virginity. Breast is best!” She laughs and shimmies her shoulders, causing her full breasts to jiggle wildly.

I laugh and do a turn of my own, checking myself out in the mirror. My suit is a bright coral twisted bandeau top with a navy-blue glittered anchor in between my breasts. What sold me was the back. It’s sexy. Tiny strings lace together the two ends perfectly snugly, making my back look sinful and exposed in a corset style. The bottoms are also bright coral, but they have their own sex appeal. They call them cheeky, so the coverage in the back is practically nonexistent. The two sides of the suit are held together by dainty navy blue chains that play along each of my hips. My body is in the best shape it’s ever been in, and I have one person to thank for that. Too bad he won’t be getting the chance to see

this little number. We both walk out with two new suits and continue to shop for a few more hours. “You know Talon came by the house looking for you this morning.” Maggie says, eyeing my side of the vehicle. Yes? I think, swinging my head in her direction. I’m all ears, staying quiet so she can go on. “He was acting like his nerves were spun tight. Said he was there to pick you up. He tried to go into your bedroom, but I stood in front of your door, blocking him.” Oh my God. He was on the other side of my door this morning and I had no clue. “It was weird because he accused me of hiding something from him, except I had no idea what he was talking about.” We stopped

at a red light and she went on. “You could see his jaw get really tight, and he seemed like he wanted to take a swing at me.” Her forehead wrinkles between her eyebrows in confusion. “He has never let his anger come out like that around me before, and it scared the shit out of me, so I kicked his ass out.” I take a moment to catch my breath and my thoughts. Why would he get so pissed? “Screw virginity.” Maggie huffs. “Will you please just sleep with him already so he’ll leave you alone? God, I would be so stressed carrying that thing around all the time.” I’m appalled. “It’s not like I have the plague.”

“I know, babe, but I can guarantee that that would solve all your problems.” “Well, it’s not going to happen, so . . .” She drops the subject with a shrug for the rest of the ride home, but my mind is still mulling over the new development and how I should handle it. As much as I want to say I don’t care what Talon thinks, a big part of me does. Of course, I will never admit that to Maggie.

Finn: Get your fine asses over here.

We’re driving to the address he

texted us earlier, Maggie, me, and . . . well, we thought it would be nice to bring Micah, even though he’s not a smoking-hot girl. The house our GPS has us going to is situated down a private gated drive. Everything about it is grand and exquisite with its perfectly manicured landscaping, which only emphasizes the sleek styling of the massive home. We make our way through the parked cars, down a path, and around the side of the house, where we hear voices. The closer we get, the louder they get. There, at the end of the path, it opens up into a playful lake. I feel a wave of peace with the breeze, and a calm rushes over me as I inhale a lungful of warm summer air.

The noise of screaming girls interrupts my Zen moment when a ski boat cuts through the tranquil water, leaving its wake to crash into shore, soaking a small group. Several guys are doing back flips off the roof of the boathouse into the lake, but mainly everyone is just hanging out. I scan the crowd, not anticipating this big of a turnout, and with so much going on, I feel a bit intimidated. From behind, Finn squeezes between Maggie and me, wrapping an arm around each of our shoulders. “Sweet! You girls made it. You can set all your bags down in one of the empty bedrooms upstairs; go through that door,” he says, pointing with a finger. “Then come on back down

and get wet with us. Glad you could make it.” He removes his arms and gives both our adjacent butt cheeks a good smack, leaving us as fast as he came. Micah leans down and gathers our bags, moving towards the house. An odd tingling sensation comes over me, like someone is watching as a steady breeze blows wayward strands across my face. With a swipe of my hand, I brush the hair and odd feeling away, telling myself to forget about it and have a good time. I’m just out of my element. We make our way through the grand home to the second level where we quickly choose a room and change into our swimsuits. The heat warms my bones, waking

my spirit, making me happy I came. This is definitely another check mark on the list of experiences I’m up for. We take the stairs that descend from the porch to the infinity pool and hot tub, which that overlook the lake. Micah takes notice of a couple of ladies floating on rafts and hangs back. Finn is standing next to a glossy black ski boat docked in the sand, and when he catches sight of us, he flashes a goofy friendly smile and waves us over.

Talon I knew she’d be here and that’s why I came. Two days of silence has me walking in circles,

bored and lost in my maddened mind. She is my little dose of sanity. We didn’t part on good terms; then no word from her all day Sunday. I wanted to call her a hundred times throughout the day. I did my laundry and some of hers I found lying around, went to the grocery, and shined up the cars so we’d have something nice to drive in. It seems I’m turning into a pansyass loser. Monday morning I hoped to pick her up, expecting her to be fully recovered from whatever funk she was in, but it wasn’t a funk at all. She had another man in her bed. Immediately, I saw red again. My suspicion had me wanting to manhandle Maggie from in front of Lo’s door, kicking that cock face out on his ass, and claiming what’s mine: my best friend. How I acted Saturday was selfish and cruel. I’m learning to juggle all these new emotions when it comes to this girl. I want to, for her. At times, she plays the friends’ role very well, and in the beginning, that’s certainly all I wanted.

Well, I really just wanted to fuck her, but whatever. It’s such a strange revelation that I placed this one female on a pedestal and she doesn’t even care.

Finn’s voice jerks my attention to the path on the side of the house he was walking away from, and there she is. For a moment, I forget how to breathe. She is my kind of beautiful. Her sheer white cotton dress blows in the breeze kicking up around her amazing legs. With pure hunger, my eyes feast on her form, absorbing all that I’ve been starved of for the last two days. Her long hair is hand twisted loosely, draping over a shoulder, resting between her breasts in an effort to control it in the wind. A reposed smile frames her face as she catches the stray wild strand that broke

loose, and that’s when I see him. I don’t know who he is, but I immediately hate him. It makes me sick to think he knows her body better than I do. He’s had the privilege of wrapping her delicate body protectively close to his heart and kissing her soft pink lips till they’ve rosed over from affection. Or maybe that’s not how they are at all. Maybe they just fuck: no romance, no promises, just a good healthy cleaning of the pipes. God, I hope there’s no romance. Romance is a potently irresistible drug that instantly saturates all a woman’s nerve endings, flicking something in the brain that makes them want to go all Susie Homemaker and seek a mate. Shit, they’re mating alright. I hurt just thinking

about it. There I go, rubbing the center of my chest again. In that short time, I surgically dissect their every move. He stands close, but not too close. She knows he’s next to her but doesn’t care what he’s doing. No affectionate touches or fond smiles as she gives me. Thank fuck! I think I would have lost my shit in front of everyone. God knows I’m on the edge already. They disappear for fifteen minutes. For the longest fifteen minutes of my life, I don’t blink, don’t move. I stare at the back door of the house like a stalker waiting for her to reappear. “Sweet baby Jesus!” Time moves in slow motion, and I can’t keep those words from tripping off

my tongue. She’s hotter than any bitch you’ll find in any porn or sexy pinup magazine. Her lean body looks fucking incredible in a suit I envy. As Lo descends the stairs, the peanut gallery of assholes behind me lets loose a series of fucks, damns, and good Lords. I want to turn around and karate chop each one of those assholes in the throat, giving them something else to think about. For the next hour, I painstakingly watch from shore as Lo rides on the towable tube and asshole after asshole cops a feel every time Finn manhandles the boat, causing it to swing back and forth across the bumpy water. The longer I watch, the more pissed I get. At one point, two chicks come up to me and try

to get my attention. I have no idea what their faces look like and I don’t care, but I swat them away like the annoying gnats they are. My focus is elsewhere. After another damn hour, the boat finally idles up to the dock and lets a couple people off. I strain my eyes, praying one of those people is Lo, but sadly, to my dismay, it’s only Maggie. Damn you, Lo. Now she’s the only female on a boat full of guys. My chest is on fire and I rub it, digging my knuckles into that spot, willing it to ease off. I’m going to need a good cardiologist after all this is through. Maggie approaches, taking a seat in the recliner next to me. “Whew brother, I’m pooped,” she says, flopping down. Her boobs bounce with

her movement, and she adjusts the tiny metallic green top. “Thanks for texting me this address earlier.” “Yeah, no problem, I was hoping you’d come. I really want you to meet my brother Micah.” Her brother? Towel guy? How convenient. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to put us face-to-face; his face may not come out so lucky. I don’t want to encourage that idea, so I push up from the chair, giving Maggie a side glance. “I’m going to head inside and get another beer, you want anything?” If deep breathing doesn’t work, alcohol will. “Nah, I’m good. If I eat anything, I

might pop one of my flimsy strings.” I eye her lack of coverage, and usually that’d result in an instant boner, but lately my boners have been very selective. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate her efforts, but a woman doesn’t need fancy hundred-dollar lingerie or heavy makeup that makes her look like an exotic cat. Please, we think about sex all day everyday as if it’s man’s natural obligation to knock women up and continue the human race. “Good idea, wouldn’t want to make all the other chicks here jealous,” I say, looking down at her. Maggie just shrugs, watching the lake, and I head back inside. I need a break from my slow death.

Chapter 10 Lo Ouch! It hurts everywhere.

Maggie and I sit lakeside in blue plush recliners, enjoying the last bit of the descending afternoon sun. She rambles on about something I’m not following. My eyes are shut while I recover from the battle I just put my body through on the water. It hurts to move, as if I had been in a fight and lost.

One minute I’m squeezing my eyes together from the brightness of the sun, and the next a large shadow is cast over me. One curious lid peels open, focusing on a whole lot of sexy muscle. Talon. His silhouette glows like an angel descending from heaven, except this angel is a bad angel. He pulls off his sunglasses, charming me with his deep blue eyes as he holds out his hand. His rough voice is a bit unsteady but always confident. “Lo, will you come with me? . . . Please.” I should have known he’d be here. I exhale, taking a moment to stare at his big hand, knowing the body attached is drop-dead gorgeous and how he probably worked that girl over a couple

of nights ago with that same hand. The thought makes me angry, and I stand without accepting it, tensing at the jolt of pain in my muscles. It’s easier to keep things simple if we don’t touch. Touch is powerful. Look what ET did with that one finger or that guy on death row in The Green Mile. I mean come on. My response catches him off guard, and he rubs the sexy stubble on his jaw as I walk by. “Lo.” I keep walking. “Lo, wait up,” he yells, catching up to me, keeping my pace. “Are you mad at me? Yes, I’m pissed. “No, why?”

“Because I feel like you’re giving me the cold shoulder.” Okay, I am. I can’t help that. I’m a girl and we hold grudges. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, not looking at him. We walk to the far end of the yard, away from everyone, near a cluster of trees that’s supporting a swing. The swing is big, but Talon sits right next to me. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I take a couple of deep breaths to calm myself, wishing I grabbed my cover-up because right now I’m way too exposed and sitting way too close. This is what I get for getting involved with him. Minutes pass full of silence and Talon clears his throat, leaning a few inches forward to face me.

I avoid his gaze, looking out over the lake at everyone having a good time. He doesn’t need to know that he has to the power to hurt me. I don’t want to give him that. “First, I’d like to say you look absolutely beautiful. I can’t keep my eyes off you.” I roll my eyes at his words, disgusted, twisting my head to scan his face. The player never stops playing. It disgusts me how he thinks it’s okay to be with one person one night, forget about her, and then jump to someone else the next. God, I wish I had my cover-up. With one leg, he pushes off the soft grass, jiggling the chains above, creating a rhythmic swing of the chair.

When his knuckles gently stroke across my cheek, I startle and move away. Seeing my discomfort, Talon doesn’t try to touch me again. “Babe, you need to stay out of the sun. Your cheeks are getting red.” Or maybe that’s anger. More importantly, why does he even care? Still, I ignore him. “Lo, I’m sorry.” It’s the way his words come out that catches my attention. They sound wounded. He cups my cheek and successfully draws it back to him. “I’m sorry.” He says softer. His apology feels sincere, but if he can so easily hurt me without thought, who is to say he won’t down the road as well. We’re locked in a stare when his intense

eyes bounce once to my lips then back up. They bounce twice then back to my eyes; each time our faces draw closer. By the fourth time, we’re nearly touching. I reach out and press two fingers against his lips, halting his progress, shaking my head. I have to get off this swing. Digging my feet in the grass, I jump off, but Talon snags my wrist before I can get away. My eyes slide down the length of my arm to this broken man and I sigh. His gaze begs for forgiveness, using all his strength to say he’s sorry. He doesn’t say it very often, but when he does, he means it. I can’t stay mad at him; he does the puppy dog look so well. But it’s only fair to tell him how he hurt me, even if it does make me

seem like a jealous girlfriend. Which I’m not. “You want the truth?” He nods. Here it comes. “I’m not your girlfriend, and I can’t tell you what to do, but I am your friend, and the way you dabble in women is gross. I’m sad for you because, when you really find the one who truly matters, you’ll regret all the others that came before her.” His eyebrows pull together, and he stands, standing taller than me. “What women?” I sigh and roll my eyes, snagging my hand back. He must have fallen and bumped his head because the boy has amnesia. “What women? Really? Okay, for

instance, the drunk girl who came into your bedroom while we were talking Saturday night.” I wait. His face scrunches up and he shrugs. “What about her? I never touched her.” “Really? You’re saying you didn’t have sex with her? Because you sure made it sound like it was definite.” “No, I didn’t.” I give him a disbelieving stare. “I sent her home in a taxi. She was a sloppy mess after I got off the phone with you.” All my tension releases with his declaration, making me strangely happy. I feel so immature now that I brought it up. I try to stop it, try to stop my lips from smiling, but I can’t, so I try to hide it instead. Talon notices. He notices

everything and curls an arm around my waist, pulling me closer, smiling, his mood lightening before my eyes. “What? What’s that funny look you’re giving me?” That only makes me smile more and gently paw at his chest to break free. Though I don’t try hard, I like where I’m at. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He catches my chin in his hand, forcing my attention back to his suddenly serious face. “Now tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about.” My pores blush. I have to get control of myself. “Friends?” I say, resetting boundaries again. “You know you’re the only girl I

want,” he coos, deathly serious, not breaking his stare. I shove him, breaking loose and walking away backwards, stuttering nervously. “Stop it. Now you’re being stupid.” He follows, seriously concentrating on me with an intimidating look. A carnal look. A look that doesn’t say “friends.” He continues to close in; his size makes me feel smaller by the minute. “You’ll always be my friend.” He moans, grazing his teeth over his bottom lip still stalking me. I love when he does that; it drives me crazy to watch his flesh blanch and fill back up with blood. I bite my lip, fantasizing about licking and nibbling playfully at his. I

shouldn’t think this way, but my heart starts to race, and his playful mood is making me nervous. “Do you remember the last time you bit that beautiful lip? I warned you.” I see it in his eyes before it happens. “TALON, DON’T!” I yell, bracing myself with extended arms to stop him. His mischievous smile grows just as he rushes me, effortlessly picking me up and over his shoulder, ass high, feet dangling in front. “Put me down!” I yelp, tickling his hips with my hands in the hopes I’ll hit the spot and he’ll set me free. I do. He does a little wiggle spiny dance to shake my hands loose. My arms and legs swing about; the world turns to a blur. His

punishing hand comes down across my barely covered behind, delivering two not-so-gentle spanks. Next, he softly rubs the burning area, taking off running towards the lake. I try to yell. I try scream, but the bouncing keeps all oxygen out of my lungs. His large hand is back, coasting under the material covering my bottom, fully cupping the left cheek that is on fire. That big pinkie finger repeatedly brushes along my slit, teasing to take a dip inside. Every bump, every jostle it rubs. Everything in my line of sight is shaken up, and I have no idea where we are. Then I hear fast hollow footsteps beating off the wooden planks of the dock, and presto, we’re airborne.

Weightless, only for a minute. SPLASH! I come back up, flopping around on the surface, pushing my hair out of my face. Talon’s laughter is all I can hear. “That’s it, Baylor. Your ass is grass. Watch your back because revenge is mine.” His smile grows bigger than ever at my threat. He swims up to me, but I push him away, hauling myself out and walking back towards the house. A low groan rumbles from behind me, and I peek over my shoulder at Talon standing a couple feet back, eyes locked on the perfectly rosy outlined handprint on my left butt cheek. “That is fucking sexy!” He practically moans, transfixed on that spot

in pure caveman satisfaction. Me? I’m appalled. I rub over it a couple of times as if I can brush it away. “Sexy? You’re not going to think it’s sexy when a girl kicks your ass,” I challenge, encroaching on his space, randomly jabbing a little finger into his stone abs, pecs, and hips, and making him laugh while he blocks each one. I’m doomed when he catches both of my wrists in a tight pull. “Oh, yeah, well, I’m pretty certain this is one fight I can win.” He draws one of my wrists to his mouth and takes a bite out of the delicate skin from the underside. I draw in a sharp pull of air, getting turned on from having his mouth on me.

“You know I’ve been training, and I have the power to bring a person to his knees,” I brag, tugging at his grip. His smile is nothing short of cocky. “Really! That’s wild because I have that same superpower.” I pause and pull back, scrunching up my nose. Yuck. Talon took that moment to pay back what I did to him earlier. Tickling fingers attack, sparking a flare of giggles. I curl myself into a ball, blocking my ribs and hips, but his hands are too big. Laughing so hard I can barely breathe, barely stand, I feel my legs give and my body crumple into him. He gives me a minute to catch my breath, holding me up. Except being pressed skin to skin isn’t helping; it’s too much.

Our skin is hot, and I can feel every contour, every bulge. Yes, even that one; that one isn’t hard to miss. One of his hands swipes across my shoulders, pushing away my hair, exposing my ear. His mouth moves so close I can feel his lush lips whisper the words around its rim, and each syllable funnels into my ear canal. “Beg me, Lo. Beg me to stop. Tell me to let you go.” I let the last couple laughs trickle out, and then we both become very still. Only our strong attraction moves through us. I don’t want him to let me go. I would beg if things were different, but they’re not. I still have my issues and insecurities that threaten me. They’re hard to control when Talon sometimes

blankets them and at other times fuels them. Calmly, I break free of his hold and walk away. I have to walk away from this, from him. The reality is making me uneasy, knowing he thinks of this as a game. I wish he wouldn’t say those things to me. His attempts to flirt are damaging and certainly don’t lie in the friend territory. “Lo, where are you going?” He throws his hands out. Away from you. “I’m just going to head in; I’m feeling overheated. I think I need a drink.” Maybe it’s the crazy cocktail of emotions or maybe it’s too much sun. Regardless, I avoid him for quite some time after that.

The sun is completely down, and we haul out sheets and comforters from the house, anything we can sprawl out on to watch the impressively sketchy variety show of fireworks the boys are setting off over the water. I drink and drink some more, until my liver is as drunk as my brain. Maggie can always drink me under the table then function freakishly normal the next morning. I don’t have another run-in with Talon since our earlier encounter, and a part of me wants to curse him for shaking up my day to unwind and have a little fun. Subconsciously, I keep tabs on him, needing to see if my opinion means anything or if he’s moved on because I didn’t fall for his words that I wish were real. But now the alcohol has sedated me enough to where I don’t care if he’s gone or how pretty that exploding ball of powder is above me.

Maggie, a few others, and I are lying on our backs. Maggie is singing the “Star Spangled Banner” at the top of her lungs, her right hand over her heart. The two girls at my feet are laughing hysterically, and I’m a pile of feathers: completely relaxed, ready to blow away.

Amongst the chaos, it doesn’t bother me one iota when Talon sneaks up behind me, lifts my head, and positions it to rest in his lap. Why thank you. Your lap is way more comfortable than this hard ground. He pulls the rubber band from my hair and gently brushes his fingers through its length, twirling it about. I couldn’t stop him if I tried, so I watch the sky and let Talon blatantly watch me. His hand lightly runs over my cheek and caresses the span of my throat until he reaches the notch at the bottom.

Slightly squeezing, he restricts my air but not completely. Lazily, my eyes find his, and a palpable sense of trust surfaces. I don’t know why I’m having a sudden change of heart, but it feels natural. I’ll surrender. He draws that hand back up over the side of my neck and back to the side of my face. His breathing is sporadic, and a worry line I never noticed has appeared between his brows. Then the sky detonates in a siege of colors, and a downpour of sparkles appears bigger as it mirrors off the glass surface of the lake. It takes a tenth of a second for the brain to perceive what’s happening around you, but in my case, two seconds

is more fitting. I lose sight but not sound of the show as the best set of hands frames my face and the best set of lips takes my lips in an upside-down kiss. What’s in a kiss you ask? Well I’m pretty sure one component is firework powder. His kiss is sure and slow with just the right amount of pressure, and it makes my head spin. My body vibrates with every boom, my heart bangs against my chest wall, and the dull ache in my core instinctively throbs. With the final explosion, our lips hesitantly part, and my head rises slightly from his lap in an effort to catch his mouth again, but I’m too slow. Cheers and a round of applause erupt all around us, neither one

of us breaking the other’s bound stare. I don’t want to move, but then I feel something. It’s not a good something but a bad something. Like the contents of my stomach wanting to expel. Cautiously, I sit up, and a wave of nausea hits me as I support myself with one hand on the ground and rest the other on my unsteady stomach while blowing out a slow breath. Maggie immediately notices and crouches down, pulling my hair out of my face. “Are you okay? You’re not looking so hot. Maybe you should head home. Want me to drive you?” she says, slurring every word. My body lurches with the need to vomit, but I quickly press my fingers

over my lips. “NO! I’ll take her home, Mags. You can barely hold your head up.” She has no room to argue and doesn’t try. Maggie smears a wet kiss on my cheek and turns to Talon, giving him a military salute good-bye. He wraps his arm tightly around my waist and helps me to his truck. With every step I take, I’m reminded of the ache in my muscles and the looming need to vomit perched in the back of my throat. Just hurry. His truck makes it unscathed. The hall of the condo makes it as well, but the bathroom isn’t so lucky. Talon stays close. After holding my hair back while I puke, he cleans me up with a warm

moist washrag from the closet, medicates me, and artfully transfers me into a pair of soft pajamas he finds in my dresser. With gentle hands, he tucks me into bed. “Talon?” I say through chattering teeth. “Will you turn off the fan? I’m so c-c-cold.” “Baby, the fan is off.” Oh. The bed moves, and I shiver as the covers lift and cold air hits my skin. Suddenly, it feels like a ball of fire has jumped in bed with me. I didn’t know fire could feel so good. He isn’t wearing much except boxers, so every inch of hot flesh connects, searing mine. With my head perfectly tucked under his chin, he wraps his toasty arms around my tiny

frame, encapsulating my body. The heat feels amazing. My eyes close as a comfortable moan leaves my lips, and my teeth stop chattering. “Shhh.” He soothes as he holds me close, gently stroking my hair. “Just rest. I’ll take care of you.” A weak tear trickles down my cheek into my hair at the thought of someone concerned enough to take care of me. Those words alone feel as if they can heal me. My I’m-okay mask slips, and some more of my vulnerability leaks out in the form of tears. I’ll take any affection I can get, even though it will make pushing him away that much harder in the morning.

Little do I know I won’t have to. From his tender words, I figure he’d still be here, but the next morning, he treats me like all his other cheap dates and is gone. No note, no text, no hey, see you next Tuesday . . . nothing.

My head is pounding like someone is jackhammering in my skull. Carefully, I turn my head and notice the glass of water and two tiny pills sitting next to it. I start to remember bits and pieces, but a lot of holes in my memory remain. Once again, I feel humiliated. I allowed my naïve psyche to control me, to open myself up, to wish for something with a promise. This whole Talon issue is one big continual slap in the face.

Two knocks come from my door, and Maggie slips in, seeing I’m awake. She’s wearing an oversized worn T-shirt with “Coffee is my lover” printed on the front, coffee in hand, and fuzzy white bunny bedroom slippers dusting our hardwood floors. She sits on the bed with me, crossing her legs at her ankles, blowing into her mug. “How are you feeling today?” I roll towards her, inhaling the creamy aroma, noticing that I don’t feel like vomiting. We must be good. “I’m fine except for my head.” “Were you okay with Talon last night?” I think about that and slowly sit up, shrugging my shoulder. “Yeah, I’m still

alive, so something went right.” “Huh.” I keep quiet while she takes a pull from her coffee. “What happened? Why didn’t he stay?” “I wish I knew.” “He’s a bastard! I should have taken you home myself, and I’m sorry I left you with him.” “No, you did nothing wrong and you couldn’t have.” I pause, looking down. “He was actually perfect.” “Yeah, until he did his disappearing act.” I flinch at her blow and Maggie notices. “Honey, I’m sorry. You’re falling for the man whore.” It isn’t a question, but she is spot on. This singular question has been bouncing around in my head since the

day I met Talon. I have to ask her, hoping her answer will somehow make me want him less. “Maggie? “Yeah?” “Have you . . . umm . . .” I don’t know how to ask her, but I’m suddenly nervous and fumbling with the tail end of my sheet. “Have you and Talon . . . you know . . .?” A mist of coffee dusts over my sheets, and I shield myself from being sprayed. When I lower my blanket past eye level, she is staring keenly. “I was hoping you were never going to ask me, but since you brought it up, I think we should talk.” Shit, I shouldn’t have asked. “I changed my mind. I know the answer

already.” “No, you need to hear this from me.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “After I moved down here, I started hanging out with some girls from school. We had a really hard bundle of finals one term and worked our asses off to ace all of them, so you can imagine how spent we were afterward. That night we drove around, searching for something to do, including men, when we happened to drive past a house overflowing with people and loud music. We figured no one would give two shits if we snuck in and drank a little free booze, so we did. The night progressed. I was horny and feeling pretty. I stepped out into the backyard and spotted a fine group of sexy-ass men

in a circle, getting high. I didn’t even think. I just went. Talon happened to be the one I sidled up to. I mean, God, you can’t fault me. His hands are so big, he’s a bad ass, and those eyes could split you in two, though that night they were really dilated. From what he’s told me, I worked my body over him like he was a stripper pole and practically begged him to pop the pussy. My words, not his.” She stops and rubs her temples. “How embarrassing.” Now that she has my attention, I kind of want her to keep talking but figure I already know the direction this story is moving in. “It’s fine. I don’t need to know anymore.” “No. You need to hear the rest.”

Ahh, kill me now. Figuring I have no other choice, I rest my head against my headboard and prepare for the explosion. Literally. “We ditched the party in the backyard, and he hauled me through the house up the stairs to a bedroom door. I thought this was it. I was about to have my mind blown. But instead of kicking it open, throwing me on the bed, and ravishing me, he knocked twice and waited. I could barely stand still when the door open to a good-looking, barechested guy. They didn’t exchange any words. Talon just gave me a slight push on the back and in I stumbled. Chestie, that’s what I called him all night, among other things”—Maggie stops again and

she bites on her bottom lip to stop from smiling—“did some pretty impressive acrobatics with me. It was fucking Cirque du Soleil up in that shit. The next morning I left, walking funny and buzzing like static electricity was running through me. No one has been able to touch that performance since.” Wow, she never had sex with Talon. The tension in my chest releases, but now I want to know who this powerful sexy orgasm god is. “So do you talk to this guy anymore?” I ask, leaning in closer, needing to know. Maggie nods. “Yes, quite often actually.” “And?” “And now we keep our silent hook-

ups our dirty little secret.” A glimmer of sadness hides out behind her pupils as she speaks with her index finger pressed to the center of her lips. Maggie sets her mug on the nightstand and tucks her ankles up under her. “What I’m trying to say is do what makes you happy because if you never put yourself in the path of the bad, you’ll never stumble upon all the good.” In my mind, I scroll through the weeks and weeks that make up months of some of the best times, and oddly enough, they were all with Talon. Good times. Great times! “Lo”—Maggie waits until I look at her, and I do—“I know how you feel, and you don’t have to pretend.” I hate

her words and each bit of truth I dissect from them. “You can’t hide your feelings for long. Let them breathe, give them meaning, and stop thinking you’re going to disappoint me. I’m not your parents.” The mention of them spikes a round of tears. My parents are probably looking down on me now and shaking their heads. Why can’t I fall for someone normal, settled, simple like Micah? Talon is a shaky choice and it frightens me. I can’t afford to choose the wrong person to love and live with the risks that come with his lifestyle. Maggie leans over and hugs me. Her arms feel good. “Shit, Lo, I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just want to see you happy, and for some bizarre reason, I see

that he makes you happy.” I draw my knees up close to my body and rest my head on them, taking in a shaky breath. I guess I can try. I’m going to try to let him in. Take a chance. And if it doesn’t work, well, I’ll know he isn’t my guy, and hopefully, it will lead me to the one who is. She hugs me one last time and gets up off of my bed. “Now get rid of this funky-ass mood because you’re really sparking off some real negative mojo around here.” Her smile is all sweet. I wipe my eyes in my sheets and force a smile in the hope it will change my mood. I can’t bum around the house all day. I need to head up to the college to register for my classes and check out

the campus. I’m excited that in a little over a month I will finally start my second round of classes. I don’t know what I want to become, but just like everything else, I’ll figure it out as I go.

Getting ready, I pull on a white blueembroidered short-sleeved Boho top and a pair of frayed cutoff jean shorts. I slide several leather bracelets on my wrist and pull on my comfiest cowboy boots. Next, I fix my face. My eyes are red and slightly puffy, so I blot some concealer under them, give my cheeks and eyelashes a few swipes of blush and mascara, and complete it with a coat of pink lip gloss to my plump lips. Perfect. Well, at least the outer shell is.

The college is busy, but I don’t have any trouble enrolling in any of my classes. My work load consists of College Algebra, College Composition, Psychology, and an easy-A art class. After leaving the main office, I tour the grounds, taking in the colonial-style buildings blended with modern architecture. The campus is humming with students’ excitement. Pockets of lush vegetation and shade trees make for perfect study spots throughout, reminding me of a beautiful park back home called Tranquil Shades I used to visit often. Heath and I even got busted for making out and stargazing after park hours. Thank God the cop was a friend of Daddy’s and he let us off with just a

warning. Dad never found out about that one. The longer I walk around, the more excited I get. I check out the cafeteria, and I hit up the bookstore. With a small fortune in hand, I walk back across campus, passing numerous booths for clubs and groups to join. I figure I have enough on my plate for now and steer clear. With the bus stop just outside the edge of campus, I’m starting to rethink my night writing class. I’ll have to ask Maggie to take me, or eventually, I’ll need to buy a car. A nighttime mugging really doesn’t fit into my busy schedule.

Later that evening, I get a text. Talon: What r u doin?

I toss the hand full of peanut M&Ms into my mouth and text back. Lo: Reading smut. U? Talon: Missing my friend, want some company?

I take a minute to think it over. I’m giving him a chance, I remind myself. What the hell. The only person here to talk to is Diddy, and he’s licking his balls spread eagle in front of me right now. Lo: ok

Talon: Good

Not even a second later a knock comes from the front door. No way, I think, craning my neck in that direction. I toss my e-reader to the side, causing Diddy to pause mid-lick and watch while my bare feet take me to the front hallway. With the swing of the door, there he stands, smolderingly handsome; it takes my breath away. “Tada,” Talon says, clearly proud, inviting himself in. I give my head a slight shake, feeling lightheaded from his sudden nearness, and walk back to the couch. Talon follows, picking up my Kindle and taking the seat next to me. “Ooo, Lo, you naughty girl, this is

some dirty stuff,” he says, eyeing the page I’m on. A pink flush crawls across my cheeks, and I leap at him to snatch the ereader away, but he holds his arm out, keeping me back. “Uh, uh, uh, sit back and relax. I’m gonna read you a story.” No way! I leap again, but he predicts my moves, raising the device even higher. My head lands in his lap, facing his stomach, and he holds me down easily with his forearm as I squirm to break free. Unfazed, he begins reading. “Gaylord loved Shanaynay and couldn’t take it any longer. Spreading her large skinfolds wide, he stuck his subpar member in, only to elicit a tiny moan.” My body stills at his glorious voice;

then like a damn we break out in hysterics. Our laughter bounces off the walls, and he tosses the Kindle to the table. Maggie is right. I haven’t laughed this much in a long time. Our laughter cools and turns into big smiles for each other. He stares down at me and I stare right back at him. With passing seconds, his mood suddenly turns serious. “Is that what you want, Lo? Romance? A rich man to sweep you off your feet? A happily ever after?” There’s not a trace of humor in his voice. My smile disappears along with our carefree moment. “No,” I softly say and I mean it. I don’t need all that. I want someone who wants to hold my hand

when I’m scared or pauses his favorite show so I can tell him about my day. I want to make love to someone who loves me. That’s my happily ever after. His hands move. One cups my outer hip, snugging us closer together while the other gently pushes my hair back. His touch is warm and feels so good. I take a deep breath in, filling my lungs, and feel peace spread through me in a warm rush. My eyes slide close and a low hum slips from my lips. Stroke after stroke, he scratches his nails over my scalp, popping goose bumps up all over. I don’t want his fingers to stop. It’s easier to allow him to take things to the next step if I don’t know when to stop him. “I’m sorry I had to leave you last night.”

I don’t care; don’t stop. “Mm, no, I appreciate all that you did. I didn’t expect you to sleep over.” Actually, I did. The hand stops. I wait. Eyes softly closed, I can see shadows moving from behind my lids but can’t make out what is happening. Anticipation wreaks havoc, sloshing my stomach acids around. With a light hand, he clutches my chin, resting his thumb delicately up the center of my lips. Peppermint breaths brush across me in short little pants, and it makes me smile to see I affect him in that way. I want to look up and watch him, to search his soul for what I so desperately crave. It doesn’t take long to recognize the reality of where this is

heading, I’m growing anxious under his tender touch, and it is taking superhuman strength to not reach up and claim him with a kiss. I want many, many more. Ever so slightly, I part my lips letting the tip of my tongue graze the pad, tasting his salty skin. Talon sucks in a deep breath through his teeth and I wait. His wet thumb brushes across my pink flesh and I wait. My heart is going to need reviving from beating so erratically after this, but still, I wait. Then his thumb disappears, leaving my lips cold and lacking. I still don’t open my eyes. I wait. After a few heated beats, his touch returns, only it isn’t him at all. A hard but smooth candy-coated shell glides in

the center of my lips, working them into a smile. My slick tongue reaches out and captures it from his fingers, and a light laugh vibrates his chest and warms mine. Chocolate is a girl’s best friend, but chocolate is even better when your best friend is feeding it to you. After all that time and still no kiss, I finally allow my eyes to take in the man who’s slowly stealing tiny pieces of my heart. “Lo?” “Mmm hmm,” I hum nervously. He takes a deep breath and holds it like he’s going to tell me something, but stops and ends up exhaling that used breath slowly. “Do you . . .?” His mood shifts and he speaks with a charming smile. “Do you want another M&M?” Tempting me, he holds a green M&M up

between his fingers. I’m disappointed that that’s the question, but also very relieved. My mouth opens in invitation and I wait for the small treat. Very gradually, Talon brings it down, barely touching my lips, resting the sweet bait at my entrance, and waits. Just before my tongue reaches out to capture the green candy, he swiftly retracts it, popping it into his mouth. What the . . .? I flinch back and my mouth drops open completely, shocked. The candy was there one minute and gone the next. He seems to find that completely hilarious, pressing his hand to his chest and jostling my head in his lap. “That’s just mean.” I pretend to sound hurt.

He pipes down the laughter and pipes up the innocence. “Oh, you wanted that one?” he asks, pointing to his mouth swallowing the candy down in a gulp. I’m too busy watching the muscles in his throat work to care. Frowning, I glare up at him. “Well, here, let me get you another one.” Talon leans over and plucks a blue chocolate from the dish. I hold perfectly still as he perches it on the rim of my lips. Just as I go to take a bite, he pulls it back and pops it into his mouth again. My shocked and disbelieving expression has him throwing his head back, laughing uncontrollably. His silliness is infectious, and I pinch my lips together to keep from laughing. I love the timbre

of his voice, so full of danger and sin. This calls for revenge; I have to defend the two M&Ms I lost in battle. “You big ogre, that one was for me.” I huff, getting up, straddling his pronounced hips, and grabbing a hold of his wrists, wrestling them apart. Holding tight, I tilt my face up to his. My blue M&M is being held hostage between his treacherous lips, taunting me, begging to be saved. His arms fight back, complicating the rescue. I bob and swerve. “Give me the candy!” “Never!” He mumbles around the chocolate. All of a sudden a loud crash echoes from my bedroom. My body jumps with the racket, and I wrap my arms around

his neck and coil against him. Talon rotates on the couch and protectively shields me with his body. His posture’s alert, serious, face tense. “We’re the only ones here, right?” I nod a tense yes. Talon delicately unfolds my body from his, leaving me on the couch. “Stay here. I’m going to check to see what that was.” “I want to come with you.” “NO!” His voice is protective and firm, his eyes meaning it. I pull my legs back up, tucking myself into a ball, knowing better than to fight. Quietly Talon slowly tiptoes sideways down the hall, meeting my door and pushing it open, stepping out of view. After some heavy minutes of

silence, I can’t take it any longer. I sneak down the hall, and just as I’m stepping in front of my door, Diddy rushes out of the blackness, releasing a mean primal meow, bolting between my legs. My heart stops and I practically jump out of my skin. “Stupid cat,” I spit, reaching down, throwing a squeaky mouse at him. I’m starting to hate him. Carefully, I step inside, trying to pick out anything that is out of place. The door to the bathroom is cracked open, spilling a sliver of light into the bedroom. I walk up to it and push the door open. Holy—! An overpowering wall of perfume hits me, and I use my sleeve to cover my nose as the floral aroma dominates the tiny

room. Talon is kneeling next to the sink, picking chunks of glass up off the floor and tossing them in the tiny garbage can next to the toilet. With the creak of the hinges, he looks over his shoulder. “Stay back! I don’t want you cutting yourself,” he says, holding his hand out. “What happened?” “Damn Diddy must have liked your bra straps and ended up knocking over your bottle of perfume on the counter.” The smell is starting to get to me. At one point it had been my favorite scent, but now it sickens my senses, burning my nose and lungs. I take it back. I really hate that cat. That perfume was expensive. Cough, cough, cough. “I can’t”—

cough, cough—“do it.” Cough, cough. I want to help him, but Talon waves me away, and I park my ass on the couch with a glass of water until he resurfaces ten minutes later, trash bag in hand knotted at the neck. “All clean, but I don’t wash cats. Your mangy lion is going to need a bath. He reeks of a garden of flowers.” “I’ll make sure Maggie gets right on that.” On the table next to me, Talon’s phone starts ringing. He quickly walks over and snatches it up, checking the screen and silencing it. “Walk me out?” he says, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Sure.” Narrowing my eyes, I

gradually get up and follow him to the front door. “Eight o’clock tomorrow I’ll pick you up?” he says with his hand on the knob. “That’s fine.” He leans down and places a kiss to the tip of my nose. I move back for him to open the door, and he steps out, leaving me to wonder who is so important calling that he left at the drop of a hat.

Chapter 11 Lo It was the night Talon won that big race that I knew what I wanted to get him for his birthday. I immediately contacted Sasha, knowing she would be the best person to help. I gave her all the supplies, and she had the perfect person piece everything together. Driving with a heavy foot, I’m now on my way to her shop to pick up the finished product. It was tricky shaking Talon off after our morning workout, but I blamed it on having to help Micah search for an

apartment. He seemed to buy it but didn’t look pleased. I promised to text him when I got home and gave him no other choice.

The front of Lady Parts is busy as I pull outside one of the bay doors, spotting Sasha squatting down next to an intimidating chopper. She looks bad-ass sexy wearing a mechanic’s jumpsuit, the top half hanging open and a black Harley Davidson tank peeking out the top. Her raven hair hangs perfectly straight down her back, and her bangs are pulled back under a red bandana that matches her cherry lips. With the slam of my car door, she looks up and sweetly smiles, wiping her hands on a grease-stained rag. “Hey, Lo.” “Hey,” I say, walking up to her.

“You are gonna love what my upholstery lady cooked up. It’s sick! Follow me. I’ll show you.” The smell of rubber and gasoline is strong in the air, along with the music of power tools. We walk under cars on lifts, to an area that is lined with scorching red metal tool cabinets faced in fancy diamond-plated coverings. Sasha opens one of her many rows of drawers and pulls out a box, handing it over to me. “There it is. Open it.” I lift the cardboard flaps, exposing Talon’s gift. “Oh my God, it’s perfect!” I smile, removing it from the box, and finger the complicated stitching. The beautiful piece is a mixture of creamy worn leathery textures stitched together

in a marble of tans, dark browns, and blacks. The scent of the rich leather smells soft yet has a hint of masculinity. “Sasha, this turned out better than I imagined. Thank you!” “Don’t mention it, chick.” “You’ll be there Saturday, won’t you?” “I wouldn’t miss it.”

When I arrive back at the condo, the funny thing is Micah actually does need a condo-shopping buddy. My schedule is already clear, so I accept. Turns out I’m not a liar after all. We call Maggie to see if she wants to go, but she’s stacked up with clients all afternoon. So off we go, just the two of us.

Micah drives us around in his black Range Rover SUV, his little gift to himself for making partner at Sheridan, Upton, and Butz, a well-known law firm just inside the city limits. Micah’s realtor is nice enough to set up several locations to check out. The first stop is a two-bedroom, two-bath condo in the city that’s within walking distance to his work. The fifteen-story high-end contemporary condominium is brand new. Everything sparkles with the bite of fresh paint and new carpet in the air. The unit has an open floor plan with a formal foyer that leads to a large recessed living room overlooking a small park. The whole place looks so clinical, so sterile that surgery could be

performed right on the living room floor. “So, what do you think?” I ask, my wedges clicking the cold marble as I walk to stare out the floor-to-ceiling glass wall. “Umm, I think the right person could breathe some life into this place, but for the price, it’s not what I’m looking for.” “Okay.” Without hesitation, I grab Micah’s hand, pulling him out the front door. The second stop is a two-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bath home that is thirty minutes from the condo Maggie and I share. The realtor refers to it as a fixer upper that just needs some TLC. This home is going to need a lot more than TLC, more like a wrecking ball. The

faded blue home sits at the far end of a mostly brown yard. Weeds choke the garden areas around the front door and grow out of the gutters. And that’s only the outside. That should have been our cue to leave, but we go in anyway. Mustardyellow dingy carpets run throughout the house, holding the strong odor of cigarettes and ground-in dirt. Loud tacky wallpaper loosely hangs from busted walls, peeling away around the corners of the room. Anything of any value has been taken. The house has been stripped of all ceiling fans, appliances, shelving in closets; even the air conditioning unit has been removed from the outside. I’m walking back into the house from

the garage when Micah gives me the funniest look. “Lo, hold still! You have a roach on you,” Micah says, slowly inching towards me. Just let me tell you . . . I. Don’t. Do. Roaches. I freak out. My legs crazy dance frantically, hoping to knock it off. I jerk in circles, my hands swatting and ripping at my clothes. “Did I get it? Did I get it?” I shout, holding still to examine my form. My heart is beating a hundred miles an hour. Micah laughs, doubled over, his voice echoing off the bare walls. Through heavy pants and frazzled nerves, I shoot Micah a look that says I wish had the power to throw roaches on

him. “Lo, Lo . . .” he barely can say, pointing to my ankles. I feel the creepy tickle the second he says something. “Ahhhh” explodes from my lips; I’m kicking and screaming through the living room and swatting at my legs. “This shit is too much! Meet me in the car when you’re done!” I complain, shoving open the rickety front door and knocking it off its hinges. My skin crawls, and I can’t shake the heebie-jeebies; it feels like they’re still crawling on me. Gross! Micah follows me out seconds later, openly hysterical at my discomfort, but I don’t care as I uneasily flee to the cleanliness of the Range Rover.

The third and final stop is a threebedroom, two-and-a-half bath home perched atop a hill that overlooks a small serene lake. The exterior is weather-beaten and neglected. Nothing major though. Not like the last house. A graceful, free-flowing entry way greets us, drawing us in deeper to a panoramic living room overlooking a picturesque pool oasis. The interior has old world charm, which includes builtin bookcases, detailed molding, and tons of natural lighting throughout. A spacious home office and recently renovated kitchen make this place too good to be true. Both of us are awestruck, looking across the vast backyard. “Well, Mic, what about this

one?” “I don’t know, Lo. It doesn’t come with a colony of roaches, so I won’t be able to invite you over.” He peeks at me from the corner of his eye, and a handsome smile tickles his lips. That deserves a shove, but he catches me in a hug around the shoulders. “What do you say I decide later and we go get something to eat now? I stumbled across this awesome burger place a couple of days ago, and you gotta try it.” “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Talon I could easily become addicted to this feeling. Her smooth body fits perfectly between my muscular thighs. The purrs and hums deep within drive my possessive hands seductively over every curve. I grip her tighter, controlling our speed. This dominant red-blooded male is completely in control, appreciating her tempting beauty, and using her for what she is made for: a release to take my mind off everything. One last jerk and virile sparks ricochet up and down my very core.

Placing her in park at the curb and popping the kick stand, I swing my jeanclad leg over Sasha’s mean black Harley. My Mustang is up at Lady Parts being tweaked for this weekend, and Stone ran out of a few parts. I’m greeted by Tim with the chime of

the door. He’s a great guy. He’s worked at the parts store forever and has more knowledge than most seasoned mechanics. We shoot the shit, he hooks me up, and I’m out. As I’m clicking my black skull Boneyard helmet in place under my chin, the mouthwatering spice of burgers has me seeking out the new restaurant across the street. My stomach decides it’s hungry, and I’m sure some of the guys at the shop haven’t eaten all day either. I’ll be a saint and bring them a sack. Popping off my helmet, holding it against my hip, I step off the curb and wait for traffic to clear, when my sight catches something I really don’t want to see. I know she’s out with him, but it feels like a knife in my soul to see Lo

enjoying another man’s company. My normal breathing grows more ragged with each inhalation. Time freezes while I disgustingly watch Lo and the assclown enjoying a meal outside on the shaded patio. A pleasant breeze rolls through, but I don’t take notice because my temper is burning red hot. Their relationship appears effortless, easy, and her facial features stay smooth with her chin resting on her fist, dropping warm smiles while he talks. She is beautiful. He, on the other hand, looks like he still has Cupid’s arrow still poking from his ass. His reactions when she speaks and his bright smiles scream he is crazy about her. What man wouldn’t be? Lo leans slightly

forward to him when he beckons with a grimy finger. Then, like he has the right, the creep uses his napkin to wipe something off her perfect lips. My lips. My feet move. I can’t stop them. I’m going to lay this pushy fucker out and take her away. He isn’t nearly as cut as I am and appears to weigh twenty pounds less. Hell, why do you think I go to the gym with her. It’s not because she needs the personal training. Fuck no! Her body is perfection! My ravaged mind propels me without thought of repercussions; I’m not even checking for oncoming cars. The godsend of Tim’s urgent voice calling stops my progress and saves me from nearly being killed by a delivery truck

speeding by. It skims past so closely I swear it touches my nose, the baritone horn wakes me further, and the driver flicks me the angry one-finger salute as he passes. I’ve always had respect for other vehicles on the road; I know the power that lives under the hood and know the importance of being responsible enough to control it. I always respect the road, but today something has gotten into me. “Talon buddy, are you okay?” Tim asks, placing a hand on my tense shoulder. I take a choppy breath through my nose, willing my rage to cool, though I’m still a little shaken up. “Here, you left a bag of spark plugs

on the counter.” I look down and notice my hands carry a slight tremor. How did I allow myself to get to this point of addiction? This new crazy me is freaking me the fuck out. Women served one purpose before Lo, and now nothing is satisfying. I’m fighting for something I haven’t had, and I’m morphing into someone I’m unfamiliar with. I mean, hell, I’ve only kissed her twice, touched her every chance I get, and jacked off more than I can count. Sure I’m a little domineering and I lose my temper every so often, but she seems to intensify it tenfold. I push hard, rubbing my eyes with my empty hands and thank him for the plugs. I need to figure out what I’m doing. Do I go

back to easy carefree Talon or play the game of life with Lo?

Lo Feeling carefree and optimistic, I’m shaking my ass around my room, listening to “Bailando” by Enrique Iglesias. It’s Talon’s birthday weekend. I’m excited for him and anxious to give him my gift. My ring tone cuts the music off to my phone, causing me to halt mid-spin. I dive for it, answering before it goes to voicemail. “Hey, Talon, what’s up?” I ask, lying on my stomach, out of breath.

“What have you been doing? You’re breathing funny.” I giggle at his normal words and release a long sigh. “Ahh, just being

silly.” His tone is chiseled and serious. “Right . . . drive with me tonight? We need to talk.” The joyful mood I had minutes ago slowly evaporates into a cloud of dust. No conversation is ever good that ends with we need to talk. “Sure . . . is everything okay?” I sit up. “Yeah, I’ll be out front in an hour.” He’s curt and hangs up. Pulling the phone away, I look at it, nervously gnawing at the corner of my lip, stewing over what this can be about. It feels like I’m about to be dumped, except we aren’t even dating. The more I think about it, the more rejected I feel. I’m working myself up into an emotional

mess. I’ve never had a strengthening relationship with men; all the men in my life controlled or coddled me as if I might break and I hated that. The taste of blood halts my mind’s crazy train. I know I’d better start getting ready because I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting here. Hurrying to the bathroom, I pee and get dressed. Right at ten p.m. my phone chimes. Talon: I’m here.

I lock up and scurry down to the Mustang, its bright headlights saturating the red brick on the building. His car is all glossed up, and the roar of the engine sounds meaner than ever. Opening the passenger side, I climb in, breathing in

the masculine cologne he must have on. Sniffing it triggers so many fond memories. Memories that may have to stay that way. The inner lights gradually fade till I catch him staring at me with a troubled scowl that creases his forehead as I click my seat belt on. Something is brewing behind his stormy eyes, and it only intensifies my uneasiness. He shifts the car into reverse without a word and off we go. Talon drives like a robot, except for small agitated movements. I wait silently and patiently, feeling the unknown strain climb the longer the silence stretches on. The punishment lasts the whole ride; I just want it to end. If he doesn’t say

something soon, I’m going to combust. Getting it out in the open has to be easier than this. “Talon, please talk to me. You’re making me nervous,” I softly say. Detached, he turns his face to me, his voice upsettingly eerie. “Have you ever invested a lot in something you knew was wrong?” Yes, but I couldn’t keep myself away from him at the time. I keep myself from saying all of that and simply shake my head no. “Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he says, laughing once, yet none of it is humorous. I blink, confused. What is he trying to say? Is he in some kind of trouble? Does he owe someone money? What does that have to do with me? Am

I what’s wrong? No, we’re great together. The car slows to a halt, informing my preoccupied mind that we’re here. “Talon, if you’re in trouble, I want to help.” I utter softly, reaching out and touching his knee when really I want to hug him. His muscles under my palm tense at my touch and his leg pulls away. “You don’t get it.” I’m getting angry with his chilly mood and am about to argue that I’m not getting it because he’s being so cryptic, but I glimpse out the side window and see everyone staring at our car. His presence alone draws everyone’s attention. I hate every one of these nosy onlookers, but Talon is idolized down

here at the field, and the odd fact he pays non-sexual attention to a girl throws everyone off. “Just forget I ever said anything. I need to take care of something. You’ll find your own ride home?” He pauses briefly before pulling the keys from the ignition and rolling out of the driver’s seat. I sit another minute, feeling rejected against the sticky leather that’s no longer comforting and warm. It’s cold and unwelcoming like Talon’s mood. Why does he have to make things so complicated? If he’s throwing me away, there’s no need. I’ll willingly go; he just has to say the words. I have Maggie and that’s all that matters. Stepping out, I spot Maggie leaning

against the fender of a car, talking with several people. As I approach, I watch the profile of a good-looking man. He’s rugged-looking and built solid like a lumberjack. His dirty brown hair is longer than Talon’s but looks appealing as hell uncombed. Seeing me approach, Mr. Lumberjack pushes off the car he’s leaning against and shifts away from the girl who’s trying desperately to keep his attention. Dropping those brown eyes low, he watches my every move and flashes his dangerous dimples to get my attention. His dark aura and my wounded ego make me hesitant to approach, so I veer towards Maggie, hoping to deflect his attention. But that doesn’t stop him; he still sidles up to me. “Who is this

little diamond?” I glance over my shoulder, feeling him so close to my side. I take one step away, but his steps are bigger as he moves in too close to ignore, and he knows he has my attention. Pesky little bugger. “I’m Lo. You are?” Scooping up my hand in his, he brings it up to his lips, keeping eye contact with me and placing a gentle kiss on top. “Skid.” My stomach quivers with his gesture. “Nice to meet you, Skid. How did you get that name?” He’s smug as he gloats, “Because I’m the best out here at drifting.” Not familiar with that term, I give him a puzzled look.

“Drifting is kind of like when you take a turn but you’re going too fast, making the tail end of your car slide. But I’m doing it on purpose, delicately putting pressure on the throttle to gain back control.” He shakes his head slowly. “I love control. Are you a giver or a taker, diamond?” he asks, tickling the center of my palm with a finger. What? I scrunch up my forehead. “Why do you keep calling me diamond?” He flashes a row of teeth, looking me up and down. “Haven’t you ever heard the best things come in small packages?” “Back the fuck off, Skid!” Talon’s angry voice booms, causing me to jump and Skid to drop my hand. I take a step back. Suddenly, I feel guilty like I just

got caught doing something wrong. “Ah, Talon,” Skid says with spite. Turning his snide look to me, he points over to Talon. “Are you his, diamond?” “No, we’re friends and stop calling me diamond. “Friends?” Skid laughs with excitement. “That’s the zone he likes to keep all his women in—that or the discard pile.” I glance over and see Talon’s fists white knuckled by his side and hot rage seeping through his pores. His control is slipping. Skid leans closer to Talon but speaks in a tone we all can hear. “That slick must be super sweet if you’re hitting that shit every night. What do you say we do

a tag team on her? I’ll leave that tight little pussy for you, and I’ll tear up her asshole.” Before anyone knows it, Skid is on his back with a boom, and Talon is viciously pummeling him repeatedly in the face. Blood sprays out of someone and people scatter. Stone and a few others spread their arms out and push the crowd back. Maggie encloses me in a tight hug as I watch intently, covering my hands over my mouth in shock. It’s frightening. When Skid stops moving, several guys pull Talon off his bloody, limp mess of a body, and like nothing, Talon shakes the guys off, turning and locking his infuriated stare on me. The veins in

his arms pulsate, and his bulging chest rises with each heavy breath. It feels like minutes pass and no one says or does anything; everybody just stares. That’s when Talon breaks eye contact, spitting a mixture of blood and saliva spatter to the ground and storms to his car. I can’t let him leave alone. Will he ever talk to me again? I run after him, dangerously throwing myself into his car seconds before he peels out, leaving the crowd in a dusting of dirt. Silence, it’s almost unbearable. I seriously need to talk about what just happened, but holed up in this tiny space with Speed Racer is suffocating. It isn’t a joy ride. He’s angry and takes it out on every other driver lucky enough to get in

front of him. I hang onto the seat belt for dear life, peeking over in his direction. Streetlights dance across his face, one by one as they pass, illuminating his rigid jaw, a cheekbone that’s starting to swell, and bloody knuckles. He doesn’t acknowledge me or even glance my way even once, his lack of outward emotions only scrambling up my already erratic inward emotions. Should I say sorry? Or be angry at him for fighting. I’m no victim. I wasn’t hurt, but his actions speak volumes. There’s no way of telling what is running through his mind, considering his already icy mood. I gently reach over and touch his hand on the stick shift. “Talon?” My words fall into the darkness, and

with not so much as a glance, he jerks his hand away, leaving mine unwanted. The slap of cold rejection. He pulls into his garage, turning the engine off. The room is lit just enough by the overhead light for us to see. Talon is looking down in his lap when he releases a stressful sigh. My stomach is twisted up in knots and I break. “I’m sorry.” I don’t even know what I’m sorry for. I guess I should have set Skid straight from the beginning, told him I wasn’t interested, and Talon wouldn’t be battered. “You didn’t need to do that.” He lets out an angry noise and gets out, slamming the car door hard. My pace keeps up with his all the way to the

middle of the dim living room, where I nearly bump into him as he stops. With his back to me, his voice is low. It doesn’t even sound like him. “I suggest you stay away from me right now.” His shoulders sag and his torso rocks with every breath. Cautiously, I round him. “Why? I’m not afraid of you.” Suddenly, his body forcefully pushes mine against the wall, and his hands cage around my head. His body is having an adrenaline dump because his muscles are coiled and trembling, and his pupils are dilated. I’ll never forget the expression on his face. His eyes are sharp, threatening. “Are you sure about that? Say it again.” He growls, slamming

a fist hard into the wall. I wince from the bang in my ear and close my eyes tight for a second, swallowing down the pool of saliva that develops. Long tense seconds pass. “I’m not afraid of you.” I make sure to say it slowly, meaning every word so he fully understands. Distress is written all over his face as his eyes fall and he sighs, resting his forehead against mine. I bring my hand up and lightly graze it across his cheek as I speak. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were simply sticking up—” Abruptly, he shoves himself away from the wall in a violent rush. “Having someone else’s blood all over me isn’t wrong?” Silence, silence, silence. “Shit,

Lo!” I watch him pace around the room, and my heart aches for him. Clasping my hands in front of me and closing my eyes, I rest my head against the wall and stay silent, wishing this would all go away. Sometimes silence is the best gift you can give someone. Singular parts of me flare to life when I feel his abused hands creep into my hair, painfully fisting handfuls at the base of my head like he needs the earth to stop moving. He tilts my head back to the angle he wants. “Open your eyes.” He grumbles slowly. I swallow my nervousness, and my body obeys, giving my eyes to him. “Do you know how crazy you make me? Lo, I almost killed

that guy out there tonight for you. I didn’t want to stop.” I can’t stop the shudder. “Why?” I wait a few beats. I need to know, but he will never say. Instead, he deflects the question, making a face that looks almost painful. I don’t have time to brace myself and my heart breaks. He doesn’t need to say a single word. I may lack relationship experience, but I know. A strong man on the outside but crumbly and broken inside—something I never noticed until now—Talon keeps many emotions locked up, only showing the strong alpha male that I know. I feel the need to comfort him, soothe his nerves, and tell him everything will be okay. Or better

yet, show him. Take care of him as he did me. With shaky hands, I slide them under the tail of his shirt, applying pressure with my fingertips so that our stomachs press together. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, and his grip grows tighter. My gentle fingers rub up and down, firmly circling the pads over his stiff flesh, begging him to calm. I care about him. I’ve fallen for the player, and I so badly want to give him my heart. I try to live my life with caution, but what’s the point of living if I’m not living at all?

Chapter 12 Lo For once, he lets go, his muscles pliable under my hands. When the blaze fades from his eyes, I reach up and coax his hands out of my hair, entwining our fingers. Talon lets me pull him through the house, up the stairs and into his bathroom without the slightest hesitation. Once there, I guide him to sit down on the lid of the toilet seat, pulling open the cabinet drawer by drawer, rummaging through to find all the supplies I’m searching for. On the cold tiles, I

sit on my heels between his legs, spreading everything out onto a fluffy towel.

“This might sting a little,” I warn, looking up at him, holding his hand in mine. He flinches just slightly as I pour the alcohol over his dried open wounds. They aren’t bad enough that he needs to go to the hospital, but several definitely need attention so they won’t get infected. My small hands make quick work of picking out grass, gravel, chunks of blood, and I don’t know what else. All the while Talon doesn’t even make a peep; he only watches. His tired eyes shift between my working hands and my face. Under his observant eye, I’m a bit nervous, and when I finish, I rise up on my knees, between his legs, and give

each booboo a tiny peck, even the gash that graces his lower lip, and smile. His free hand seizes the back of my head, forcing me to stay put. So close. God, he’s sinfully sexy, I can’t help but think, locked in his stare. His eyes are teeming with the burning need to have me. He’s no longer trying to hide his feelings as I am. All the feelings I’ve bottled up for some time now are threatening to explode like a can of shaken soda. “Don’t start something you’re not willing to finish, Lo,” he warns, ever so slightly tilting his head to the side and flashing my lips a quick look. “Are you going to steal a kiss?” I challenge. Vivid memories don’t do

justice to what his lips can do. I’m too flustered—too flustered to kiss first or to speak in full sentences or run for that matter. One side of his mouth lifts, and he gently coaxes me closer, sliding his warm tongue over the seam of my lips. “Do you want me to?” I part them, granting him access, and he barely tickles my lips with a kiss. I lick my lips, thirsting for another taste, and he moans, watching my pink tongue return to my mouth. An intense shiver runs the length of my spine, and he notices, pulling back a few inches. With hooded eyes, I watch him second-guess the decision not to release the ferocity behind his lips. I want him to. God, I want him to. He has me all worked up.

His perfect mouth inches closer again, and I fall still. When his lips cover mine, I drag in a long breath, closing my eyes, absorbing him. This time, though, his lips don’t form a kiss but whisper softly against mine. “Thank you” Then he tenderly brushes his nose along my cheek to my ear, releasing a deep hum as he flicks my earlobe with his tongue. The vibration fires off another shiver, but this time it strikes between my legs. He notices that too, a smile playing at his mouth. Talon is very good at what he does and knows what strings to pluck. Gently, he urges me to stand up, hooks a finger in my belt loops, and draws me to straddle his lap. Sparkling

blue eyes gaze deep into mine, and for a minute, I fear he might see my true feelings. I tell myself I don’t want to fall, but I know it’s too late. I want to show him that the greatest drug for a human is the love of another human being. My hands leave my side and circle his neck, and I feel his hardening length grow between my legs. At the same time, his fingers run up under the tail of my thin shirt and under my waistband, working my lower back, graciously brushing light touches to the swells of my ass. The kneading creates a rocking motion working us both into a rhythm. It all feels so good. I moan softly in his ear, biting my lip. A steady roll of his hips pushes his denim-clad cock right

into my clit, stimulating every nerve inside me. With that hit, I drop my cheek to his, and my hands desperately try to grip his short hair to no avail. His hands push my hips downward with every rotation into him, making it so hard for me to control the blows to my sweet spot. Each time he strikes, my lungs lose a little more air. My head starts to spin, and I’m growing dangerously close to coming, loving his kind of torture. With our cheeks joined, they caress each other softly and slowly. I tilt my lips towards his face and graze them against his stubble, marking him with the moisture of my breath. Randomly, I pepper delicate kisses across his cheek and

around his ear, always rejoining our cheeks. I do this over and over, focusing on his hits to my center. My softness against his roughness makes for an amazing contrast. He growls under my lips, sliding his warm hands slowly up my curves to my shoulder blades and dragging my shirt up with them, stopping, tickling the clasp of my bra. “Shit, Lo, don’t let go yet.” I clench my muscles, obeying his words. Another roll. “Your face is flushed so beautifully. Say the words. Let me lay you down and fuck this out of us.” With hunger and lust, he emphasizes his words with an upward roll. My eyes shoot open. Fuck what out of us? I manage to lean back, feeling this

drift towards the point of no return. My body is primed for what will happen next, but my heart is still a few paces behind. “Talon . . .” “Hmmm,” he mumbles, kissing up my neck, just about to unclip my bra. “Talon, I better go,” I whisper. He stills, both of us breathing heavily. I stay, peeking over his shoulders instead of into his searing eyes. I’m weak and will easily fold with the pressure. He holds statue still then exhales a frustrated breath. “No, stay,” he begs, tightening his arms around my waist and pulling back to look at me. Believe me. I want to stay, but I see

the big error in doing so. It’s bad enough I’ll go home and torture myself by rewinding and replaying this whole thing in my mind. Shaking my head, I stay firm. “Fuck!” Talon exhales an unhappy sigh, pushing me to stand up. My shirt falls back into place just as two knocks come from the door, making us both turn. “Whoa. Sorry bro,” Stone peeks in, eyeing us suspiciously. “It’s fine, Stone. Come in. I was just leaving.” I move towards the door, but he still lingers on the handle. “I just wanted to make sure my boy was okay, but seeing the two of you locked in here, I’d say he is.” I look down at the tile floor and wait, feeling a

tad embarrassed. “Skid’s not so lucky though.” I shift my attention back to Stone. “After you guys left, they had a real hard time rousing him. Nobody wanted the cops involved, so they weren’t called. Lucky you. But it took another forty-five minutes to even get him to open his eyes or follow commands. The number you did on his face from dragging it across the gravel was bad. It looks like the side of the fucking moon.” I found my hand over my mouth in shock. If Skid had died, Talon would be facing some pretty serious manslaughter charges. Sweet Jesus! That thought is sobering. “Well, I’ll leave you two crazy kids. Glad to see you’re okay, Tal, and thanks for gluing all his pieces

back together, Lo. I think my buddy would die a lonely man if you hadn’t come along—” “Okay, that’s enough, Stone!” Talon spit. “Yeah, yeah, okay.” Stone gives us a slight wave and closes the bathroom door, leaving us in odd silence. Looking down, I can’t help feeling that this is all my fault. “He’s shit, Lo. You don’t treat a woman like that and get away with it. Men were placed here to protect women for that reason, and he’s lucky a fuckedup face is the only problem he’s going to have.” I blink a couple times, wondering how a person can beat another near

death and not have remorse, even though the other was in the wrong. This whole night has been so confusing. Slowly sliding my eyes up to the beast of a man next to me, I swallow my nervousness. “I think it’s a good idea if I head home,” I say, taking a step in that direction. “How do you plan on getting home? Is Maggie coming to get you?” “I was going to walk. I’m only fifteen minutes away.” I can tell by the dismissive expression on his face that that is the wrong answer. “You’ve lost your damn mind if you think I’m going to let you walk home in the dark.” I want to argue because he’s trying to control me again, but with the crazy day

he’s had, I have to cut him some slack. “Walk me out,” I whisper. I lead the way, Talon following me down the hallway and down the flight of stairs until we stop next to the table at the front door. “Take the Mustang.” He hands me the keys. As I reach for them, he pulls them back. “But I want you to call me as soon as you make it in. Don’t stop to piss or talk with Maggie. Okay?” “Okay, okay, I got it.” Talon’s eyes soften, a happy smile appears, and he opens his arms wide. “Come here.” I can’t resist those arms. His hold is firm and safe. It gives me a feeling of salvation, and I fit perfectly in his arms.

I rest my head against his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist, as he tucks his nose in my hair. “I don’t want to let you go. Just stay,” he says. I chuckle into his shirt, not replying to his last ditch attempt. Loosening his arms just slightly, he pulls back, looking down at me, my tipping my head up to him. “Remember . . .” I nod repeatedly. “No pissing—got it,” I tease with a playful smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Happy birthday.” I whisper the last part, realizing it’s after twelve. His small smile appears again tainted with a side of pain, which I don’t understand. Then ever so smoothly Talon bends down and places a soft kiss to the

corner of my mouth and hands off his keys.

Talon Happy birthday. I hate the taste of those words in my mouth. A year ago those two simple words would have sent me plummeting into a fuck-everything tailspin. The booze would have flown so thick I’d have made sure to saturate every living cell in my body with it, and the cocktail of drugs would have sedated me so deeply that in four days, if I’d been lucky enough to wake up, I would have wished the drugs had taken me. See how a shitty childhood leaks into adulthood. At least my brother and I made it out alive. But the day of my birth will always be infected with hate for one person and

saddened worship for another. No one really knows when my birthday is except for a few close individuals, but over the years, we’ve turned it into just another one of our raging parties but on anabolic steroids.

My lifestyle works. The good Lord hasn’t decided to take me yet, but the heavens above decided to fuck up my plans by throwing a 5’2” angel into the mix. The next morning I don’t wake with the usual black cloud of self-destruction that comes with this day. No, this sensation is confusing and foreign. A surge of hope pushes my poisonous mood away and clarity seeps in. Though I’m afraid to admit to myself what caused this shift, this shift feels good. Me and my coffee take our asses out

to the backyard where big blowers are inflating huge slides and people are working to set up today’s festivities. I’m careful not to trip over the electrical cords or rolls of tarps when I see Stone organizing fresh wood in the fire pit. He glances up as I approach. “What’s up, Chief? How’s everything coming?” I casually ask. “We’re right on schedule. Bruce and Ailee will be here in the next hour to drop off half the liquor store and all the food. “Nice! Do you need help with anything?” Stone stands up, brushing his hands off on his shorts and draping an arm around my shoulder. “Nope, but today’s

a big day for you, my man. You should probably head upstairs, trim the old pubes, give Rubik a good polishing, but do that shit over the toilet because that’s just nasty to find curly hairs in the sink.” I stared at Stone, confused, wondering if his mother smoked crack while he was in the womb. “Who’s Rubik?” I ask. He gapes at me as if I’m stupid. “Your dick, bro! Rubik is your dick! The longer you play with it, the harder it gets.” I clutch my chest, laughing so hard I almost spill my coffee. “Now go.” He gives me a shove. “There will be numerous honeys here before you know it just waiting to give

your monkey his birthday spankings.” “You aren’t right. You know that?” I say, pointing at him, walking back inside. From there, I move about, prepping the house for when the mass of bodies will arrive. I can’t help this nervous excitement; I have to keep my hands moving. What happened between Lo and me last night was . . . huge. I’m sorry to say that I ever had doubts about what we could be. Mainly the doubt lies within me, but she stays true with each attempt to push her away. She didn’t run when things got shitty, and that’s the kind of girl I need in my life. I arrange the alcohol and pull out tons of shot glasses, locking certain

rooms and stripping my bed, donning it with fresh sheets. Lo will be in my bed tonight, no exceptions. Last night got completely out of hand, and I want to make it up to her. First for scaring her shitless and then treating what happened in the bathroom like she was just another one of my dirty flings. I’m an ass. She puts me in a demanding, controlling, winner-takes-all mood. Once she left, I lay in my bed, staring up at the ceiling and jerked off to the thought of her riding my dick. I envisioned her pussy slick enough I could easily glide in till she couldn’t take anymore of me inside her. Her silky tongue working mine between soft cries of pleasure, I didn’t sleep a wink last

night. Pathetic, I know.

Slowly people start to show up. I can’t help my body’s natural reaction every time the doorbell rings. Still no Lo. She should have been here by now. With relief, twenty minutes later a message comes through from Maggie saying that they had a hiccup and would be here shortly. I need a shot, anything to chill my nerves. I fill the tiny glass up and down the hatch the fire liquid goes. Just as I slam down the second shot, two tiny hands slide over my eyes and I can’t help the massive smile that spreads. “It’s about damn time you got here, woman!” I exclaim, grabbing her wrists and twisting around, only to be met with brown eyes. Vicky, fuck!

“I missed you too, baby. Where’s

your little pet? I don’t see her trailing behind you on her leash.” “Don’t be a bitch, Vicky. If you’re going to try to fuck shit up, you can leave or you can stay and enjoy yourself, but you will leave Lo alone. You got me? If I even see you looking at her funny, I’ll tell Shane you’re the reason why he developed that nasty discharge last summer.” Her facial reaction resembles a blowup doll’s. “Ah, that’s just wrong. I’m clean.” “Yeah, well, one slipup and you’ll magically have gonorrhea. Got it? Stay the fuck away from her.” “I don’t know why I even liked you.” “That’s your mistake.” Vicky has my

motherfucking blood pumping, and I’m already pacing like a caged tiger. Just then I feel the vibrations of a deep rumble across the floors and push past Vicky into the garage. The bestlooking set of legs steps out of my Mustang, and I can’t seem to let go of the door frame since it’s holding me up. My palms itch anxiously to hold her, and my soul begins to calm at her sight. She casually re-adjusts her sleek deep-blue strappy dress. I don’t know what they call them; all I know is God created them to torture me. Without glimpsing in my direction, she strolls to the trunk and fishes out a cinch bag, hopefully filled with a change of overnight clothes, or not, it doesn’t

matter. When the trunk closes, that’s when our eyes met, connecting our souls for a magical minute. The prettiest blush appears on her cheeks, and I watch as her eyes wander down my bare chest, her pupils dilating. She likes what she sees. Good! Standing in front, she stretches up onto her tippy toes and wraps her arms around my neck. Ah, perfect, I can’t stop myself from taking her in deeper, lifting her up off the ground, intensifying her sweet scent. “Happy birthday,” her beautiful voice sings, as she beams up at me, her face inches from mine. How easy it would be to transfer all her pink gloss onto my lips. Believe me I really think about it, but showing her respect

and how vital she is to me seems more important. “I’m sorry we’re late. Diddy struck again. I swear that cat has it out for me.” I give her an encouraging smile to go on, setting her down. “I went into my bathroom to turn on my flat iron and left it to get dressed. Five minutes, later when I came back and started to curl my hair, this kick-you-in-the-face smell evolved. So I set the iron down and that’s when my hand hit liquid.” She paused. “Turns out Diddy peed on my flat iron, and my hair reeked of urine.” I laugh so hard for a long moment. She doesn’t laugh and that’s when I tame myself. “Stop it.” She smiles. I reach over

and take her bag, pulling her hand into mine. Such a happy man, I casually pivot around and lead her to my room. I wish we could stay there all day and all night tangled up, naked in each other’s arms. My heart rate flutters, and I feel my dick thicken just thinking about it. I pray one day it will actually happen. It pisses me off that Maggie’s dick douche brother takes advantage of Lo’s genuine goodness. I'm not completely stupid. I know she's not a virgin, but the fact that she would let him inside her fucks with my mind. If she wants a fuck buddy, there’s one standing right in front of her. For once, I don’t just want to be emotionless. I want Lo’s respect, and the scary part is I need it. The more time we

spend together, the harder it is to not have any. I'm just hoping today I can help her acknowledge some of those feelings. I drop Lo’s bag on my bed and stand next to my door, arms crossed over my chest and waiting patiently while she easily moves about my room, completely comfortable like it’s half hers. That’s how I like things. She’s the only woman I allow in my room; it just all feels too personal. She pulls out a handful of triangles and strings and holds it in the air. “I'm just gonna change and I’ll be down in a sec.” I give her a chin lift and step back, shutting the door behind me. I stand there for a minute, guarding my door but realize it might freak her out when she

opens it. So reluctantly I leave. A long breeze blows through the bustling backyard, filling the area with laughter and good music. It’s one of the hottest days we’ve had so far this year, making it a perfect day to hang by the water. I register the sound of the French doors opening and closing behind me; then shortly afterward, Lo appears at my side. I smile happily and point to the backyard. “What do you want to do first?” I ask, looking down at her. She gently slides her hand around my bent elbow, pointing to the far end of the yard where the land drastically slopes. In years past, we’d always set up a slip n slide there, but this year Stone found this large translucent sphere that you ride

in called an OGO. “Alright, babe, let’s go,” I say, placing a possessive hand over hers, keeping her locked to me, and leading us in that direction. I hope every one of these fuckers takes note of who she’s with. They can find their own Lo; this one is taken. She just doesn’t know it yet. We round the pool to the back corner of the yard, and I have to admit I might have walked a little slower than necessary, loving the sway of her body with mine and the way the breeze curls her hair around my bicep. I hadn’t noticed until she turned around, but she is barely covered in one of the tiniest bikinis ever. My mouth starts salivating, and I take a few calming breaths,

wondering how I’m going to remedy my blue balls tonight. The OGO sits tall on the top of the hill. A small hole on the side allows for four people to ride, but I make damn sure this will only be a party for two. Fuck if I’ll allow another man to bump and rub up against her near-naked body. The thought sickens me. One by one we slide through the tiny hole. Lo climbs in with ease, whereas I have to work my broad shoulders and hips to fit. In the ball, we sit in a puddle of water; this allows us to slide around as the ball rolls. “You ready?” I ask, my voice echoing off the plastic. She slides her hand in mine while the

other wraps around my heart, her eyes bright and her smile so big it’s contagious. “Ready,” she confidently says. I give the signal, and Brad gives us a push, starting our wet and wild ride. Imagine a washing machine on gentle cycle, that’s what this is like. Her whimsical laughter pipes through my ears, etching in my brain as if it’s being played on the purest surround-sound speakers. We don’t maintain personal space. No, fuck personal space. We’re teasingly tangled in a mess of limbs by the time we get to the bottom. I never want to stop touching her. With my free hand, I hook my finger through the hairs that are stuck to her face, drawing the

strands from her eyes and lips. What hit me are sparkling smiling green eyes. Her draw, personality, and her face are a dangerous combination for me. I can’t keep eye contact for long, or my tongue is going to try to make friends fast. Thank God she speaks. “Can we go again?” I nod. I’ll do this all night if she wants. The two of us in our own personal little bubble, what could be better? We ride the hill over and over, having the best time of our lives. Her giggles are more drugging than any pill can make me feel on this day. Lo mentions that she needs a rest, so I help her up and out of the ball, taken aback

when she stops to readjust her suit. My eyes are glued to each spot she adjusts as she pulls the spandex from her behind with a snap. Sweet Jesus that ass!! My dick throbs, reminding me he’s still here. We retire to a set of recliners. I turn mine in the opposite direction so we’re facing each other but still right next to her. I chalk it up to having better sunlight in this direction, but Lo knows better, giving me a cutesy smile. Lo lays her head back and relaxes all her muscles with a sigh, closing her eyes. I sit there and stare for as long as I want, envying the tiny droplets that run off her skin to the hot ground. The most beautiful girl is lying next to me, and I can’t do half the things my body is begging me to do. That

alone makes me real fidgety. After some time, Lo dozes off, so I step away to check on the rest of the house. Maya and Trixie are in the kitchen, prepping a tray of ribs and hamburgers for the grill. “Do you have some time, Talon, to put these on for us?” Trixie asks. I don’t mind. I can at least be some help and also keep an eye on Lo. “Sure, load me up.” “Great! The animals are starting to get restless.” I grill up trays and trays of food, happily sipping on my beer to Jimmy Buffet. Everyone is having a great time when, out the corner of my eye, I notice Lo sit up and rake her eyes across the

backyard. It’s empowering to witness firsthand her need to find me, and when she does, she spares me an adorable smile and wave of her hand. I return her smile, bringing my attention back to the burning burgers. Shit! After a while, Chrissy comes over, yakking on about the smack Skid’s been spouting. I just happen to look up, and Vicky’s standing over Lo. Her hand is shielding the sun as she looks up; her body stills at Vicky’s words. I knew I couldn’t trust that hoe. No doubt she’s giving the CliffNotes version of my sex life, pumping her full of doubt. My legs ache to go over there and protect her, but my lifestyle is no secret. Yet I see Vicky’s intentions. If Vicky can run Lo

off, in her mind, it makes her numero uno again. Yeah, well, her days are numbered, and my scolding eyes are screaming everything my mouth wants to say to her. She finishes with a phony smile, bending down and pulling Lo into an awkward half hug. Her expression is unreadable. Lo slowly stands up and stretches, pulling her arms over her head while arching her back to elongate her torso. Her long hair dangles down in soft waves, tickling the top of her ass. I stare, hoping to make eye contact so I might be able to see what’s going on in her brain, but no, she seems to avoid my gaze and walks inside. How frustrating. I will the burgers to hurry, scooping up the plate of

food and swinging open the French doors, dropping the tray on the island a little too hard. “Whoa, everything alright?” Stone asks, pulling his hands off the counter. I blow out a hard breath. “Yeah, where’s Lo?” “I don’t know. I saw her go upstairs.” Shit, I have to stop her from leaving.

Lo It only takes me a few minutes to pee. I swing open the bathroom door and am startled to see Talon sitting on the side of his bed.

“You scared me. Why aren’t you

outside?” I say with a hand to my chest. He doesn’t say anything, simply extends his open arms. It only takes me five steps to get to him. He smiles down fondly, squeezing an oomph from my lungs. “I’m going to tie you to my bed if you keep on disappearing on me like that,” Talon says, tapping the tip of my nose. The tingling heat starts between my legs and travels all the way to my cheeks. “You can’t be serious,” I say, wishing he is. “Try me. I would love to show your little ass just how serious I am.” A part of me wants to test his limits. The thought of being tied up sends a thrill fingering my nerves. Hell, the idea

of having sex for the first time tickles my arousal. You can try to prepare yourself for the unknown but it’s just that. No advice or movies or books can prepare you like your own personal experience. That, I have limited knowledge of. As the night darkens, the house slowly fills with wall-to-wall people. I stay by Talon’s side the whole night, protectively tucked under his arm. He seems to want me here, so that’s where I’m staying. We happen to be walking into the living room when every light in the house plummets into darkness. My grip around Talon’s hand tightens, not sure what happened, and then Stone’s voice projects from the large speakers in the corner of the room. “Let’s get this

party started, bitches!” he yells. Someone flips a switch, basking everyone in a black light glow, and a mass of cheers erupts while the mega speakers pump out an erotic beat. Beautiful girls strut around, serving shots in neon test tubes, wearing fleshcolored bras and panties, giving the appearance of being naked. I have no idea what is in those tubes, but clearly it isn’t just alcohol. The shot is highly potent, and it doesn’t take much to have me feeling it effects. I’m light as a feather, relaxed, and flirty. It seems to elevate all five of my senses. Talon pulls me onto the busy dance floor with a twirl through the shifting bodies. I love to dance. All those days spent

training on my parents’ dime I don’t think were meant for this moment. Talon’s dancing is very flirtatious. Then again that’s his style. Mastering the art of sweet talking panties off women must bleed through in all aspects of his life. I gaze up at him as he stares down at me. His hands roam my bikini bare body, gliding easily over my skin with the help of a thin layer of perspiration, igniting chills and a burn all at the same time as we laugh and sway into each other. Closing my eyes, I let the numbness flow through my veins, the room moving in slow motion. My hands hook in the waist band of his trunks as I do a body roll against Talon’s front, pulling his hips to me as I push my breasts up and

pull my body away. That’s when a thick wet something brushes down my front, between my breasts all the way down my stomach, stopping at the elastic band on my suit. Paint. Neon paint. Talon flirtatiously smiles as he holds a heavy paint brush dipped in a swirl of bright colors. The colors are psychedelically beautiful and bright, glowing strong under the black lights. Looking around, I see everyone is painted in some form. I spin my back to him, draping an arm around his neck, the other stroking his thigh as I roll my hips into his pelvis. Talon continues to tempt at a slow-paced tease, breathing into my neck, tracing the cold rough bristles around the side of my

left breast, down across my spine, dragging it over my right hip bone, and swiping it around my inner thigh. The harder he pushes the brush, the more the colors change. I push out a pent-up breath, barely able to breathe, my mind fuzzy and my body aching for only one thing. He deliciously builds my body up. I’m practically panting, my body on fire. All I want is Talon. A hard smack to my ass that stings with the wet brush wakes me right up. Not only does that fireball in my pelvis disintegrate with his strike, but paint splatters everywhere. I figure now is the best time to excuse myself and sober up. I need to calm down before I just bend over this vibrating

speaker and let him take me from behind. I motion for his attention and break his hold. “I’ll be right back. I have to use the bathroom,” I yell. He leans in close and raises his voice over the music. “You alright? With a shaky smile, I wave him off. Before I can escape, he snags my chin, speaking into my hair. “When you’re done, come right back. I’ll be right here; don’t be long.” He leans back slightly, making sure I get the message. After nodding, I wobble through the heavily packed hallways, finding the door I’m seeking. My fingers are numb as I lock myself in. The inside of the bathroom is still. I rest my hands flat against the cold counter and stare at the

wavering figure in the mirror. No more drinks, I think, breathing in several mind-clearing breaths, drinking handfuls of sink water. Who am I kidding? I’ve over done it. I soak a washcloth and place it on the back of my neck, hanging my head over the sink full of steaming hot water. A few heavy bangs come from the door, accompanied by yells to hurry up. “Alright, alright,” I moan, splashing some water on my face and taking another scoop in my mouth, blindly reaching for the hand towel on the wall. Just as the banging starts again, I swing the door open, meeting a very handsome dark-haired man with very familiar pale blue eyes. I look at him.

Like really look at him. His face sports features I’ve seen before: so strong, so manly, so alluring. “Well? Are you just going to stand there?” The stranger says, brushing past me, causing my head to spin and knocking me off kilter. Like a knight in shining armor this stranger swoops in and catches me in a pair of shapely arms. “Whoa, take it easy there, grace.” I let him hold me, let him gaze over my features, feeling as light as a piece of paper in his arms. When I make no attempt to move, he keeps talking. “You’re one pretty little thing. You here with your boyfriend?” I gently shake my head no, not wanting to skew my view of his rare

shade of blue irises. They soothe me and give me the sense of being safe, even though I don’t know this man. He smiles, and using his free hand, he pushes the door closed, locking us in. “If you weren’t so drunk, I would make a play for you and snatch you up for myself,” he says, setting me gently down against the wall in the corner and unzipping his fly in front of the toilet. Like nothing he pulls himself out, unashamed. I should run, except I’m afraid I’ll trip and knock myself out, putting me in a worse position than I already am. After he washes his hands, the stranger helps me up, wrapping a beefy arm around my waist for support. “Stay with me. You don’t need to be wandering around

alone. Someone is going to take advantage of you.” It all takes a moment to register what he is saying as he opens the door, but by the time my lips go to object, my eyes connect on a very maniac Talon standing in the threshold.

Chapter 13 Lo There’s nothing funny about the expression on his face, but I can’t help the burst of giggles that start. Both men gape down at me as if I’m nuts then glance back at one another in a deadly showdown with their eyes. I finally lasso my laughter with the words Talon speaks.

“Hello, brother.” Oh shit, I think, clenching my throat muscles to stop the second round of giggles. It doesn’t work.

One of the Baylor brothers is scowling while the other Baylor is smiling down at me. “This girl is fun,” Talon’s brother says. “Yeah, now hand her over,” Talon demands with an arm out. “Whoa, wait. I’m the one who found her.” “Hutch, I’m not fucking playing. Go find someone else. Lo is with me.” Talon takes a step towards me, but Hutch twists, moving me away. “Oh . . . so this is Lo,” he says, his tone saying it all. “Some protector you are, little brother, letting her walk around alone like this.” “Damn it, don’t start that shit.” He’s breathing through his teeth. “I tried,

okay? We tried! Every year I beat myself up over it, so just drop it.” “Okay.” He pauses. “Mom is improving though.” “I don’t give two shits about what that cunt does.” I’m bug-eyed sober after that. Everyone’s good mood has soured, and if this is Talon’s brother, I don’t need to be under his arm. I move away from Hutch, shrugging him off, and go straight into Talon’s arms, resting a hand over his heart and giving him a reassuring squeeze. I so badly want to defuse this bomb, and like a push of anesthesia, his muscles relax. Hutch doesn’t seem to miss a beat, giving us a rapt look. “Wow, okay. Well, I see you have

everything under control again so . . . Lo, it was very nice to meet you.” He turns to Talon. “Try to enjoy the rest of your birthday, little brother.” With that, he slaps Talon on the back and leaves. “Hey,” I gently say, tapping my hand that was over his heart, breaking through his dreary thoughts. “Come with me. I’ve got something to give you.” I lead him through the house, forgetting about Hutch, to the garage, flicking on the overhead light. Black gloss shines under dim fluorescent lighting; the slight scent of exhaust vapors still lingers. “Have you lost your mind?” he asks. “We’re in the garage.” “Look in your car.” I motion with a swing of my head. It takes him a minute

to obey, but Talon walks over, eyeing me as he passes, opening the driver’s door and easily sinking in the seat. Like second nature his hands rest on the steering wheel and that’s when it hits him. My gift. “Wow,” he whispers. “Wow, Lo, this is . . . Wow, I don’t know what to say.” He stammers, and his forehead creases, closely examining the random logos and brands, as he fingers the smooth leather, strong stitching, and colors that now make up his steering-wheel wrap composed of all my old bracelets. It’s like having bits of my life, my journeys from all over stitched into one canvas. I stand off to the side, watching him in awe, thinking how lucky I am to have

him in my life. When he’s finished admiring, he twists in his seat, giving me a grateful smile and appreciative eyes, stealing my heart. “Now I’ll have you, my lucky charm, with me always.” The gentle emotions in his voice almost make me cry, all anger from before gone. He steps out and twists me up in his arms, pressing me to his warm chest. I don’t move. In that moment, in that very moment for the first time, I feel something. I feel like I have something to lose. Wrongs turn to rights, life sprouts from death, and like grows into love. Not a deep throw-yourself-in front-of-acar love but a baby love to protect and nurture. The truth is I’m finally ready to move

forward. His hold is tight and safe. I need safe. It all starts with one kiss to the top of my head then two. Winged butterflies flutter up my center, and the mix of alcohol makes me fearless. I want Talon, crave him. So I tip my face upward, cannonballing into a sea of deep blue, offering up my needy lips. In slow motion, Talon pulls my face to his and stops. He’s barely hanging on to his control. I’ve watched him, with other girls; he plays the bad ass and doesn’t care what they think when he breaks their hearts. He can easily disconnect from the true meaning of the act. But I’m

not other girls and I like my heart. He’s holding back. I see nothing but uncertainty, vulnerability, and how gorgeous he is. So I make his decision for him with the slightest of pushes, ensuring he won’t resist. “Take them; they’re yours,” I whisper, parting my lips and barely flicking the tip of my tongue up the center of his lips. That does it and his control explodes, igniting our lips in a rush of power. His hands slide back, taking fistfuls of blond locks, angling my head back. He’s rough, but I like it, responding to his pull. His hands rock us to the rhythm of our kiss as we frantically explore every curve, every corner, memorizing what we’ve never

been allowed to do before. Never in my wildest dream have I been kissed like this. It’s fierce. My world is spinning, so my hands grasp at his solid wrists for support, moving with them as they travel down me, over my shoulders, down my spine, around my hips, and that’s when he breaks my grip, cuffing my wrists behind my back, taut against my ass. Gaining all control. He opens his eyes, pulling back, completely out of breath. For a split second, worry creases his brow as if he’s unsure if we just made a mess. His reaction makes me smile. Can it be our kiss actually means something to him? Something more than all the other times

he’s given his kisses away. The light above us trembles from the heavy music inside. I pant through my thumping heart, pulling a wrist free and placing it to the center of his chest. Without resistance, I inch him backwards until the stool sitting against the wall touches the backs of his thighs, and with the slightest push, he sits. I want to make this good, but I don’t want him combusting in his pants either. Gracefully, I step between his parted legs, facing him, loosening things up with the sway of my hips. Side to side feeling the beat, I reach into my hair, tousling its beauty, letting it fall across my back and around my breasts. He tries running his hands up my

thighs to my hips, but I spank a hand, shaking a finger in his directions. “No touching.” I purr with a confident smile. He groans, scraping his teeth across his lower lip. I can see it’s taking everything in him not to reach up, and I’m about to make it worse. I slowly caress my arms with my hands up over my head while gradually turning around, continuing to sway. With my back to him, I brace my hands on his knees, arching my back, pressing my backside into his lap to a slow grind, rolling my head, letting my hair tickle his chest. Blanched-out knuckles grip the stool for dear life. After an aching minute, I lean back against his front and entwine our fingers, bringing them around me to rest on my

thighs. His lips are right at my ear. “Baby, I want that ass,” he says, moistening my skin with his hot pants. I pull our hands down between my inner thighs, caressing areas he’s never touched on me and rub slowly back up, making the journey inch by inch over my curves, tickling the soft skin on the sides of my breasts, then retreating back down over my stomach to my gyrating hips. With each thump of the music, Talon pumps his hips, his rock hard erection stroking perfectly across the nylon covering my folds. I smile, knowing he’s clearly ready for me and wound tight. I sit up, and he surprises me when he pushes me the rest of the way to stand. His hands spin my hips, taking both of

my ass cheeks in his palms, and he stands. I squeak, surprised, and hook my arms and ankles around him, shivering at the naughty grin I see shining back at me. “Where are we going?” My voice comes out weak and sultry. “To my bed, now!” His words strike me like a thunderbolt, vibrating my core. I need to squeeze my legs together to lessen the ache, but instead the knot on Talon’s waistband rubs perfectly on that spot. Am I ready for this? My hormones are screaming yes. Do I want to give my virginity up to Talon? The thought has crossed my mind many times, yet I know he will never allow himself to be tamed.

Can I live with that? He runs us through the house, not stopping when anyone tries to talk to him, to his bedroom where he kicks the door closed with a wham, tossing me on the center of his bed. I yelp, sliding over the sheets, dislodging them. On all fours, he crawls up my body, snatching my wrists and locking them firmly above my head. His weight is firm but not crushing. Just perfect. His lips on the other hand . . . Crashing kisses assault my neck to my collarbone, where his tongue dips in the hollow of my throat. I giggle when he nips up my neck but turn serious when he hits that magic spot behind my ear lobe, and just like that, I’m back in the mood.

He continues around my jaw and returns to my lips, lightly running his fingertip down my arms until he reaches my breasts. Keeping the triangles in place, he sneaks under the cups, palming my breasts and rubbing each nipple sensitive, all the while massaging his tongue with mine. Talon’s aggressive and intense, my body’s puppeteer. He breaks our lips apart with the pinch of my nipples; I whimper, thrusting my chest to him, pushing my head into the mattress. He licks down my throat to the valley between my breasts, stopping to press a tender kiss over my heart. My heart bangs against my ribs, trying to kiss him back, but he continues downward, kissing a line over my hips

where his hands lie wrapped around my bikini string. We gaze into each other’s eyes over the plane of my stomach, feeding off each other’s hunger. I feel myself grow slick for him, and with a slight of hand, he magically has the strings undone, pulling the suit from under me, throwing it across the room. I moan from the touch of the cold air, simply becoming so sensitive from all the play. “Mmm, mmm, mmm, what to do with you first.” His head cocks, as he leans back on his heels, taking in the sights between my partially bent legs. His erection stands strong, pulsating against his trunks. It looks big and intimidating.

“Do you want me to kiss you, Lo?” I can think of nothing I want more. I bite my lip and nod, rising up on my elbow, but he grins with a Cheshire-cat smile, shaking a finger at me. “No, my sweet girl, I don’t want to kiss you there.” He points to my mouth then drops his finger. “I want to kiss you down there.” I follow the line of his finger to my pussy. Oh God! He licks his lips, and with the push of his shoulders, he lies between my thighs, easily opening me up. “Don’t move your hands.” I pant, anticipating what is about to happen, wishing he had more hair or rails on his headboard so I’d have something to grip, anything!

With a large finger, Talon spreads the moisture about, working it over my throbbing clit and folds in strokes, my muscles clenching. We are on opposite ends of skill level. “Pretty, pretty pussy, Lo. You have such plump kissable lips. I’m going to enjoy this.” He puts his hands behind my ass, and with a jerk, slides my sex closer to his hot mouth, holding me in place. With one last rise of his head, looking through his dark lashes, he shoots me a sinister smile and then sinks down, disappearing. I tense, holding my breath. I wait for the initial touch. Wait for the rough, wet, slow drag of his tongue. Then . . . I wait no longer. Every ounce of air is pulled from my

lungs. I close my eyes, tensing my legs, digging my heels into the mattress. I’m his prisoner mercifully absorbing every lash his tongue delivers over and over again. “Relax, baby.” I take a calming breath, telling myself it’s okay and let my legs fall back open. He takes my body to a place that is fucking incredible! His tongue dances in a circle against my clit, bouncing it around until I’m a quivering mess. “Talon!” I cry out when my orgasm hits, squeezing the pillow, biting the tail end. Shuddering uncontrollably, I let it take all my thoughts away in waves—waves lapping to the same motion of his tongue. God bless that tongue. A light bead of

sweat lines my skin, and I hold very still, breathing through the tingling in my limbs. I don’t know if he’s looking at me or not, but I need a moment for my mind and body to come back together again. After a few beats, I roll my lids open, steadily meeting a perfect face that quickens my heart. I watch as he straddles my hips, taking hold of my jaw. His eyes are intense and glazed over; then his mouth takes mine. His lips are rough. He always liked things rough, I notice, and I love every second of it. He’s just finished kissing me thoroughly down there, and now he’s giving my lips the same treatment. I can taste myself on him. “You’re so tiny I can put you in

whatever position I want.” Next thing I know, he rolls, flipping us over in the perfect position for me to ride him. I sit there a moment, stirred, suddenly realizing his shorts are gone, leaving his penis long, swollen, and thick against his stomach and my sex. I can feel it throbbing between my folds, and at this point, I’m so wet it can easily slide in. A shimmer catches my attention on the wall to my right. There I see my reflection staring back, replaying my every move in the dresser mirror. This woman staring back appears sensual, sexy, and seductive. Her hair is messy, and her skin glows beautifully tinted in pink. I don’t even have to think about it. My hands stroke over his shoulders and

run down his chest, over the contours of his stomach to where the tip of his penis lies trapped. My thumb circles the reddened tip, making it jump, and working out a thick bead of pre-cum as well as a few curses. His reaction makes me feel powerful and has my vaginal walls clenching at the penis that lies beneath. Using my knees, I push up, nestling his shaft perfectly within my wet slit, rubbing my slickness generously up and down his length, rocking my mound over his swollen head, and watching us move in the mirror. God, that’s hot! “That’s right, baby. Watch us. See how fucking sexy you are working me over,” he orders in a demanding voice. Talon’s hands are so big they circle

my waist, using them to control our speed, pulling my hips down for a more intense grind. Rougher, harder, faster, I moan, slipping my hands into my hair mindlessly pulling at it, needing a release from the building pressure in my groin. The strings to my top tickle my fingers, and I find myself releasing the knot at my neck, letting my breasts bounce freely. Impatient as he is, his hands find my breasts, kneading the soft flesh, rolling my nipples to hard peaks. I moan happily, dancing like a snake being charmed with a flute, never removing my eyes from his in the glass. It’s like watching someone else. Their faces, their emotions, yet the smell of sex in the air is unmistakable and a fierce turn-on.

I feel like a voyeur observing two lovers in the most precious act, yet I don’t want to look away. I continue sliding my hips forward and backwards, sporadically throwing in a swirl. His face tells me he’s close, and I’m right there with him. “Rise up slightly. I’m going to take you.” He groans. I ignore his request and assistance, bearing down on his erection harder and rocking deeper. His fingers tighten in my flesh, and with a few more rough pumps, we fall apart, each one watching the other. His load collects in a puddle on his sternum, his cock twitching out the last couple spurts, and then we both still in a

heap of heavy pants and sated minds. My mind is blown. I roll off to my back beside him, my one hand resting over my slowing heart, the other bent above my head. I can feel my heart beating through my body, everywhere. My legs lie heavy and don’t work. As I lie there, the world quietly intrudes, and I suddenly feel a deeper connection, a moment of clarity, and then his hand softly takes mine. I don’t know what to make of it or how to put it into words, but I can feel our connection running through every nerve ending. His hand slips from mine and I hear, “I’ll be right back,” in a low voice, feeling the bed shake. I haven’t moved, haven’t tried to cover up when he

returns, semen gone. The bathroom door is cracked, saturating my side of the bed with light and spilling the noise of running water into the room. Dropping my head to the side, my mouth runs bone dry as I watch him approach. Boldly I stare, enjoying his toned six-pack and sharp V pointing the way to his semi-erect cock bouncing off his thighs as he walks. “Fuck me. I never thought,” he mumbles under his breath, looking over my limp body, rubbing the center of his chest with his palm from the side of the bed. Smoothly, he picks me up and cradles me to his chest, walking back to the bathroom where the room is misty and filled with steam. With his one hand,

he pulls the glass door open and we step under the strong hot spray, letting it stream and pool on my pelvis. It feels like a warm blanket covering me. My muscles relax, letting my body go weak and my head drop back. The water is now draining in waterfalls off my long hair, sloping between my breasts and stroking over my hypersensitive clit as it swirls down the drain in a kaleidoscope of painted colors. Talon gives me a moment to enjoy the sensation, and he warns that he’s going to set me down. “Are your legs going to work?” There’s a smile in his tone. I think he’s enjoying all that he’s doing to me. When he sets me down, my legs are a bit shaky, but I manage, bracing my hands on the

moist tile wall. I guess two orgasms will do that to you. He begins delicately washing my hair, working the finest smelling soap suds over my body. The thought of being marked with his scent feeds the hungry insecure girl inside me with hope and possibilities. I’m taken aback by his gentle side, and he continues to watch me intently, scrubbing me clean from all the paint. I turn so he can get my back, and he steps up flush to me, pressing his face into my neck and letting the sponge drop to the floor with a splash. “You don’t know the restraint I’m exercising right now. You do it for me, Lo. I feel like I can never get enough of you. I can’t stop.” His voice burns. His jutting

cock inches between my butt cheeks as he kisses and nuzzles my neck with his hands pressed to my lower stomach. I squirm against it, sighing happily. In a rushed flurry of words, I want to tell him how happy he makes me but fear it will come out too strong. He’s never been this way with anyone, so I hesitate. I turn around and look him in the eyes, placing my hands over his beating heart. “Then don’t. Who says you have to?” His eyes change to something strange, and his hand moves up and cups the sides of my face, pulling it towards him. He leans in and gently kisses my mouth then pulls back, seizing my eyes. He pauses then softly says, “You’re my best friend. You know that, right?” I

continue to look at him with such love, feeling every emotion in his words. I tug him into my arms and bury my face into his chest, squeezing the everloving shit out of him. My arms start to burn, but I don’t stop, wanting him closer than humanly possible while he happily kisses all over my head, anywhere his lips can reach. I bring my face up, and his lips melt with mine slow and passionate, taking my soul kiss. They say actions speak louder than words; well, I’ll be damned if those words don’t hit me pretty hard. Like the water, our hands and our lips begin to cool. Nine lingering pecks sneak out, each one slowing the next until we rest our foreheads together

completely content. He leans back, keeping me twisted in his arms. “Come to bed with me. It’s late. You’ll stay, won’t you? Please,” he whispers gently, staring at me expectantly. I smile and happily nod. This is the only place I want to be. “Yeah, I’ll stay.” He throws smiling kisses on me as a silent thank-you and helps me out of the shower, wrapping me up in a white fluffy towel. I dress in his T-shirt, and we comfortably sink deep under the warm covers, locking our bodies tightly together. And that’s how we stay, continuing to be gentle with one another passionately until our lips are raw and swollen. Right now would be a good time to

close the book and end my story with a happy ending, but you and I both know that’s not going to happen. There’s always a calm before the storm.

Chapter 14 Lo Time doesn’t exist. Heaven, magic, and happiness do.

The ground is warm, even with the grass cushioning my back. I’m peacefully relaxing, observing whimsical pink and white blooms fluttering from the branches above. They look like tiny fairies with the sun as their backdrop. My skin tingles with each one

that drops onto me then tumbles off with a push of the breeze. My arms fan out, running over the blossoms that have fallen to earth, feeling their silky texture, crushing their delicate petals. I sit up, shaking out my hair, letting Mother Nature’s fingers glide through each strand. Not a care exists in this world full of jealousy and hate. But nothing is permanent, not even our troubles. A crack of lightning and a roll of thunder have me gazing up at the rapidly developing churning black clouds. Within minutes, heavy drops of rain drench the sod, transforming it to muck and mush, releasing earth’s distinctive perfume. Survival instincts tell me to get up and leave, but it isn’t that easy. My

legs are stuck to the ground. The more I move, the harder it becomes, sucking my limbs in deeper. I try and try, using all my strength, but the more I struggle, the faster I sink. Bit by bit the ground swallows me whole, and right before my head goes under, I take a lungful of air, hoping for a miracle. But miracles don’t exist here either. My body is exhausted. My arms and legs stop fighting. My lungs burn for air, but I know I can’t take a breath. My head is pounding from the screaming echoes of my voice. I look up and stay very still. I start to feel sleepy and my mind is peaceful.

Then everything goes dark. I’m going to die. Violently, my eyes rip open. Talon is partially on top of me with his hands in my hair, pressing his lips to mine firmly in an unhurried kiss. His eyes are closed, and I’m shifting all around, trying to catch my bearings and my breath. I can’t breathe, so I suck in air through a break in our lips, trying to mask my anxiety. He holds me passionately, whereas I cling to him frantically, squeezing my eyes closed. Carefully, he bends down and tenderly claims my lips again, dragging the tips of his fingers up my arm and entwining our hands, lightly brushing his lips against mine. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” he

coaxes, sealing it with true love’s kiss. My heart flutters and my body calms, knowing I’m safe and secure in Talon’s arms. I raise my other hand and caress over his shoulder and down his arm repeatedly. “Good morning, Prince Charming.” I giggle. His voice is deep as he chuckles. “Do you know you’re so damn cute when you sleep?” My smile turns shy and my cheeks flush. “Your face twitches like you’re being tickled. Your smile is so pure, like a newborn baby, and your hands flex like you’re trying to grab for something.” I worry, thinking about what he might have seen next: the sinking, the

drowning, and my demise. What a terrible nightmare, but I don’t worry long since he returns my attention to him with the brush of his nose. “Mine,” he speaks softly, breathing it across my face and covering it up with kisses. I almost miss it. “No sleeping with Maggie’s brother anymore, okay?” I furrow my brows, flinching back to glower at him. “What?” “I mean it. He can go find someone else to fuck around with.” The bed shifts and he rolls away and out of bed. “I can’t believe you ever slept with that square asshole. How boring.” I’m thoroughly stunned. I can feel my temper rising the more he talks, not believing what I’m hearing. I watch him

stretch with a yawn and scratch his stomach. Then in three . . . two . . . one . . . I break. “Excuse me?” I throw my legs off the side of the bed. “First of all, he’s not an asshole!” I stand, stretching as tall as God made me, getting ready to stick up for my friend. “And secondly, not every female is a slut!” “I never called you a slut.” He points a finger. “No, you just basically said I have slut tendencies. And it probably helps to be sexually active to be a slut.” I start to collect my things, searching for my panties. He does a double take. “Whoa, what?” Striding over in a couple of

steps, he stops me with a strong grip to my upper arm, holding my eyes, scaring me with what I see in them. He gets it. The shocked expression tells me so as he runs his eyes up and down me, as if I should look different because I’m a virgin. “Say it. I want to hear you say it.” “Does it really matter?” One side of his mouth tips up. He nods, keeping his tone neutral. “You know you’re just another girl. It doesn’t matter if you play hard to get or hand me the key to your fucking chastity belt. Pussy is pussy; the slits all run in the same direction.” My mouth falls open. I can’t believe my ears. His grip on my arm loosens, and he steps to me, using his hand to gently brush my cheek. “But I

don’t want just any girl. I want you. I love exactly how you are. You.” I cover my mouth with my hand, taking a deep breath. “I want to cook you heart-shaped pancakes and accidently burn them because we’re too lost in a kiss. I want to show up at your door at three a.m. just to snuggle. I want to be your protector.” My breath is shaky as I slowly blow it out. “I never cared to take the time to get to know someone or was brave enough to bare my soul, but with you all my ghosts disappear. You’re my fresh start. You don’t make me feel butterflies; I feel fireworks.” I don’t know what to say, so I blink back tears, absorbing his words. “Don’t you see it’s different with

you?” He cocks his head to the side. “But a virgin?” I shrug and nuzzle my face in his warm chest to hide. He runs his hands over my hair and kisses the top of my head. “This changes nothing. I can wait.” I smile big! Things in the universe can’t be more right. Everyone deserves happiness, and for once, I think I’ve finally found it.

Sadly the summer is winding down. It seems to go by in warp speed. Micah moved out a week ago, buying the third house we looked at. The place couldn’t have been more perfect. Maggie has cut back on clients in preparation to start

school, and Talon and I spend more and more time together as if that’s even possible. We’re simple: dinners with our favorite TV shows, strolls on the boardwalk where we had our first non-date watching fireworks, and lying on the couch with my head on his lap, reading while he strokes my hair. I’m falling in love with him fast.

There is no better feeling. He might as well have shouted it from the rooftops because we’re kind of a package deal. Wherever Talon goes, I’m sure to be next to him. I’m not going to deny that I love it. Talon is true to his word. He never pushes or tries to make me do something I’m not ready for; though it’s really hard at times. You try stopping a locomotive going full speed with a simple “no.”

The weekend before school starts we have a major end of summer blowout down at the beach. Around ten of us load up and head down to Siesta Key to bid the summer farewell. It’s epic. Talon and I are lying under a set of palm trees in a hammock when I bring it up. He’s softly running his fingers through my hair, humming. “Will you tell me about your family?” The humming stops; the hand in my hair stops; everything stops. Maybe even time. After several beats of silence, I twist myself to glance up at him. His eyes are far away, and he exhales noticeably harder. “Please,” I try coaxing, running a hand over his chest. His foot on the ground that he was using

to rock us starts bouncing; he’s obviously uncomfortable with the stirring of his memories. Finally, he looks down on me, stress creasing his forehead, and I know the answer. “Lo, I’m having a wonderful time with you. Can’t we just relax and be together?” “I thought we could tell each other anything. I know you’ve had a rough childhood, but—” “I don’t want to talk about it.” He watches me, his eyes ordering me to not push. My eyes roam back out to the ocean, and I silently wish I never asked that stupid question. He’s told me numerous times that he’ll open up when he’s ready,

but when? I pay for that question for the rest of the evening with his silence.

The next day we practically spend the whole time outside snorkeling, jet skiing, and playing volleyball on the beach. I’m exhausted and immediately go to bed while everyone else hangs out in our living room.

I sleep terribly. The next morning I’m out on the hotel balcony, watching the ocean, when I feel Maggie by my side.

“I need to tell you something.” I briefly look at her and bring my

eyes back to the rolling waves. “What about?” “Last night, after you went to bed, I noticed Talon quietly get up and leave the living room; I watched him go in the direction of our room and disappear. I followed him, peeking in the darkness through the crack of the door he left, and watched.” Maggie pauses. “He stood at the foot of the bed without the slightest movement, staring at your sleeping body lying face down, naked. Your sheet must have worked its way down in slumber, because it was barely covering your butt, and your arms were bent around your pillow.” I remember: I was naked because I had a bad sunburn and couldn’t bear to

have anything touching my skin. Maggie goes on. “Slowly, he walked to the bed and gently sat next to your hip, stretching a hand to the opposing side. With a fluid movement, he bent down and inhaled your skin in between the dimples of your back at the bottom of your spine. I heard a soft growl and him whispering against that spot, ‘I will never let you go, my love. I will always protect you; for your heart is the first one I’ve ever owned.’ “Then he peppered a few more kisses and stood staring down at you. Just then I accidently bumped the door, widening the opening with a creak. Talon’s head swung my way, and he took a deep breath, straightening his stance,

knowing he’d been caught. No words were exchanged, but after a few beats, Talon looked once more at you and moved to me, both of us stepping into the hallway and closing the door behind us. “He asked me what I heard and I didn’t want to lie, so I told him all of it. “He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead and reopened them. ‘Please don’t tell Lo any of this. She means so much to me. I don’t want to freak her out.’ “I almost spilled all your secrets but would have felt bad because they weren’t mine to spill, so I asked, ‘What if her feelings are just as strong as yours? Wouldn’t it be worth it to try?’ “A sad smile developed then

disappeared and he shook his head. ‘She’s too good for me. I can’t be what she needs. She needs somebody who doesn’t have a dark past.’” I deeply inhale a mixture of salty air and say nothing. “I’m sorry, Lo but, I felt like you needed to know.” “Thanks.” My thoughts are running with that little bit of information she gave me. Strangely, it isn’t helpful. It has turned into a burden since anytime I ask about his past he gets agitated and changes the subject.

We’re three weeks in to classes and things are going great. Right now I’m sitting in art with Mr. Sheedy, reminiscing, when the words “extra credit” catch my attention.

“Okay, everyone, settle down. Settle down,” he yells louder. The room calms and everyone gets in their seats. “Some quick announcements, I’ll have your tests graded and posted for you by the end of this week. Secondly, there’s a great art show set up this weekend. I recommend you all try to go. There will be a lot of breakthrough artists, great art, and raw talent. Sacrifice one night from your socalled hectic lives. Tweet ‘you’re busy’ on Facebook, and turn off your beepers or whatever you kids do nowadays. It’s a quick, easy hundred points. I don’t just want you to go and drink the champagne.

Meet the artists; pick their brains; learn something.” He pauses. “Then write me a one-page summary of whom you saw, what spoke to you, and what you hated. I’ll have flyers up here on my desk; pick one up on your way out if you’re interested.” He claps his hands together once. “Okay, now back to today’s assignment . . .” His voice fades out to my thoughts. That actually might be fun this weekend. I wonder if Talon will go with me, but I don’t get to ask him that night. He says he has something he has to attend to, which leads to Maggie and me going out to dinner. This is nice. Since Talon and I got serious, Maggie and I have seen each other less and less, even though we live

in the same condo. “Is that a bite mark?” I ask, leaning into her, just now noticing it since we sat down. This is the first time ever that I have seen Maggie blush with shyness and pull her scarf higher up her neck. “Maybe,” she mumbles into her napkin, wiping her mouth. I grab her wrist mid-swipe and use my other hand to quickly push the scarf off her shoulder. Yep, two perfectly curved rows of eleven or so teeth marks. “Okay, okay, you caught me,” she says, brushing me off. I wrinkle my forehead, giving her a leveled eye. “I know you didn’t give it to yourself, so who?” She delays by blowing her bangs

from her eyes, staring at me, fondly smiling. “You don’t know him. Don’t go all Mother Goose on me. I can see the look in your eyes.” “Was it Stone?” “Nope.” I pin her with a you’re-notgetting-out-of-this glare. “He came in my salon a couple of times.” I raise my brows, wanting her to add a little more. “His name is Bain Shaw and he was born to fuck. His voice alone can make me orgasm.” She looks to her lap then back at me, leaning in a little closer. “There’s a rainforest in my pants just thinking of him. He is sick, like crazy kinky shit. But, girl, it’s goooood. He puts the hot in psychotic,” she continues, raising a hand to the Lord matter-of-

factly. What kind of kinky stuff? It certainly piques my interest, and I’m about to ask her when the server comes to our table, silencing us with the best smelling plates of food. “So you think Talon is going to talk engagement this weekend when he takes you out?” she throws at me, causing my eyes to spring as wide as they’ll go. “What, are you crazy? Why would you say that?” She starts laughing as I stare at her, not laughing. What is so funny? “God, I wish I had a camera to record your face. You’re funny. No, but seriously he hasn’t asked you?” I shake my head, dumbfounded. “Ask

me what? To marry him?” “Shh, no,” she says. I’m getting loud. I can feel my pits starting to sweat. “He mentioned that he’s taking you somewhere very nice but didn’t elaborate.” The second we exit the restaurant I call Talon. He picks up on the third ring. “Hi, babe,” Talon yells. There are lots of voices in the background. I hesitate, trying to piece together where he might be. “Where are you?” “Coming to your place now.” Then all the sounds seem too disappear. “Are you home yet?” “No, but I’ll be there in ten minutes.” “Alright, I’ll see you very soon; be careful.” Then we hang up.

I brush off my questioning feelings the moment I open the door and am blown away with his masculine self. As I blink up at him, he grabs my face, leaning in, giving me an easy romantic kiss. My heartbeat flutters and all is good. “I missed you,” he says, holding me in his warm embrace. “Let’s lie down, and you can tell me about your day.” Nipping my bottom lip, he softly kisses me again, walking backwards down the hall. Good, then maybe he can tell me about his.

Chapter 15 Lo Talon won’t tell me where we’re going, but told me to dress nice. I’m wearing a pale blue fitand-flare dress that hits just above my knees. The gold statement necklace lies perfectly over the small amount of cleavage displayed by the V-neck of the dress. I pair it with a soft gold clutch, two gold and white bracelets, and white pumps that have the heels and the thin straps around the ankles dipped in gold. A minimal amount of makeup highlights my features since

my skin still holds a nice tint from summer. With a light coat of mascara and a blowout of my hair, I’m done. Before I leave, Maggie compliments my appearance, kisses me on the cheek, and tells me to call her as soon as he pops the question. I not so nicely tell her to go eat a dick. Calmly, she reminds me that it was just a joke, not a dick, and to not take it so hard. Then she leaves to call Bain.

From start to finish, every detail of the evening blows me away. At quarter to seven, I open the door to danger. I can see why they say the world is a dangerous place, especially if Talon lives in the world. No girl is safe. He looks edible. He’s wearing the costume of a good boy, decked in a sharp black blazer, gray shirt, tie, and slacks that fit to a T, showcasing his buff muscles and

trim waist. A dreamy hmm vibrates out from my throat, and I feel a pull in my pelvis. Giggling, I wonder if he bought the outfit special for this occasion. Whatever he has planned is big for him; the whole idea makes me giddy. He even calls it a date, an official one. The moment we enter the doors of the restaurant I’m blown away by the pure opulence. Marble pillars support the hand-painted dome ceilings that keep my eye. Ambient lighting and Italian tapestries embody luxury and romance. Talon leads me to our table with the softest of touches and pulls out my chair. I appreciatively smile, taking my seat, and he hurries to join me on the other side, a strained look on his face. The

gentle hum of the harp plays low enough to not be a distraction in the center of the room. I drape the cream-colored napkin across my lap and eye him suspiciously. A thoughtful look beams from his features, and he appears slightly fidgety, taking several large gulps of his ice water. “What’s gotten into you that deserves all this?” I say, shifting my eyes all over the room, referring to it. I bet people wait months to get a reservation. What a romantic place to propose. No! No! He smiles breathtakingly beautiful and tenderly takes my hand in his, resting them on the rich fabric covering the table. His hand displays a light tremor, but he tightens his grip on mine and it

disappears. My fingers tingle from his touch and my breath quickens. “Sweetheart, do I need a reason to take you out?” Shyly, I nibble at my lip, feeling silly for asking. Throughout the seven-course dinner, I find myself covertly analyzing Talon’s every move and his every word. Numerous times he unknowingly touches his left pocket, which appears to have a small bulge. I can’t tell for sure, but my stomach doesn’t care. It clenches, threatening to expel all previous courses to the table. I’m afraid to go to the restroom for fear my napkin will be artfully folded again and a very tiny, very expensive present will be hiding

underneath. I convince myself that it’s nothing more than a simple idea vindictively placed in my mind that I’m running away with. The food is extraordinary, masterfully cooked and plated in the most appealing ways. Our fabulous waiter is removing our seventh plate when Talon breaks out in a light bead of sweat, which lines his forehead. He gracefully blots it away as I look down, acting as if it never appeared. Instinctively, I reach around the roses and place a comforting hand on his, folding my fingers in his sweaty palm. Like magic his face softens and a charming smile blossoms. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

I smile back. “Yes, many times, thank you.” Talon uneasily nods at the same time glancing down. “Right, right, of course.” I’ve never seen him nervous. He’s a bundle of nerves. Looking back up, he sighs deeply, and my faux reassuring smile silently screams for him to just say it and get it over with already. He’s stirring up my insides into a mucky pool. “You know I didn’t have the best childhood growing up. It’s a poor excuse, but it’s tainted how I see a lot of things.” I narrow my eyes, trying to understand. It’s hard to fathom because I had nothing but a loving protective family growing up where affection was a natural daily occurrence. He continues.

“But with you . . . I don’t feel like a failure. I couldn’t have prepared myself for what you bring into my life, and I have this overwhelming need to be with you even if I just dropped you off after a long weekend.” A long breath comes from him as if all his stress goes with it. Then a warm smile appears as if he’s remembering something that makes him happy. “It’s crazy to think how we started off as the most unlikely of friends.” I smile; I tried so hard to deter him back then. “And do you know what I’ve learned through this whole experience with you?” My eyes stay intently connected with his, and I think I shake my head. I can’t remember, but he continues anyway.

“It’s that I love you.” He speaks those words so gently. I rest my other hand over my heart, my breath quivering. Those three simple words make me happier than I could have imagined. It’s like an oath of acceptance, a confirmation of respect, and positive reassurance of his love. It makes a warm sensation burn in my chest. “This is who I am and yet you still stand by me.” His face is so real and so honest. Talon lets go of my hand, and I pull my fingertips to my lips, watching him stand up and fish in his left pocket. Oh no, oh no, I think, squirming in my chair. My eyes lock on the small navy blue box he holds in his hand. Don’t kneel. Please, don’t kneel. Whew,

okay good, he’s sitting. He places that thing in the center of the table and pushes it slightly forward then waits. I swallow hard. What is he waiting for? Where the hell is the waiter? My damn water glass is empty! With the realization that I haven’t blinked, haven’t looked up, I shift my eyes to the strikingly goodlooking man waiting for a response. My face must have seemed panicked because Talon scoots his chair closer to me and takes my palm and knee comfortingly in his one hand. His caring touch gives me strength and I relax. He brings my hand to his lips and presses a loving kiss to my inner wrist, touching my eyes with his. Then slowly he leans over and opens the box. It all happens in

slow motion. Nestled in crushed velvet is a beautiful dainty silver necklace with a round black pearl and a small diamond pendant. It’s elegant and simple; I love it. “Talon, this is so beautiful,” I say, fingering the pearl, looking up to him. His relief is almost palpable. “You like it?” “I love it! Thank you,” I say, holding it to my heart, bending forward to kiss him. Breaking away, he takes both my hands in his hands. “I hope this isn’t too much, but when I saw it, I had to get it for you. Some people believe that a single drop of rain falls from the

heavens and with time it becomes the heart of the oyster. That’s what it means for me too. You fell to me from heaven and have become my heart. I love you.” My heart soars and love takes root. As soon as I say, “I love you” back, his mouth covers mine eagerly. Pulling in a breath, we lean back, smiles resting on our lips, a light blush on my cheeks. “Let’s get out of here,” Talon says, his eyes shimmering. Nodding, I can’t agree with him more.

The weekend is here, and Talon and I are on our way to the art gallery. My makeup is more

theatrical than usual: dark smoky eyes, cheeks popping with color, and kissable nude lips stand out. Maggie styles my hair in a whimsical updo and lets me borrow the most lustrous emerald chiffon evening gown. The fit is flawless and accentuates my feminine figure. The top is a strapless heart shape, and with each breath, lush cleavage rises and falls over its rim. Dainty diamonds line the top of the bust at the neckline then ribbon over my shoulders and down my back, outlining the plunging V that runs to the bottom of my spine. The waist is trim and flows down my legs to the ground. With every step, the slit that runs up my thigh kicks open, revealing smooth creamy skin.

We park just around the corner of the building and walk to the front of the Copa Crave Gallery. The exterior is simplified in solid glass and the interior is packed with people.

Each room holds the work of a different artist, soft music is piped through hidden speakers, and every wall is painted pure white to not take away anything from the art. Talon and I wander from room to room, critiquing, his hand softly resting on my lower back while we walk. We speak with artists, collect information, and say hello to some of the other students I recognize. The first room holds nothing but landscaping: mountains, landmarks, and oceans. The next displays abstract Picassotype stuff: bright colors, morphed pictures of people’s faces, and things I had to tilt my head sideways to

understand. Another room we find ourselves in is the largest and filled with massive slabs of graffiti art. The large slabs are positioned in a labyrinth: a complex design of turns and dead ends we have to navigate to get out. We go in one way and out another. This room is drawing a lot of attention, and when we make it in, I can see why. The collection displays gorgeous women in their most vulnerable state, completely nude. Only a shadow, body part, or sheer piece of clothing covers their private regions. The paintings range through every emotion a person could have. Several pieces are incredibly

moving, and I find myself getting pulled in by the emotion of the person painted. A young woman sits emotionally broken, her petite body folded in on itself, so depleted she can’t find the strength to exist. It’s done in black and white; her tears prick my eyes. My hand reaches out and touches the shadowing; I can feel her pain bleeding out through every long stroke. Strangely, she and I have twisted similarities. The deeper we move, the more provocative the images become: a woman’s wrists bound to the headboard, two men experiencing love for the first time, or a ménage a trois still tangled in a mess of erotic bliss. I can see why this artist is one of the favored artists at this

showing. This room is packed and this art is amazing. My stomach clenches and my body warms, imagining myself in half of these paintings. I wonder if people actually posed for him or if they were generated purely from his own imagination. I’ve forgotten Talon is next to me when he squeezes my hand and gives me a playful wink. “You okay?” he asks. I just nod, realizing I’ve been standing still observing one of the slabs for some time now. We finally find the artist but meander casually, waiting for the crowd that surrounds him to thin. I can’t see him since his back is to me, but clearly he’s the master of the images, and the more I stare at his work, the more questions I

have. A soft vibration makes me glance to Talon’s pants pocket. Holding his cell phone up, he tells me he’s going to take it outside and will be right back. With a tender brush of his knuckles to my cheek and a soft peck, he excuses himself out the way we came. It wasn’t easy getting where we’re standing, so I plan on staying put. The large group has moved on, and I figure now is as good a time as any to dissect his thoughts. As I approach his back, he must have sensed me and turns around. That’s when my heart stops. All six hundred and forty muscles in my body lock up. A disorienting storm of emotions takes over: fondness, loss, affection, disgust, and so many more. In a rapid fire

montage, I relive every good time we had together and the atomic bomb that obliterated us. He blinks a couple of times, now getting the full view of my face. “Lo?” He stops. “My God, is that you?” Heath cautiously stands in front of me. My voice is tied up in silence, and I have a hard time looking at his face. But that voice . . . it is masculine and smooth as verbal anesthesia. I’m instantly conflicted. One second I want to run back into his arms, and in the next, I want to slap the good looks off his face for showing back up and uprooting problems I’ve successfully buried for the last nine months. That face represents so much hard-pressed devastation for

me. Sorrow morphs to hurt and hurt turns to anger. My sanity needs to stay intact if I have any hope of making it through this night without breaking down. “It is you! I can’t believe I finally found you!” Found me? Like you even tried to look. He takes a step forward, ready to wrap me in his arms, but I take a step back, extending a hand out in front of me. “Don’t” was my welcoming word. All happiness falls from his face when I bring my eyes to him. I shouldn’t have. His hair is longer and shaped in the sexiest style of mess I’ve ever seen, and his facial features appear more defined than I remember. His body looks amazing in a navy vest overlaying a red-

and-white checkered collared shirt, a red tie is halfway tucked in the vest, and a chain drapes from one of the pockets on his chest. Each of his sleeves is fastened three quarters up his arms while the other quarter shows off someone else’s colorful art. Shapely dark jeans hang from his waist all the way down to the tan Brogues on his feet. We stand there staring at each other; his eyes narrow to my icy mood. “What’s wrong with you? Is someone hurting you?” Yes, you. He’s probably running through every scenario to figure out why I’m acting so docile. Sadness bubbles up in my soul; bubble by bubble it surfaces. I need to get out of here. With torn conviction, I subtly shake my head

and dart in the opposite direction from the man I once loved. I don’t realize it at first, but Heath catches my wrist and swiftly hauls me away from his work and into a secluded back hallway painted dark gray, maybe near the back entrance of the building. My heels stumble to keep up, and my traitorous body doesn’t even fight him through this whole thing. When we come to a stop, I rip my hand from his hold. “Keep your hands off me,” I seethe, taking a few steps back. My wrist still prickles from where he grabbed it. Heath holds his hands up. “Okay, okay, just please don’t run.” He stares down at me at the same time as I take a deep breath, gathering up my courage. “I

know what you went through was tough, and I fully empathize with what you’re feeling, but we need to talk about—” “We? We don’t need to talk about anything, and you don’t know half of what I went through. So don’t spit your sympathetic bullshit at me.” I lived through that hell already. I don’t intend on suffering again. Whether he likes it or not, he played a solid hand in my downfall. I gather up my dress, ready to leave, not knowing where I’m going just as long as it isn’t here. “Wait! Don’t leave me!” My body stops. “Don’t you remember? Remember us? I used to be your whole life; now you won’t even let me be a part of it. Please just give me five minutes.”

For the briefest moment, my heart hurts for this man. I had acutely lacerated my love, our connection, and all communication with him, purely for my own self-preservation. Maybe now I’m strong enough. Five minutes doesn’t seem so long, and maybe, just maybe, it will make all my pain not so painful. Steading my posture, I mean every word. “You have five minutes.” Heath’s eyes light up with hope, but just as I say that, I notice Talon standing with his back to us at the end of the hall, maybe a hundred and fifty feet away. I completely forgot about him. His expression appears worried as he eyes every face that goes by to find me. How had I forgotten? Heath will have to wait.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this tonight.” I start backing down the hall. He trails me. “Then when?” I shake my head, giving Talon a quick glance. Talon does a double take, spotting me, and casually heads down the long hallway full of bustling workers. “I don’t know, but now is not the time.” Heath rushes me, firmly pulling up my shoulders ridiculously close to him so I have to bow back slightly to see his face. “I’ll be damned if you think I’m just going to let you walk away from me again. When?” His southern accent thickens with his anger and strong eyes bore into mine. I quickly glance back at

Talon and tense. He’s getting closer, weaving around the waiting staff that’s coming and going down this hallway. I twist back around. I have to do something, but what? “When . . . ?” He draws every letter out this time, lifting an eyebrow. Shaking from his grip, I’m able to think again, yet I completely miss his touch. I’m just not able to think as quickly as I need to. Heath swift connects the dots, spotting Talon’s approach. “Meet me at the Bora Stone Hotel tomorrow, room 8649, seven o’clock.” With that, he quickly grabs my left hand and presses a kiss to my ring finger, disappearing around the corner.

Within seconds, Talon reaches me, placing a hand around my waist and kissing the side of my head. But I barely feel it. For some reason, it seems dull compared to the tingling that radiates from my left hand. “I was beginning to worry I wouldn’t find you. Do you realize how big this place really is? Was that the artist?” He points. When I didn’t answer, Talon moves to stand in front of me, looking worried. I try to school my features, but I guess I don’t try hard enough. Heath has me thoroughly shaken. “You okay?” No. I shudder at the effort it takes to look okay, nodding my head and faking a smile.

“Did you meet everyone you wanted to meet?” Aghh! “I’ve gotta say that last guy’s work was pretty . . . interesting. I wish I could have been with you when you talked to him.” And I’m so glad you weren’t.

Chapter 16 Lo The next day I sheepishly sneak around the house, trying not to draw attention. For some reason, I feel I need to keep our secret rendezvous a secret, just like all the other times. I guess old habits die hard. The mere thought of seeing him again has me so excited yet unhinged.

With three hesitant knocks on the door of room 8649, the door opens. Wow! When I get a good look at him

straight on, his gray eyes throw me, appearing flawlessly smooth like liquid metal. I’m amazed at how much he’s changed. Though it hasn’t been terribly long, his features have grown more defined, chiseled. He’s a man and looks devastatingly handsome. Timidly, I swallow then speak. “Hi.” His mouth barely lifts in a smile, and he steps back, holding the door open for me. “Please.” He gestures with a hand. I’m careful not to brush against him, but it’s unavoidable when I pass through the cinnamon-scented Heath cloud that takes up the small hallway. His hotel room is nice. It isn’t the presidential suite, but I can tell it’s bigger than any of the other standard rooms here. Heath follows me

to the living room where I sit at one end of the couch, and Heath takes the accent chair adjacent to me. Neither one of us says anything at first, simply taking each other in; it feels unreal. Where should I start? My heart is pounding and I have to remind myself that this is just a conversation. “You know you’re late,” he accused. I know. I flash him a rueful smile, none too eager to start this conversation. No matter how many times I try to tell myself it will be okay, deep down I know it won’t. My gut tells me it’s a bad idea to meet up with him. I even planned the whole visit out in my head because I had to hold on to some weak form of control.

“Have you eaten?” I shake my head no. Gracefully, he smiles. “Good.” He adjusts his body in his chair, crossing an ankle over his knee. I squirm in the couch cushions, waiting. “It’s been a long nine months.” I force a nod. “I’ve really missed you.” Ouch. I drop my eyes. “It’s sad. I think about all the good times we had.” He pauses. “Do you?” I consider him with a furrowed brow. I can’t look him in the eyes, so I focus on his throat, feeling a fire burn inside me. What answer is he expecting? My honesty is lame, but it’s the best I can do. “No.” I lie. With a sad smile, he murmurs, “Wow . . . that stings.” It hurts to hurt him. We once had a painfully beautiful love and

he inspired me every day I was with him to step out of my comfort zone and explore myself. The doorbell chimes and Heath gets up. I watch and am fascinated with the colorful skin flexing over tight muscle, his white tee that tightens around his firm torso, and the snugness of his jeans. God bless those jeans! I have to stop my eyes from rolling back with desire. It’s only because we had once been so familiar with each other’s bodies. No, block that thought. I hear two low-pitched voices behind me followed by the sound of the door closing. Heath returns with two plates of food and glasses of wine. I don’t know if my stomach will allow me

to eat, but I try, not even tasting the food. “So how did you get into art? You never did any of that back when . . . well, you know.” Heath swallows his bite and answers. “It’s wild; it happened kind of like divine intervention. After you ‘left”’—he air quotes the word—“a part of my life shifted. A piece went missing. I never envisioned you to be a flight risk.” He pauses, leaving that heavy moment hanging in the air. I take a sip of my wine, hiding behind the slender crystal, remembering how cowardly I handled the situation. “For months I waited, waited for you to come back home or for a phone call or even a fucking light to be on in your house.

Anything!” He shakes his head. “What I got was nothing. I think it’s pretty understandable to say I was pissed. I was so angry at you. I couldn’t understand. “I developed a real destructive mean streak after that, which law enforcement didn’t appreciate very much. I went to jail many times for fighting, destruction of property, even thievery. You name it; I came close to doing it. The judge put me under house arrest and made me get a job at this hardware store down the street from my house. “One night, right at closing time, these rough neck guys came in. They bought a dozen cans of spray paint in a variety of colors, which really had me

wondering what they did with them. So I locked up early and carefully followed them. What they did with that spray paint was magnificent! The next day I left work with a few cans and tried it out for myself. It took some time, but I turned out to be decent.” “So you’re a graffiti artist.” He nods. “By the crowd you had at the showing, I’d say you are a little better than decent.” “Well, thank you. I simply used it as a way to channel my anger. I never thought anything would come of it.” I feel a pang of guilt that I had caused him so much anger. It was so out of character for him. “So how did you go from your garage to galleries?”

He smiles for a second like the next part is funny. “My work gave me power and pride—the control I needed to take something that wasn’t mine and to make it mine. I’d been working on a very large mural that stretched across three box cars. It was finished, and I snuck back down that night to the tracks to see if the train had gone, and that’s when I was ambushed. Supposedly, the cops had been watching me. I was none to cooperative, blackening an officer’s eyes. One of the arresting officers liked my work. He said he was going to give me a break, that he knew someone that would be really interested in my style. A week later I received a phone call from a gallery in New York, asking if I could

make a trip out there, so I did.” “Wow,” I whispered. “Yeah. Strangely my style seems to make people uncomfortable. In turn, that means a lot of attention, which equals a lot of money.” Heath gets up and moves my halfeaten plate away, settling in the seat next to me. The air thickens and suddenly I know we’re too close when the goldfish in my tummy starts flopping. I’ve never been so uncomfortable looking at him straight on. I feel like that inexperienced girl again. Ever so gently he coaxes my face to him with a palm to my cheek, holding my chin and diving deep into my eyes. “I have nothing if I don’t have you.” I draw in a shaky breath, trying to

remain composed. “I said it once and I’ll tell you every single day; you are so damn beautiful. Come back home with me. I’ll drive us out of here tonight. It doesn’t even have to be Texas. Hell, I’ll take you wherever you want to go; just say the word.” I think about it for a split second before being struck with a pang of guilt then shake my head back and forth, breaking his hold. It all sounds so dreamy, but this is my home now. I have responsibilities and school and people who care about me. Still, one half of me wants to leap into his arms, tell him how much I’ve missed him, but I don’t. “I can’t. I can’t do this.” I stand up. Heath watches my hand slip from his

fingers, and I slide my purse strap over my shoulder. I shouldn’t have come. I walk away, pulling open the front door when Heath’s hand comes from the side of my head and slams it shut, twisting the lock in place. When I turn around, he’s glaring at me, our faces not far apart. “Stop. You can’t always leave. I won’t let you walk away from me again.” “I’m not walking away. I’ll always love and support you, but I’m with someone and that means something to me.” Heath shifts back. “Ah, yes, the boyfriend. Does he know you? Does he understand your story like I do?”

“That’s not fair.” I shoot back, pushing at his chest. I don’t want to start this, but he reaches up and grabs me by my wrists. “Do you love him?” Yes, I think, nodding. “He’s so incredible and loving. I couldn’t ask for anything better. We’re comfortable.” “And what . . . did you not love me?” A silence passes through us that cuts me to the core. My head falls back against the door I’m leaning on, and I barely whisper into the air. “I think I loved you a little too much.” I pause, needing a moment. My hands are brought up and placed over his heart. The pounding is steady and strong, emitting vibrations that reverberate down my

arms. His forehead comes down and rests on mine at the same time as I close my eyes. He keeps his open. Swallowing hard, I struggle to get a hold of my emotions, knowing in my heart I loved him and that it’s not easy to just delete those emotions. After our moment, Heath pulls back and smiles remorsefully. I continue. “Heath, you became my whole world. I threw my family away for you.” I blink, quickly feeling the rush of tears coming. “And look what that got me.” A few droplets fall from my eyes, but Heath catches them with the brush of his thumbs, leaving his warm hands on the sides of my face. His comfort feels right, and I crumble into his chest, fisting his

shirt. I cry out all the hurt I never released, thankful I still have him. No one understands like Heath. He holds me tightly in his arms, his cheek resting on my head, and lets me sob my sadness into his shirt, all the while soothingly stroking my back with a hand. After what seems like forever, I start to feel like a fool, remembering where I am and what I must look like now. My chest shudders between breaths as I begin to pull away. Only he keeps me in his arms, stopping me with his eyes. His expression is serious yet understanding. As I look up through my wet lashes, Heath slowly brings his face to mine. Closing his eyes, he methodically

brushes our cheeks together and washes away the tears with gentle kisses. I don’t stop him. It’s the most comforting sensation. It reminds me of all the times he used to do that when we were together. I feel him delicately caress up my jaw, over my eyes, to the middle of my forehead, and back down with a pause at my lips. Waiting for permission. “If you don’t want this, you better say it now,” he says, angling his mouth back. “I want this. Take all my broken pieces, Heath, and make me whole again. Take away my pain.” I sniffle. He doesn’t falter with hesitation. He kisses me like he owns me.

The arm hooked around my lower back tightens, and his other hand on my cheek slides to the back for a firmer grip in my hair. Our lips move passionately slow, savoring the sweetness. I moan into his mouth, and everything around us disappears as the energy that once lived within is brought back to life. A peace of belonging. The mate to my soul. I hook my arms around his neck at the same time Heath slides his hands down to my butt, firmly holding my ass. A cheek in each hand, he picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist, letting my sandals fall to the floor. He carries me to his moonlit bedroom and kicks the door shut, never once breaking

our kiss. Setting my feet to the ground, Heath seductively peels away layer after layer of clothing, leaving me in nothing but my white thin lace bra and matching thong. We’ve played around sexually before, but the charge sparking between us now intensifies the whole appeal. Gazing down with a great aerial view of my cleavage, Heath releases a low growl and slowly shakes his head. “Wow.” My body remains still, except for a fine nervous buzz. With gentle hands, he lifts me and lays me down in the middle of his soft bed, taking a step back and boldly looking over my body with such need. His eyes finger over my skin, exploring. My nipples harden as if they’re being

touched. A low moan escapes his mouth, and I adoringly watch Heath rip his shirt over his colorful back and throw it somewhere across the room. Flawless muscles stretch and contract, creating the perfect six pack, and I feel my core grow good and wet. Locking sight, he rubs a hand over the boulder in his jeans, standing at the foot of the bed. My lungs beg for air through soft rapid pants, aching feverishly for him. One handed, he unbuckles his belt, letting the two ends dangle, the metal sides clinking together with the movement of his hips. With the other hand, he pops the button open and lowers the zipper, his jeans hanging open. I stare at his strong erection trying

to jump out of his waistband and begging to be let loose. My hands run along my body with the great need to feel something: my soft skin, smooth curves, and the power of being a woman. On the outside, I probably appear seductive and confident, when really I’m so scared, but I’ll never let that show. “You sexy little vixen, I’m going to treasure every part of that body,” he says, taking a nip of his lip. Placing his knee on the foot of the bed, Heath starts to crawl over me. Moving quickly, I stop him with the tips of my red toes, pressing them in the valley of his pecs. His mouth twitches out a devilish smile, and Heath tenderly collars my ankle in his warm hands,

lifting my toes to his mouth. Holding my stare, he playfully nips my big toe and one by one kisses each red piggy. My eyes dilate with lust and anticipation, watching him gradually trail kisses from my ankle, tasting his way up to my lips. Little wet spots cool in his wake, and I whimper since it feels like the tingling of a hundred tiny needles. With his hands knotted in my hair, our eyes make love and our lips kiss slow and true. Heath pulls back, whispering a breath away from my lips. “I’ve waited so long for this. I want to take this nice and slow, enjoy every second, but I keep getting a nagging feeling that you’ll disappear from right under me. I don’t like that at all.”

“Well, then, don’t stop; don’t think. I’m not leaving you,” I whisper, kissing the spot directly under his chin and affectionately nuzzling his neck. Heath eats up my words. His hands are more steady and confident exploring my breasts, taking the weight of them in his hands, and bringing them together. He kisses around my areolas, stimulating the delicate flesh and snuggling his face in the center of them. He takes them as communion, worshipping them. I moan and quiver beneath his body, arching them up to him for a fuller taste. I run my hands through his hair, making it wild, and take fistfuls at the base of his neck, trying to get him closer. “I’ve missed you so much, Lo.” Kiss,

kiss, nip. “The feeling of you in my hands is amazing. This is where you belong, with me, not with him . . . only me.” Kiss, lick, kiss. How true his words are. Things are just simply different with Heath. His knee shifts, and I look down to find it tickling my entrance. His mouth continues to tease down my neck. Shifting my hips, I squeeze my legs together, tilting my pelvis and grinding my clit in slow circles across his knee, my moisture darkening the blue in that spot. I shiver with pleasure, and a low moan vibrates his chest as he pushes that knee up into my core, jostling my body, deepening the rub. “Christ, you’re so ready for me. My knee is soaked.” He

breathes over my skin. As our wants increase, so does our speed. We grow needier, more demanding. I finger the ridges of his abs and squirm as he playfully removes my bra and panties, leaving my body bare to him, my skin bristling with uncontrolled desire. Rubbing down my body, he lightly teases the crests of my hips and caresses my lower belly. He smiles, liking his next thoughts. “Lo, my love, one day this beautiful belly will carry my babies.” He bends down and kisses right over my womb. I tremble at the thought. “You have quite an imagination.” I smile. Pausing, Heath leans back on his knees, intensifying the strain of his cock

against the fabric. His perfectly defined chest lifts with each pant. The sight makes my chest burn. With his left hand, he reaches over, grasping his belt buckle, and in one swift pull, he rips it from the loops, letting it dangle from his hand. I gasp wide-eyed. That is hot. Gingerly, he threads the leather belt behind my lower back and leaves it to lie flat. With two fingers, he gently touches me down there, running the pads over my folds, spreading a moderate amount of my moisture up and down and over my clit in circles, soaking me. I wither and cry out with the teasing brushes. When he leans down and takes a slow consuming lick, collecting a

mouthful of my flavor, the deepest pleasure shoots through me, almost taking me over. “Mmmm, you’re perfect.” He moans, making my toes point. “Sweeter than a Georgia peach, ripe and ready to be eaten.” He smiles. Oh God! Heath wastes no time at all, shoving his pants and boxers down and kicking them away. His erection juts out rock hard, rippled, and masculine. I stare slack-jawed between his legs, biting my pointer finger knuckle with worry. “Just relax and it won’t hurt as much.” Taking another disbelieving look, I furrow my brow, wondering how. Heath fists his dick in his hand and strokes it a few times, looking down the

length of it to my pink center. His eyes simmer, and he drops his shaft with a heavy bounce, sliding his hands around the back of my bent knees, adjusting my legs wider so that the back of my thighs rest on top of his upper thighs, our privates resting mere inches away. I can’t stop my hand from reaching up and pumping his shaft once, just as he did. It’s hot, thick, and glorious, jumping with excitement. “Shit, sweetheart!” he gasps, stopping me. “I want to enjoy this with you . . . no blowing it.” He smiles at his joke. I bite my lip, thinking about blowing it, getting my lips fully around him, and slowly swallowing as much of him as possible. My deep burning ache has now turned into a throbbing pulse.

Palming his cock again, he rubs the tip along my wet sex, dipping the head in just slightly and gathering up moisture. When he’s slippery wet and glistening with me, he uses the two ends of his belt and pulls my hips up with ease, the leather tightening against my butt and lower back but not uncomfortably. He aligns his hot tip at my entrance, and I can’t look away; I don’t want to miss this. I can feel the heat knocking to come in. Then, slowly he inches his cock into me with a hiss, halfway. I tense and squeeze my eyes closed at the painful stretch. I’m plenty wet, but he’s so big, and well, I’m so little. He tenderly touches my cheek and whispers sweet words, holding very still. My muscles

loosen around him from his words. When he moves again, dragging completely out and smoothly pushing half in, I almost lose my mind. This is sheet-clawing, toe-curling stuff. Then he pulls completely out again, using the belt to pull him halfway back in. By the fifth agonizing time, he tries taking me deep but hits the thin barrier and stops. Holding perfectly still, his eyes change, looking softly with questions. I lick my lips and barely nod. It’s evident what he’s asking. I follow his gaze to us connected, completely captivated at the sight and pleasure of our bodies bound. It’s fucking beautiful. When the light bulb in his head goes on and he understands what I’m saying,

he drops the straps with a moan and eases over me, sliding his hands under my arms and curving them under my back, holding his weight on his forearms and cupping his hands over my shoulders securely. The hold is tight and controlled. Like this he can set the pace and depth of penetration. There isn’t much room to wiggle. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” Heath professes. I love those words. My chest aches as I’m completely caught in the moment when his grip tightens and his lips seal over mine intimately. All I can do is inhale sharply as he claims my virginity with a firm thrust, breaking away the barrier, collecting a part that will forever be his. Burning pleasure

bleeds out from that spot, hurting so good. Heath holds very still. With shaky breaths, I purse my lips through the pain. He doesn’t move. His eyes stay softy trained on me as my body gradually accepts the intrusion. He fills every inch. When the burning starts to subside, my brows relax and I stretch up and place a kiss to his mouth, reassuring Heath with a smile. He smiles back. “I’m sorry, my love. I’ll go slowly.” My heart swells with love, nodding. His hips slowly start to move in and out fluidly, with no restrictions. Loving smooth strokes gradually build with intensity. It has me closing my eyes, but his silky voice has them popping back

open. “Open your eyes. Wake up with me every morning.” I bite my lip, staring up at him. “Build your life with me. I’ll give you everything you need.” Quivers ricochet in my groin when Heath leans his body to the right and pins my clit between two fingers, gently moving them in a circle. I moan, accepting the pure bliss. “I can feel you getting tighter; you’re almost there.” The hand on my shoulder tightens and the thrusts grow deeper and faster, more frantic. I relish the new sensation developing as the crown of his dick fondles my g-spot. “Oh God, that’s amazing . . . don’t stop!” I beg. With a few more pumps, his dick

thickens and my walls tighten, clenching, rippling down his shaft as every nerve inside explodes with the most satisfyingly charged orgasm. Our eyes stare unblinking, my nails cling tightly to his back, and I hear nothing but surrendering moans, groans, and ‘I-loveyous’ as we completely come apart and then fall closer back together. We’re both shuddering from the last bit of our release, breathing so hard we can’t move. Our bodies are speckled in sweat, and his cock is still throbbing inside me. I lick the heat from my lips, feeling more loved than I ever have before as he guides me through something I’m so afraid of. We don’t need words; we’re simply enjoying the

peace that’s blanketed the room, lying in each other’s arms, kissing. Heath shifts to the side, and I suck a sharp breath in with the drag of his penis. My tissues are sensitive, yet that simple move has me craving more. Heath gathers me up in his arms, snuggling me into his side. We share the softest of kisses and the softest of words, lulling our exhausted minds and bodies to sleep. I don’t have to worry about sneaking home or worry that I’ll be yelled at as soon as I step foot inside. For once it’s heaven to know my heart has finally found a place to go home to.

Chapter 17 Lo I don’t move all night. I don’t have any nightmares at four a.m. that leave me in a cold sweat or feelings of doubt. The next morning I wake to a trio of beautiful birds serenading me and the warmest set of arms with no feelings of regret. A world with him is a far better world to wake up to.

Carefully slipping from the bed, I grab the duvet cover at the foot and wrap it around me. I have a sway to my step,

and my skin glows from happiness. Finishing up in the bathroom, I eye the pink blush across my cheeks, the light sparkle in my eyes, and the smile I can’t quite relax. I reach down for the toothpaste when a colorful arm drapes around my neck like a statement necklace, and fireflies in my tummy spark to life, reaffirming just how much I love him. Instinctively, I rub that arm. “What do you think you’re doing in here?” Heath says in a morning voice, closing his eyes and inhaling the soft part of my neck. I giggle, squirming in his arms. “I do hope you’re not trying to wash me out of you.” “Heath . . .” I start out, but he bites my earlobe and trails kisses down my

neck. “Come back to bed.” “I will; just let me—” “Nope.” Effectively cutting me off, he scoops me up and carries me back to our disheveled bed. I fall face down on the mattress and stretch. Heath starts at the base of my neck and runs a firm hand down my spine to the two dimples at the bottom. Then with the base of his hands he runs them back up the sides of my back, squeezing the muscles at the tops of my shoulders. “Are you sore?” I moan. “Not up there I’m not.” “Mm, where then? Down here?” he asks purposely rubbing a finger across my labia, awakening my arousal. I raise my hips fractionally and spread my legs

so I’m almost on my knees, tilting my pelvis to give him full access. I want more. “Greedy little girl. Do you know how gorgeous you are? Come home with me, and we can play every morning like this.” Lightly stroking my backside with his hands, he lines himself up between my thighs, getting directly behind me on his knees. I’ve never felt this way with a man and my hips sway, pleading, feeling the moisture thicken. He grips my hips like a set of handle bars, steadily raising them to his level. My body lies at a drastic angle with my ass up and my face slanted against the mattress, his dick resting between the swells of my ass. “Lo, I can see your pussy glistening for

me; you’re so perfect.” With two fingers, he soaks the tips, bringing them to the soft patch of skin between my vagina and my anus. He smears the moisture there, using it to massage the delicate spot with one hand and my clit with the other. Periodically, he returns for more, never once pushing a finger inside me, stimulating random nerves and wreaking havoc on my insides, all the while slowly pumping his hips so that his penis drags along the center of my ass. I’m on the edge, moaning and squirming with pleasure. “Please . . . I need more,” I breathlessly demand. All of a sudden his hands forcefully grab my hips and his solid penis plunges into me deeply. I surge forward, crying

out, but quickly recover, matching his every pull with a push, deepening our momentum. I reach between our legs, finding his sack, and lightly graze my nails over his scrotum, feeling it tighten. “Fuck, Lo, your body’s unbelievable perfect. We’re perfect; I want this with you forever.” All I can do is whimper because the tip of his masterful penis is stroking my g-spot on point. I’m so turned on. My legs start to tremble as the pumping gets faster, hands grip me harder, and all control is lost as he frantically slams me firmly onto his cock. “I’m not stopping. This bed could be on fire and I’m not stopping until we’re both satisfied,” he says through heavy pants.

“No, don’t stop. Don’t stop. I love this. I love you, Heath.” In pure delight, every pelvic muscle constricts to the breaking point, and I cry out his name. Heath firmly clutches my hips to him one last time and holds still, pumping his seed deep inside me. Completely exhausted, he wraps his arms around my waist in a hug, and we fall, face down onto the bed, his penis still semi hard in me, slowly coming down from our orgasms. My eyes are closed and I can feel Heath’s pants graze across the back of my neck. My body is tender and my muscles sore. I can’t help but smile into the sheets, happily sated, mind, body, and soul. What we have is Organic,

Captivating, Magical, Manic, Heavenly, And Strong. Let no one take this away. We’ve taken a huge step, and now everything has changed. Heath has reached into me and carved his name on my heart, only to revive all the love inside me that had once died. He rolls off and collects me in his arms, pulling me partially over him. I rest my chin on his chest, looking up as he gazes down, sprinkling soft kisses to my lips. “I love you.” He pauses. “Do you love me?” “You know I do.” I simply state,

kissing his chest. Heath smiles and lets out a contented sigh, dropping his head back to the pillow. “So how is this going to work?” I ask. “I have school still until December, and—” “You have to get rid of your boyfriend first.” My heart sinks as reality starts to invade the hotel suite. All of a sudden the beautiful pearl-anddiamond necklace around my neck that I forgot was there, suddenly feels tight and constricting. God, what have I done? Not once did I think of Talon. I’m sure he’s worried sick. “Are you okay?” Heath asks. “You do agree, right?” I suck my lip in, knowing I need to

answer. “No, you’re right. I just don’t want to hurt him.” Heath kisses the top of my head, hugging me comfortingly. “Do what you need to do. My flight leaves today at noon, I have a couple more galleries I have showings at, and then I’ll be back in Texas for a while. Work out everything here and come home to me quickly.” He looks down once more and pulls me up to his lips from under my arms. I kiss him as best I can, considering the day I have ahead of me. Right then a knock comes from the front door, and Heath lays one last lingering kiss to rest. “I’ll be right back,” he says, getting out of bed. I take that time to find my dirty

clothes, sliding on my shorts and balling the rest up neatly so I can carry them. One of Heath white T-shirts sits folded, peeking through the open flap of his duffle bag. I reach down and slide it on. I don’t care that the big thing hangs halfway down my thighs; it’s heaven because it smells like him. On my way out, I pull the collar up to my nose and inhale—feeling more content than ever before, as thoughts of Heath saturate my mind. When I come around the corner, Heath is standing with his back to me in a pair of gym shorts, reading a small piece of paper that he’s holding in his hand. He doesn’t hear me come up behind him, and I’m about to wrap my arms around his waist when some of the

words jump off the tiny paper and drop kick me in my face.

BORA STONE Rm: 8649 Mav, hope everything is alright. I couldn’t get through to your cell, so I asked the front desk to deliver a message. Falling asleep wasn’t as easy without you next to me. You never FaceTimed and something didn’t feel right. I hope you made it in okay last night. Call me as soon as you get this. I love you. See you soon. Olivia xxxooxxx

My heart stops, literally ceases to beat. Maybe because it just died. Heath feels me over his shoulder and quickly crumples the note into a ball, playing nonchalant. I know better. The

poison has already traveled through my eyes into my bloodstream to all my major organs, destroying my heart and tainting my soul. I’m sure my face looks shocked since the proper words won’t form; only mean nasty word vomit comes to mind. Heath eyes me and holds his hands out to me. “I think we need to sit down and talk about this.” I can’t help the laugh that slips out. “NOW you want to talk? NOW that you’re being forced to tell me. How convenient. You never thought to bring up . . . what’s her name . . . Olivia before we fucked!” “You and I both know that’s not what that was in there,” Heath states, pointing in the direction of the dirty hotel

mattress I just gave myself up on. “No, you’re right; it was a nothing but a MISTAKE.” I shout. “We’re you even seeing me when you looked into my eyes and told me all those lies? You probably envisioned her the whole time.” I think I’m going to vomit. “Lo, baby, please!” Heath tries reaching out and touching my arm, but I recoil, making a bitter face. I put the appropriate amount of space between us that friends usually keep. What do they recommend? Six inches of personal space? Done and then some! I’m just glad something like this slapped me in the face now rather than after I flushed my life down the toilet for

shit. I move about, searching for my shoes and purse. I’m getting the hell out of there, now! Heath mirrors my moves, following me between the furniture. “Lo, stop! Don’t make us into something that’s wrong.” I flip around, my purse swinging across my body. “Excuse me. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure this is wrong!” I take a few steps in his direction. “Can I ask you one question? And no lying.” I pointed. “Yes, of course, anything.” “Where is this girlfriend now? Hmmm?” I wait, my eyes jumping between his. “Is she at the apartment you share? Sleeping in your bed? I bet she

even takes care of the dog you adopted like a family.” The asshole just stays silent. I guess he doesn’t want to convict himself. I shake my head, grossed out with the thought. “You disgust me.” I throw my wadded-up clothes in his face, storming to the front door. “Lo, I’m sorry,” he yells after me. “Save it! It’s too late to apologi—” In that instant, big arms spin me around, boa constricting my body, and solid lips silence me. At first I fight his hold, but he has me tightly pressed to his chest. I can’t win. I make my body go soft, non-reactive, but even that I lose control over. He presses his lips harder against mine, blending our tongues, and I obediently soften. My body melts into

his and he grabs the sides of my face, going to town. I’m pathetic, I know. I don’t even fight him after that. It feels too good. When my back hits the wall behind me, my brain reconnects. Abruptly, I shove him, delivering a sharp slap across his face. The sound echoes through the room, and I stare up at him, blinking away the tears that sting my eyes. “Don’t touch me! And that was for Olivia.” He flinches, but I think it’s my words that hurt more than the strike. The only thing I focus on now is leaving. With all my things, I slip out the front door, making it into the elevator when a hand catches the doors from closing. My body

tenses, and my angry glare is met by another angry face. “I don’t think you understand that I am not letting you go this time. I never thought I would find you again, and you’re all I want. I’ll end it with her; we’re done!” Staring hard, he tries to make his words mean something. The doors ding with warning, but Heath forcefully holds them ajar. Sighing, I make my voice sound as if I don’t care. “I don’t think you have a choice in the matter now, do you? Now if you’ll step aside, I need to get home to my boyfriend who does love me enough to put me first. Good-bye, Heath.” As if he lost all strength, Heath’s arms fall, and he takes a rigid step back.

The devastation on his face as the doors shut nearly kills me. I want to crumble right there but fight to hold it together a little longer. I rush outside, the warm air smacking me in the face. Keeping my head down, I stagger with blinding tears, watching them fall from my eyes and mark the cement below. I just need to get a block away. The sun is shining and it’s a beautiful day. The warmth of my body heats the shirt, and his fucking divine smell makes the gravity of the situation feel all too much. My hands twitch to rip it off and chuck it in a passing trashcan. Somehow I make it all the way to my bedroom and am relieved to find Maggie not home. I’m not ready to explain. The

second the door shuts my legs give out, and I wilt to the floor. I cry, blame, and feel sorry for myself, but that’s all I will allow . . . one night. There’s nothing left to do but let him fade from my memory like the damn bruises on my hips. Tomorrow I’ll wake up a new girl and treat our encounter as if it never happened. The not-so-funny thing about it is I worry more about the man-whore duping me than the nice guy. Unbelievable.

Chapter 18 Lo I pour every ounce of my being into my relationship with Talon. I’m scum and will never forgive myself for having an accident. It makes me feel better to call it that, even though I don’t deserve to feel better. I didn’t just accidently trip and fall onto his penis. Talon questions my whereabouts that night and it pains me to omit the truth, explaining that I accidently forgot my phone at home when a girlfriend from my writing class and I got

together to work on a paper. We had some glasses of wine, it got late, and I figured it was safer if I just stayed at her place.

Talon pulls me to his welcoming chest, relieved, kissing the same spot on my head that not twenty-four hours ago Heath had kissed. A small pang of guilt passes through me but is quickly replaced with begging to have his body all over mine.

I meet Bain under fortuitous circumstances. I’ve had a long day with school and fighting over something stupid with Talon. I just want a warm tea and a hot bath. Maggie must be out because the house is dark and still. I lick my fingers clean of my Hersey bar and apply the

lock. Successfully, I maneuver through Diddy’s landmine of squeaky toys, flipping on the light switch to the living room.

Oh my God. I stop dead in my tracks. A robber is in my house. A towering man, over six feet tall that could probably overpower me with just his pinkie finger is standing in my living room. He’s built thick and muscular. I have no chance. I remember from selfdefense class that I shouldn’t look like a shaky mouse, so I speak firmly. “Put back what you’re stealing and get out of my house now!” He laughs at me as if I’m a little child, and considering our size difference, maybe I look like one to him. Slowly, he starts to close the gap between us. “There’s just something

about a girl quivering when I make her nervous that turns me on. It gets me hard. Are you scared?” His voice is tranquilly smooth. He could probably tell someone to go fuck off with a broken beer bottle and he’d think that was a good idea. “Stop or I’m calling the cops,” I roar, clutching my phone. “Just leave and I’ll act like you were never here. One corner of his mouth lifts, unfazed, exposing an irresistible dimple, and then his ocean-blue eyes cut to the bedrooms behind me. “Bain, baby, I’m sooooo horny. What’s taking you so long?” Maggie whines. Bain? I freeze, knocked off kilter. Maggie’s born-to-fuck Bain? As he breezes by, Bain suddenly stops, boldly

holding my stare. I hold very still, trying my hardest to remain unintimidated. Smoothly, his big hand reaches out and swipes away a smudge of chocolate from my lip. I want to bat him away, but can’t, and remain speechless when he brings that finger between his full lips and sucks, moaning with pleasure. “Mm, just how I like ’em,” he mumbles, swaggering away. He seems to get off on making me uncomfortable. I don’t move or breathe until I hear the bedroom door latch. I shake my head, sucking in my lip, checking for any more traces of chocolate. Taking my pillow and pressing it against my ears does nothing to block out what I hear. I roll my eyes, wallowing in

Maggie’s vocal acrobatics. Her voice can, in fact, hit that high A. Diddy stands guard right outside her door, clawing the doorframe and joining the choir when things get intense. By three a.m., I call Talon. I can’t take it anymore, and I have to get some sleep before my big exam that day. Not ten minutes later Talon shows up and takes me to his place. “Why didn’t you just bang on her door and tell her to shut the fuck up,” Talon says, rubbing his sleepy eyes. “Because that was her place first; it felt weird. She wouldn’t have heard me anyway. The whole thing sounded like a bar brawl.” We cozy back up in his bed. “Mm,

isn’t this nice?” he says. “Wouldn’t it be even nicer if we did this every night? You don’t ever have to go home because this would be your home. I really don’t like you there when he’s there anyway. There’s just something about him that rubs me wrong.” He starts to strip my shirt over my head, dropping it to the floor. I’m bare-chested and my nipples harden instantly. He props himself over me, laying simple kisses across my chest, twisting his tongue around my hardened peaks. “Talon, that sounds very nice, but—” I giggle when he raises my arm and fingers the sensitive skin underneath. “No, babe, don’t say it.” I don’t. I’m successfully lost in

sensation and taken over the edge multiple times that night. He drives a hard bargain for me to move in, but in the end, my answer is still no.

Several weeks later I ask about Talon’s family again. If we are moving towards something serious, I want to know about them. He tries using sex as a distraction, but I shut him down with a shake of my head, batting his hands away. His demeanor hardens, and he swiftly shuts me down with a “no.” Hey, I had to try.

Out of the blue these random texts I try to ignore keep popping up. I knew who they’re from, but I pay no attention to them at first. It’s been over a month since the accident, and it’s getting old.

The less I know of him the better. We’re done, plus, the guilt alone acts as a deterrent to replying. I simply open the messages, delete them, and move on with my life. They start out with I’m sorry. I’m a fool.

Then change to I left her. Which turn into romantic words of I love you’s that would have been amazing to hear under normal circumstances. Poems, songs, pictures, and beautiful stories of us, they all grace the screen on my phone. I want to continue to be angry, but as time passes, it’s evident that it’s pointless. No matter if I ignore him or reply with something nasty, I can’t draw him away.

Whether I want them or not, I get constant updates. Maybe it’s a simple “hi” for the day or pictures of him working on his art and him touring. Curiosity always gets the better of me, and I secretly enjoy this knowledge. I’m proud of him. It’s November and my phone chirps with a message. It’s from Heath and is a picturesque scene of lusciously powdered snowcapped mountains off a hotel balcony. The message below simply reads Heath: Join me.

For the first time, a needy ache settles in my chest. Then I remind myself that people always want back things they

have no control over letting go. It’s human nature. Lo: This is how it has to be. You chose to make things hard. It could have been easy with a little honesty. Heath: Lo I’m sorry. I let her go. I never wanted to hurt you. Lo: Sorry? Well, so am I. You don’t just push one love aside for a newer shinier one.

That effectively shuts him up for a couple days.

It’s been a while since our trio got together: Maggie, Micah, and me. Talon informs me that

he’s just going to have a quiet night at home with Stone and to call when I get home. We choose this great Greek restaurant where people actually dance on the tables and throw napkins like confetti in the air and beautiful belly dancers prance around, shaking it to lively music.

I have this particular shirt in mind and can’t find it in my closet; then it dawns on me where it is. I snatch the Jeep keys off the hook by the front door and fly down the street to Talon’s. Using the spare key he had made me for me, I let myself in, almost crashing into Stone coming down the stairs. “Don’t you ever wear clothes?” I ask, covering my eyes with my hands. “Shit no, this is my house.” “Well, put some clothes on. If I were

Talon, I wouldn’t want to see you walking around naked.” “Ha! You don’t know half of what goes down. Your boy and I sword fight and have dick-measuring competitions.” I keep my eyes closed, waving my hands for him to stop. “Gross.” Then I hear the movement of clothes and barely peek to see that he slides on a pair of shorts. “What are you doing here anyway?” “I’m just coming to get one of my shirts. Where’s Talon?” “With you.” I give him a questioning look. “I know you have his nuts in your purse and all, but that’s not what I mean. He left maybe twenty minutes ago and said you two were going out and would

be home later.” Huh. “That’s funny because he told me he was hanging out with you.” “Well, shit, he’s not here. Just me, Johnson, and one hung low are hanging out tonight.” “Do me a favor and don’t mention this, okay?” “Whatever,” he says, walking away. Why wouldn’t Talon mention that he had somewhere to go when I just talked to him, unless . . . Dang, this hurts.

Chapter 19 Lo I watch Talon a little more closely after that. My guilt has me believing he’s guilty of something as well, but time after time nothing strange stands out. He’s his usual demanding, affectionate self. Our usual week progresses filled with the gym, school, Wrecker’s, and nights at his place. No cause for concern.

It’s Stone’s idea to host Thanksgiving, opening his home to

anyone that has shit for parents or can’t make it home for the holidays. Most of the students stay for Thanksgiving but fly home for Christmas. Talon preps me for finals and I pass with three A’s and a B. The one-year anniversary of my parents’ death is fast approaching, and it seems to always be on the cusp of my mind with whatever I do. Heath’s texts intensify. Heath: You’re strong. I love you.

Several hours later . . . Heath: Let me come to you. I love you.

I appreciate them but know I have to get through this day on my own.

Very early morning I wake with an explosive scream to a crack of thunderous lightning. Images of hissing fire and pleading screams echo in my head. My body shoots straight up in bed, my hair is balled in knots, and my skin is doused in sweat. Frantically, I look around, noticing my curtains are wide open, and I can barely see the sky through the steady curtain of rain. My clock reads 4 a.m. Maggie comes barreling through my door, tightening her arms around me in a firm hold. I shake; everything feels so real. “Shhh, you’re okay. You’re okay.” She soothes me, rocking. In that moment, I just need her with me. She won’t ask questions. She knows.

Time passes and I catch my breath and the trembling slows. “Are you going to be okay today?” she asks, scrutinizing

my eyes. I lie. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Maggie stares at me with one raised eyebrow for a moment. “Do you want me to stay with you? We can eat tons of comfort food and watch funny movies. What do you say?” I’d say that right now I just want her to go away. “If it’s okay, I’d like to just be alone. Please.” “Sure. But you holler if you need me at all. I won’t go far.” “Thanks.” Maggie leans down and kisses me on the forehead the way my mom used to. An eerie dark pain leeches out in my chest and saturates my demeanor, changing it. I want to hurt, relive my

pain, and have to beg for mercy. Nothing can save me today. I deserve this. I can’t fall back to sleep. Believe me I’ve tried for hours, just a lot of flipping and kicking covers. Around eight o’clock Talon calls, but I send it to voicemail. That’s my first mistake. Sending him to voicemail three more times only adds insult to injury, and I know he’ll be over here faster than a Maserati. Not ten minutes later I hear strong voices and some thumps on the other side of my door. My heart races as I curl my sheets around me and pray he won’t force Maggie out of the way and barge in. I wait expectantly, but my door remains safely closed in silence. My second mistake is digging out the

large box deep in my closet of old photo albums, mementos, and clothes. I wrap my body in my mom’s favorite jacket as if it were her arms and wear my dad’s tattered ball cap that reads US ARMY above the bill. I scroll through books and books of photos that range from them as kids to the Thanksgiving before their deaths. Almost forty years of memories, some that I know and others I’m seeing for the first time. With each flip of the page, the hot tears flow openly, my body shakes with pain, and I deplete every ounce of energy in wails under the pull light in my closet. Leaning back against the inner wall under a row of hanging clothes, I draw my knees up to my body and close my eyes with relief, tight and

heavy from exhaustion. My chest hurts, and I sit there for hours, listening to the rain and thunder. Each stabbing memory cuts slightly deeper than the first, opening me up further and threatening to defeat me. I allow that defeat to metastasize into a demonic burly spiketoothed monster, and silence is the food that feeds that monster. Will I ever forgive myself? I’ve spent weeks and months over analyzing the situation and the life I didn’t appreciate. So many kids out there don’t have parents half as good as mine were. They showed endless love, and all I wanted was for them to disappear. I thought I knew better; boy was I wrong. If only I’d known then what I know now

... When I find the strength to lift my body from the puddle of tears on the floor, I glance once more at the box of torture. I hadn’t noticed it before, but at the bottom, covered partially by a shirt lies a DVD. I pull it out, turning it in my hand. Morbid curiosity, that’s my third mistake. My finger moves of its own accord and presses play on the player. First, my bottom lip starts to quiver, and my eyes brim to the edge with an overflow of tears that I quickly bat away with shaky hands. My father. So young . . . maybe early twenties.

Alive. Handsome. Brightly shining . . . Subconsciously, my body drifts forward, holding my breath with rapt attention. When the creamy sound of his baritone voice hits my ears, I cover my mouth with my hands and openly sob, listening. My darling Lo, I know I’ll be waiting a long time to give you this video, but I had to make it because I don’t want the emotions I’m feeling at this moment to fade and you not properly know them. My plan is to give you this on your wedding day, so if you’re watching it, congratulations. I’m incredibly proud of you. Right now you’re a week old and are happily sleeping in your mother’s arms.

The camera swings over to my mom. She’s so young. She’s has me swaddled in the fluffiest pink elephant blanket, rocking us in a wooden rocker. My little eyes flutter open for a brief second, and my pink binkie bounces with every suck. Mom is staring, studying all my tiny features, wearing an intoxicating smile, which makes my eyes crinkle up, and I smile. We’ve been up all night, not because you’re a tough baby, but because we can’t stop admiring the small angel that fell from heaven who barely weighs seven pounds. I couldn’t wait to have you outside your mother’s body and in my arms. I’m struggling with the truth that even though you were born to us, you’ll only belong to us for a heartbeat. I know somehow, one day when I’m not looking, you’ll find yourself and become curious. Everything will change heartbreakingly fast.

I know I’ll make some mistakes over the years, but I can honestly say I will always do what I think is best for you in that moment. The mind of a growing young lady is a fascinating world that will take great patience and skill to maneuver through. I will catch your tears, hold you close when you scrape your knees, and hunt down any guy who tries to break my daughter’s heart. Count me in. I’m there. Your mother and I will forever be a part of you. I hope you choose a man not like me, but better. Marry a man who doesn’t sit down but stands up to protect you. Marry a man who will make you proud to have a son that’s his replica. Remember he’s not perfect and you’re not either. Life is not about racking up points against each other when you fight. Don’t magnify the little things because, believe it or not, that’s really what they are, little. Use me as your strength as I walk you down the aisle, and I promise I won’t let you slip. Alive or dead, you will forever be my baby. We love you wholeheartedly and are so very proud to call you

ours.

With two fingers to his lips, he blows me a kiss, blinking away a glassy twinkle. And then the screen goes black. That’s my motherfucking tipping point! I make many mistakes after that. I silently raise my eyes to God and ask why, feeling the fast flowing tears roll down my cheeks and rush down my neck. It’s hard to swallow, but somehow a laugh breaks through all the whimpering, then another, and another, until I’m full on in hysterics, sobbing, laughing, sobbing, and laughing. My sanity went insane. I tip my head back, painfully fisting handfuls of hair and scream! Moving at a frantic pace, with all my

might, I launch the remote control across the room where it shatters into a hundred shards of plastic before my very eyes. Somewhere off in the distance that I don’t care to acknowledge is Maggie banging on the door for me to let her in to see if I’m okay. I am so not okay. I rip my dad’s ball cap off and roughly shed my mom’s jacket, throwing them to the ground where I trample and kick at the threads. More shrieks and cries escape. When I look up from the floor, I don’t think; I just do. I run over to the TV and, with all my might, yank it off its stand and step back, watching it gloriously crash to the ground. Splinters

of glass soar and embed in the surface of the skin on my lower legs, and I don’t even care. I’m numb. Stronger heavier banging starts back up on the door behind me, but I pay no attention to it because my eyes lock on all those depressing albums. I run over and fall to my knees pretty hard; the albums and sweet letters get shoved in every direction. I’m rabid and so out of control that my hands shake terribly. Holding it up, I jolt the book of pictures back and forth, spewing the pictures from their safe pages. My hands fumble around the floor, and one by one I shred as many pictures as I can get my hands on. My eyes burn, and when I no longer can see anything, I sloppily shove

everything around like an angry toddler. “Why? Why did you have to leave me like that?” I chant, hearing a loud crash behind me and annihilating a strand of pearls my father gave my mother for their fifteenth wedding anniversary. “Stop! Oh my God, Lo, get control of yourself! Stop this now!” Maggie yells. That’s when strong arms twist me up from behind, tighter than a strait jacket. I fight those arms, but Talon uses his weight to restrain my jerking movements until I don’t have a single ounce of fight left. Some of his beautiful words trickle in and out of my subconscious, though I don’t believe them. The numbness I feel everywhere dissolves, leaving me with nothing but the jagged little pill of reality

to swallow. Talon’s lap becomes safe, and I lean completely into him hanging my head with much remorse. Maggie and Talon handle me delicately after that, cleaning my wounds, and placing me back in bed. Sleep swallows me up quickly, knocking me out for the next four hours. When I wake up, my head throbs and my face and ankles burn. My room is empty; all carnage and destruction has been cleaned up. Just then Maggie comes wandering in. Talon stays by the doorway, leaning up against it with his arms crossed, simply staring. She comes in for a big hug, squeezing a few stray tears out of me. I don’t want to cry anymore, and it

hurts to see that Talon won’t come near me. Talon wants to stay the night, more like strongly urges, but I decline. I don’t want to have to think or talk or even be welcoming. I need to simply be. My room is pitch black and silent with peace as I lie on my side in bed with my phone next to me. I’m done fighting, and if my fingers happen to find their way to the call log then so be it. I FaceTime Heath. It barely rings once when he picks up. With my room dark, he can’t see me, just a black box in his upper screen, whereas I bask in his handsome familiar face. “Lo, are you there?”

I sniffle, soaking my pillow with heavy tears. I keep blinking so I won’t lose visual of him as he speaks. “Love, I can’t see you, so listen to me. Are you listening?” “Mm hmm.” “Good. I know today wasn’t easy for you, and I wanted nothing more than to hold you in my arms all day and reassure you that everything would be okay. You’re an amazingly strong woman. You know that, don’t you, Lo?” “Sure,” I barely say. “Say, ‘yes.’” He corrects me. “Say, ‘yes,’ Lo.” “Yes.” “Good, love. And you also know your parents loved you so much or else

your daddy wouldn’t have kicked my ass that night at the lake, don’t you?” I laugh. “Okay good. Never forget that those two amazing people birthed, raised, and sculpted an even more amazing young woman. They would only want you to live in happiness and take everything they taught you, whether you rolled your eyes or not, and build a life twice as good as theirs. Can you do that, baby?” I nod. “Love, I can’t see you. Can you do that for them? For me? I need to know that you’re alright.” I swallow big, sniffle, and answer, “Yes. I’ll do anything you ask. And I know I’ll be okay. Do you want to know

why, Heath?” “Why, baby?” “Because you make me okay.” “Damn! That’s my girl.” I smile. “Heath?” “Yes?” “Will you stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep? I don’t want to be alone tonight.” “Yes. You don’t worry about me. Put the phone next to your heart, and that’s where I’ll stay.” “Thank you,” I barely whisper. “You’re welcome. I love you, Lo. Remember that.” “I love you too.” I leave it at that.

Chapter XX Talon “So where’s this Heath guy now?” I ask, standing next to her, watching her do a squat in front of the gigantic mirror that stretches down the gym. Lo told me everything . . . with the help of Maggie. Days ago the three of us sat down and Lo cleansed herself of every sordid detail. When the moment got tense, we’d take a break or Maggie would jump in and take over. My heart broke a thousand times for her, but now she seems restored. I envy her peace,

wondering how good it must feel to have all that shit off her chest and if I’ll ever be brave enough to do it.

I knew the lost, broken Lo, but that’s not the girl who’s standing in front of me right now. She no longer exists; she’s bolder, more certain of herself. She never breaks eye contact with herself, just shrugs and completes another squat. “I don’t know, Texas?” She says it like a question, which is good because it means they don’t communicate. I really don’t want her keeping in contact with him. It makes me foolishly jealous to know she has a connection with this guy even though he lives four states across the US. Still her answer pacifies me; I can never lose her. On her way up, I possessively slip my

hand around the back of her neck and stop her from doing anymore. I look at her straight on with intent, hoping she sees that I’m dead serious. “I don’t ever want you to hide anything from me, you understand?” Her eyes search mine for a second and then she nods. I believe her, releasing a sigh and dropping the hand from her neck down to her ass. I pull her into me so I can kiss her lips. All because she’s mine.

“Please tell me you’ll come with us. It’s still not too late for you to get a seat.” I overhear Maggie tell Lo. Maggie’s trying to talk Lo into having Christmas with her and her family back home. I want to step up so bad and add my two

cents, but from the expression on Lo’s face, I already know her answer.

“I don’t think I’m up for it, but thank you. Make sure you give everyone my love and tell them I miss them.” Maggie is bummed, while my heart skips a beat to know she’ll be with me— that she chooses me—and something inside me wants to make it special. Maggie, Stone, Lo, and I are about to head to a deserted part of downtown Orlando. Hutch gave us the heads-up that there had been a lot of noise complaints around Wrecker’s and the cops were patrolling that area more to appease the residents. We stay away from there a few weeks to let it cool down and usually it’s no problem. So we have to

move the party a little more North, kind of like our back-up spot. It’s seedy and has lots of homeless people, but it works perfectly because it’s surrounded by old skyscrapers and rundown high-rises. None of it is used anymore; it’s so badly vandalized and in rough shape that now it’s more of a graveyard for anything that stops there. “You girls stay close to us. I don’t want any trouble tonight.” The Spikers clan is coming down, and they certainly aren’t known for their kindness. Two of my heats are against two of their best; I considered leaving Lo at home but selfishly need her with me. I have her by the hand, and I’m not letting her go until I pass her off to someone I trust.

In the near distance, the dark sky billows with rolling clouds filled with lightning bolts, which illuminate the ground below. Hopefully, we’ll have some time before the storm rolls in. We go through the usual check-in process and paint numbers on our side windows with shoe polish. From across the grounds, I spot them: the Spikers. They’re eyeing us, and I use my body to shield Lo. God knows if they try something with her I’ll have to be carried away in handcuffs. We glare at each other, a look to fuck with the other’s head: a grimace two fighters give each other before a big match. What those fools don’t know is I have a secret weapon and she’s standing next to me.

My number is called, but before I line up, I need one last thing. Right in the middle of her saying something, I kiss Lo like I never want another pair of lips to touch hers again, to stain her skin. Then I turn around and walk away. I leave her breathless and dazed as I thrive on calm confidence. I’m up against a Toyota Supra twin turbo—fast son of a bitch. But this is the moment I’ve ached for, challenging others and dropping major cash into my ’stang, all for this. I don’t perform any compulsive sequences of movements to bring me luck; I simply wait. My eye is sharp, and my reaction time is even sharper. The Strikers are cocky and arrogant.

They’re known for playing dirty. The pot tonight is huge, but more than the money, I just want to affirm that their holierthan-thou mindset is just an illusion. I set my tires on the starting line and wait. Thweet. He whistles through his teeth to get my attention. Apollo I think is his name. “Hey, why don’t we make a wager?” My window is down, so I glance over into his open one. “We already have one.” “Nah, man, I don’t want the money, something better.” I raise my chin slightly to let him know I’m listening. “How about the winner takes that

sexy-ass blonde you were hogging earlier.” I have to turn my head because I’m going to bust through his motherfucking window. Then the bastard laughs. With one hand, I give the signal that we’re ready. I want to shatter him a new asshole and then shatter his jaw afterwards. I rev my engine several times to drown out the trash talking that continues and firmly twist my grip around Lo’s bracelets, giving me the sensation she’s sitting in the car with me, holding my hand and telling me I got this. I take one last glance back at Lo, and she looks straight at me. With the tip of her hand, she blows me a kiss, which I catch and bring to my lips, savoring it.

The warning horn blows, and a light conditioned sweat breaks out on my palms when I see the girl come out with her hands up in the air and stand in front of us. My focus sharpens, as I wait for them to drop. Drop them, bitch. Drop your damn hands, I repeat over and over. My heart is racing, pulsing with adrenaline, and then they drop. I release the clutch precisely at the same time as I smash the pedal to the floor. We’re quick off the line: first gear quickly followed by second, third, fourth, then fifth. The world blurs out my window, and my heart beats as fast as my aluminum pistons. We hang side by side for a bit, and then Apollo pulls away with the distinct high-pitched hiss

of nitrous oxide combusting in his engine chambers, but I don’t sweat it. Classic mistake. I bet he prematurely ejaculates as well. The surge of power makes his steering wheel hard to control, and I swerve when he jerks into my lane. That mistake opens the door for me. We’re so close I grip the wheel tighter and focus on the finish line just ahead. Not far. Take it. Take it; it’s yours. His front bumper is aligned with my driver’s side mirror when I power through the finish line. “Fuck yeah!” I holler, fisting the air. Everyone’s parked back at the starting line, so I loop back around and park alongside our group. Everyone cheers

when I step out, which makes me feel like a prince, but Lo running and jumping into my arms is really what makes me a king. I hold her high so she has to look down, and I look up, our foreheads touching. Her lips romance mine, and she kisses me like I’m returning home from war. Fuck, I love her. “I thought you were going to crash.” Her lips brush over mine. “What would I do if you got hurt?” I squeeze her tighter and move us so we’re angled away from everyone and lay into her, sucking and nipping at her lips to get them the shade of pink I like. “That will never happen. I’ll never leave you.” I’m distracted from Lo’s praising eyes when Duce slaps a hand on

my shoulder, making me set her down and turn to him. “Tight race, man. Tight race.” I want to kill him for cutting in on my moment, but he slaps a huge stack of bills in my hand and congratulates me. “Keep up the good work. If the skies don’t open up on us, you’ll be up again in a few.” I thank him and shake his hand, handing Lo my winnings. We watch a few more heats, keeping an eye on the horizon, nothing but heat lightning and thick swirling dark clouds crawling in. Then . . . drip, drop, drip, drip, drop. One by one, mammoth raindrops fall, transforming into a fullon downpour. “RUN,” someone yells, and instead of running to the shelter of

my car, I pull Lo by her hand into a nearby large cement drainage pipe. Our clothes are drenched and suction-cupped to our skin, and we’re laughing so hard it’s hard to catch our breath. She’s in my arms, and I brace her weight, when she suddenly bows back, sticking her head out of the tube. Her tongue stretches out, collecting a puddle of rain water, drinking it down with a playful smile. Fucking hell, that is sexy. I want a taste too. I drag my finger so softly down the center of her lips, and she parts them. Her pink tongue comes to the edge, baiting me. So I do what any horny, possessive, XY chromosomal man would do. I claim her mouth, lacing her tongue with mine,

pulling her in so she’s straddling my growing erection. I grasp the nape of her neck with both hands, pushing my tongue in deeper, imagining it’s my dick while her body relaxes and she presses her weight into me. The air in the pipe is getting muggy from the heat of our passion, but fuck, neither of us cares. Her shirt is sheer, showcasing her hard nipples, which are stabbing me in the chest, and damn, does it turn me on. Lo untangles our mouths and swipes her hot little tongue crossways over the seam of mine, and I try to nip her tip, but she pulls away, giggling. Then she does it again in the opposite direction. I nip but miss again. I’m severely sexually frustrated, and she’s severely satisfied

with herself. I growl, needing control. “Baby, just remember I’m bigger than you, and I don’t lose easily.” “Maybe I like pushing your buttons so you’ll force me.” Well, son of a bitch, I’m her man. I go in like I’m going to kiss her, but I don’t. I bite hard, making sure I leave her lips a little swollen. She makes the cutest little whimper that has every vein between my legs filling to capacity. Some things can’t be changed. I like it rough. The tender sweet side of me just hangs out in the darkness, rarely coming out to play. I don’t even realize my hands are popping buttons on her shirt until someone bangs on the top of the pipe and a head pops in.

“Hey,” Maggie shouts. “Races are cancelled; rain’s not letting up; time to go home. We’ll be in the car.” We both sigh in defeat, both so turned on it’s frustrating. Lo squeezes my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

A week later I’m standing alone in this big empty house. In the past, I would have thought this was heaven, but now it’s lonely. Is that when a man knows he’s ready to take a wife? To fill silent rooms with chaos and happiness? To put her needs above his and give her security? So many marriages go to shit. What makes that happen? Kids, money issues, infidelity, stress, lack of sex, bad communication. The fucked-up

thing is a person is four-hundred-eighty times more likely to get a divorce than die in a skydiving accident, yet everyone is afraid of skydiving, and no one is afraid of marriage. Look it up. I shit you not.

Everything is done, and I’m waiting for Lo to come through those front doors. It’s Christmas Day, but no one could tell from the décor in the house. Lo doesn’t feel like celebrating this year; she wouldn’t even let me get a tree. “If I so as much see a jolly grin on your face, you can spend the evening alone,” she threatened, poking a finger to my chest wall. She thinks over time society has lost the true meaning of Christmas; religion has become a distant memory with little importance. So I have a plan. No typical Christmas colors or

decorations have been used; it’s just a romantic scene you can envision in a Fabio love novel. Romantic, classic, the perfect environment to woo a lover, filled with all the things Lo loves. Cinnamon-scented candles infuse the air, only the accent lighting is on, soft music is playing in the background, and the fireplace is crackling because it’s unusually cold for December in Florida. It was a bitch to find one of those furry white rugs that I’ve seen in pictures, but yeah, it’s centered comfortably in front of the burning fire. I even thought it would be a good idea to open up and tell her about my little sister, but I changed my mind. It just seems too heavy to discuss on this holy day.

Tonight is all about Lo and Talon. I need to figure out what this something is that’s blocking us from being together one hundred percent. Does she doubt me? I don’t know what else to do besides surgically extract my heart and give it to her, bloody and beating. The click of the lock breaks through my thoughts. Wordlessly, she stands in the entryway, staring at me for a few minutes, taking a large gulp of cinnamonspiced air and exhaling with a smile. I shake a finger, walking up to her with a grumpy face. “No, go home. I can’t do it. No jolly grins allowed.” She smiles bigger, but I kiss it right off her face. “Hi,” she whispers, threading my one hand between her two.

“Hi.” I take her, walking backwards, pulling her to the island in the kitchen, and remove her jacket and purse, throwing them all in a chair. Then I lean back and take her in. Her hair is wavy around her face, and she’s wearing an oversized comfy off-white sweater with spank-me pleather jeggings. Leopard boots bring her three more inches to my level. “You look very nice,” I say, rolling my hands over her pleather booty and testing it with a smack. The crack is louder than the strike. I really like them. “I knew you’d like them.” She smiles playfully. “You really went all out. I thought I said no celebrating.” “Don’t get all upset, and we’re not

celebrating the holidays. Go sit down in the dining room. The food is ready.” I love control and tonight I am the maestro. The dining room is completely set, so all I have to do is push in Lo’s chair and bring out the food. The room is accented with fresh flowers and navyblue-and-gold glittery pieces. After almost six years, Stone’s mom’s precious china is finally getting some use. I bring out plates of lemon-buttered chicken with a side of garlic mixed greens and mashed potatoes. We overstuff ourselves, not worrying about cleaning up, and move our party to the living room sofa. “Argh, yuck, I ate way too much,”

she says as I take her hand and direct her to sit next to me. She does one better and cozies her head up on my shoulder, tucking her legs under her and her body into my side. I drape an arm over a thigh, cupping her knee, lightly kissing her head then resting my cheek on it, and feel a stir below simply from her body touching mine. Silence, yet I can perfectly hear a hundred tiny words being spoken. After some time, we pop on the television and watch the first five episodes of Outlander. Seriously addicting. After the fifth episode, Lo excuses herself to the bathroom, so I rush off to the kitchen, un-wrap the tray of fresh double-chunk brownies and

chocolate-chip cookies, pour two glasses of milk iced to order, and sit and wait back in our spot. Seconds later she’s back, catching sight of dessert with a huge grin. “Wow. I’m seriously impressed. You know this is the straightest route to my heart, don’t you?” Like a sick fool, I just smile. “Eat up. We have eleven more episodes to finish.” And then I gaze into her solid stare, catching the heat in her eyes. I’m right there with her and my inner workings stir. Calm down. She’ll tell you when she’s ready to get physical. Smoothly she drops to her knees between my legs and I’m thrown. “What are you doing?” I ask, my voice shaky.

Each time we start to mess around it gets harder and harder to stop. Her hands run up and down my jean-covered thighs while her mouth shifts over my zipper. My eyes stay firmly glued to the top of her head. “Just let go and relax.” She hums. That shit’s just not possible. The sound of my zipper has me tilting my head to the side to watch her work. Delving through all the layers, Lo reaches in and pulls me out with her small hand, moaning at his heavy appearance and brushing her velvety tongue once to the underside of the tip. Harshly, I suck air in through my teeth. “Fuuuuck!” That feels like electricity. I’ve been blown tons of times, yet none

of them felt like this, new and exhilarating. Her soft lips seal around my tip, firmly and slowly dragging downward, encasing my raging cock in wet warmth until the tip hits the soft patch in the back of her throat. I can’t stop my eyes from rolling upwards, and I rest my head back. Her mouth pulls back up and her palm travels behind in its wake, stroking my slippery length, using her thumb to massage my swollen tip in circles and then taking me deep again. “Holy shit, Lo, you’re amazing. That’s it; relax your throat.” Both of my hands fist her hair while my hips uncontrollably push deeper, essentially making her choke. She recovers quickly,

tipping her soft green eyes up at me, and continues to suck me right with long slow strokes. The sight is unparalleled, and I physically have to bite my lip to control the strong urge to turn this rough and aggressive. In between Lo’s sucking me and raking her nails down my balls, I carefully pull off her sweater and bra, leaving her bare so her nipples rub my inner thighs, turning them into torpedoes. Her tongue plays along my shaft and twirls around the head, gradually increasing its speed and intensity, choking me up. My mind hops a one-way train to Lo’s Promised Land, and then it occurs to me that she’s still a virgin and I have to take this slow. Gentle. Usually I’d run

this full speed into the ground, but I need this to be perfect for her. She trusts me. No virgin deserves painful sex, and I’m paralyzed with the overwhelming sense to please, cherish, make love. Make love . . . what is that? I’ve never done it. I cup her cheeks in my hands and pull her off my cock, gently pulling her face to mine, claiming her lips so, so softly, knowing they’re tender. Standing up, I take her around the waist and gently place her in the center of the furry rug. I unbutton my shirt from the bottom to the top and shed all my clothes, letting them drop next to the cocktail table. My cock is livid, waiting impatiently, but he’ll have to wait a little longer.

I kneel over her, undoing the top button on her pants, and draw down her zipper, peeling her jeggings off inside out and throwing them to the side. Her panties are sexy as fuck, and I just want to eat them off her pussy. They’re white with silver metallic embroidered vines. The straps lying over her hips are dainty and thin with two tiny bows perched on each side. I run a finger under the elastic and let it pop, drawing a moan and a shift of her hips. “I like these.” “Then don’t rip them.” Her sassy mouth warms me and makes me harder. I do rip them because what’s underneath is way more important. I toss them to the side, and fuck me if she doesn’t whimper my name. I can’t take

my eyes off her as I let my hands explore, memorizing what makes her moan and bite her lip, what makes her come alive, and loving her body all the way down. Our mouths come together and sparks erupt between our tongues, twisting the two together. Tenderly, I finger her throat to her nipples, massaging around her hips and gently stroking her budding core until her pussy is nicely glistening. The smell of innocence. She happily withers under me, stretching her hands above her head. Holding myself up on top of her, I push her hair back, appreciating all the beauty before me. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes dilated, and her skin carries a light layer

of sweat from the heat of her body and the fire warming us. I draw my face close to hers. “You sure you want to do this?” If she’s not ready, I’ll retreat to safer ground, even though we’re both hot with desire. Her eyes are intensely filled with love, and I want nothing more than to take care of her. Take this slow and speak with my hands. She nods. “Yes, please.” Taking a controlling breath, I slowly kiss down the center line of her body, dragging my hands along her sides until I reach her bare mound. Lo parts her legs without me telling her, showing me her perfect pink pussy. With a light touch, Lo swipes a finger up the center of her core

and sucks on that finger from the corner of her mouth. The sight is extreme, and I throb and swell to unparalleled proportions. “Take me, Talon.” Fuck. Breathe. Breathe. Keep this slow. With kneading strokes, I rub up and down her thighs, loosening her up and creeping towards the spot I can’t take my eyes off of. Inhaling, I brush my tongue across her outer surface, slowly moving my tongue back and forth to nestle between her folds, lapping up drops of her arousal. Lo is smooth to the touch, completely waxed and wet. I push back her hood and suck on her clit, making pulsating motions with my

mouth, wanting to smile when she clutches balls of the fur in her small hands. She tugs the fur rug, and I imagine the prickling pain I would feel if that were my hair. Torturously, I push my tongue in and out of her opening, curving the tip to hit hypersensitive nerves. “Oh!” She moans loudly, kneading her breasts and teasing her nipples. Her hips move at a frantic pace, her muscles reaching for my tongue, seeking out her release. I throw an arm over her hips, avoiding a fleeting finale. “Easy . . . let me take care of you.” “Please, please, I need it.” She strains her words. Kissing her real quick, I lean over,

grab a condom from my jeans, and roll it on. Tenderly, I interlace our fingers, pulling her arms taut above her head, stretching her, giving her an affectionate smile as I settle between her parted thighs. “Breathe.” I stretch out that word and gently push into her, focusing on breathing through the demand to thrust hard. Inch by slow inch heaven encases me. “God, you are perfect.” I can’t help but praise her. Our eyes are connected until she tilts her head back, squeezing my finger tighter and moaning openmouthed when I’m completely in. Holy Christ, she’s magnificent and tight. My balls burn as I hold off my release.

Purse-lipped, I breathe out and hold still, waiting for her arched spine to drift back to the ground. With so much passion, I kiss her wholeheartedly until my dick shifts in and inches deeper into her core. Drawing my hips back, I begin moving them to a pleasing rhythm. I do my very best to not dominate. “Don’t pull your eyes away, baby. Keep them with mine.” Intently, she looks back at me, full on panting. The intense love I feel for her, her hot moans, and the unbelievable fact that this is happening are all so overwhelming. Still I need to feel all of her. Without missing a beat, I rip the condom off and fill her completely with

me again, making her eyes roll to the back of her skull. She knots her ankles behind my back, opening up a whole new world of sensations. Our connected bodies dive deeper, delightful shivers run hotter, and the will to prolong this grows bleak. Her head tilts back, crying out louder in pleasure, and I catch a pink nipple in my mouth, sucking, rolling the end between my teeth. We’re so close. I fix on her face, whispering sweet words, staying connected one way or another. When her orgasm hits, her lips stumble around our kiss but quickly catch pace again. I swallow every time she cries my name, loving the taste. Not a second later my jaw clenches and my balls constrict, rocketing a surge of hot semen

out of me harder than ever. Pure bliss. Exhausted, I drop down, trying not to crush her. I drop L-bombs left and right, meaning every word, and tenderly caress her, enjoying how well-fucked she looks. I put that look on her face. I made her feel all of that. I’m like a proud father holding his child for the first time. We will forever be connected by a simple act.

Chapter 21 Lo There are so many romantic words for love, thoughtful actions to perform to show it. Whether it comes naturally or not, it’s in all of us: some deeper than others. I wish I could think up the perfect words to describe last night, but I can’t because . . . there are no words.

Is it bad that I want to compare the two? Yes, it’s not even fair since they’re worlds apart, and both are exactly what I

need. For the next week, we stay knotted up, barely coming out to eat. It’s phenomenal. My boy Talon has much trickery up his sleeve. The weeks fly and classes are about to start back up again. Twelve credits down, too many more to go. Chime. I glance at my cell. Heath: It’s a new year. You know you’re in the right place when so much peace from your soul reflects outwards. Love you.

I gasp. There I lie in black and white, spray painted on canvas. In the portrait, I’m nude, on my back, crossways on the bed. Only my long messy hair is draped over the edge and down the side of the mattress. The angle

from which he painted it makes it look like he was on the floor sketching the image. My right arm is casually resting over my chest, hiding my nipples, and my knees are bent up and together. This is definitely after we made love. He’s right. I did feel peace. The painting still looks wet, and I wonder if he’s in his studio back in Texas this very second. It’s stirring because I feel so much guilt, thinking back to what I did, how I deceived Talon. I’m so sorry I did. A strong part of me feels guilty for simply enjoying Heath’s messages, even though I don’t control him. I won’t reply or say I love you back. Argh, I’m deleting the message now. A craving for chocolate has me going

to the fridge. M&M’s, my favorite. About half the bag might do the trick. I’m feeling the effects of Aunt Flow coming into town. Maggie is coming in the front door, holding the mail, and spots me. “Wait a minute. Come here and hold still.” She checks me out. The mega smile slides up and she chuckles. “Did someone get banged like a pinkie toe?” I can’t help but laugh out loud. “How was he?” I shake my head, feeling bashful. “How many times?” I shake my head again. “Give me something. Does it curve left, up, or to the right?” Another shake.

“Come on, is he circumcised?” I smile and nod. “I need to pat the man on the back for finding a way to break through all the cobwebs your coochie has been collecting for the last twenty years. You look more womanly now. Your tits look firmer.” I shake my head. “Period.” “Your face appears rosier.” “Hormones.” “You always seem really happy lately.” “Mood swings.” “See, if everyone would just have a little more sex, the world would be a much happier place. Do they even count horny as an emotion?”

She has me baffled. “Yeah, I’m sure they do.” “Here, this came for you today,” she says, handing over a large manila envelope. “Thanks.” I rip open the edge and pull out a typed sheet of paper with the Texas Police Department logo on the top of it. Ref. case #: BT64005388 Addressee: 5882 Regal Pines Rd, Austin, TX 78703 To the deed holder (Knight, Lo Ray): You are being notified that the address above was broken into and appears to have sustained a moderate amount of vandalism. The police department has roped off the home, and no suspects have been arrested at this time. For more information or to speak with the

detective handling your case, please call (648)555-0927 Thank you. Graham County Police Department, always on your side to protect and serve.

When I left a year ago, I had no problem collecting my things and leaving our home, but I couldn’t sell it. I take a deep breath, thinking about what needs to be done first. Should I call Heath and ask him to go to the house and check on things? No, that’s a bad idea. He’s probably busy, and I’ll still wonder what condition the house is in and what the thieves took if anything. Next, I call the detective. He doesn’t tell me much more than what was in the letter besides there has been a string of break-ins in the area and not to worry

because the police are getting closer to catching the perpetrators. Right. “What’s that?” Maggie asks, coming out from the kitchen. “It’s a letter from the police back home. My house was broken into.” “Oh, babe, you gotta go. School doesn’t start for another week; you have time.” That’s not the part I’m worried about. “Stop worrying. I know what you’re thinking, and he’ll be fine without you for a few days. Plus, he and Stone will be holed up at Lady Parts all this week anyway. You know the LTR race expo is coming up in Vegas and they’re going. Everything will be fine. Go!”

I breathe a sigh of relief. I can tell by his voice on the phone that he’s not happy. “You have to go this week?” “Yes.” “It makes me real uneasy that you’re going alone. Maybe I can shift my schedule around or you can leave on a different day and I can come with you.” “That’s not going to work. I’ll end up missing the first day of class.” “Damn it!” He yells, slamming his fist down on something so hard I have to pull the phone away from my ear. Then he pauses like he’s thinking. I quickly intervene, soothing him with words as I would my daddy. “I’ll call when I get there and check in

everyday, so keep your phone on you.” “Damn straight you will.” Then his voice softens. “Please be careful. You haven’t even left, and my mind is going manic already. I’m at least taking you to the airport and seeing you off.” “Of course, I wouldn’t want anyone else.” Now I know he’s smiling.

At least the flight was quick, but the deplaning isn’t. Some elderly gentleman is having chest pains. All I keep thinking is Please, God, don’t let this guy die on the plane. That has to be a bad omen. EMS, firefighters, paramedics, they’re all waiting at the gate.

“This is your captain speaking. For the safety of others, please remain seated

until all emergency personnel have exited the plane. We will begin unloading as soon as we’re given the all clear. Thank you for your patience, and thank you for flying with us.”

I hail a taxi and get the one that drives slow as molasses, or maybe my nerves are just too anxious to get there. After paying my fare and collecting my bags, I trudge up the driveway, surveying the front for damage. My luggage wheels bang up the front steps, and that’s when a man stands up at the far right corner of the house, startling a hand to my chest.

Heath Mavrick. He’s bronzed from the sun and barechested, glistening with sweat. He’s

wearing ripped jeans that are riding low on his hips and dirty work boots, and his white T-shirt is tucked in his back pocket. His hair is a mess as if he ran his fingers through it to keep it from falling in his dirt-streaked face while he worked. The house doesn’t look half as bad as I expected, and now I see that someone has already started the clean-up process. Broken windows are boarded up, half the house has been painted, and the landscaping has been kept up. I owe him so bad. I hold utterly still, turning my head to watch him approach. He stops one step below mine, putting us almost eye level. I clutch my suitcase tighter to keep my hands from touching him. “How long are

you mine for?” Heath asks, his hands resting at his side. I still feel tender from our last run-in and am not playing his game. “Let me remind you that I’m not yours, and the answer to your other question is four days.” “Deny it all you want, but remember . . . you are mine when you’re in my state.” Delusional bastard. He’s been huffing too many fumes. I move to enter, but Heath stops me. “Whoa, don’t go in there.” “Why? I need to see what condition it’s in so I can sleep here tonight.” “You can’t sleep here tonight. You don’t have proper windows or secure

locks.” I sigh. “I have an extra room at my place. We can—” “No! We can’t anything. Don’t you see that it’s a bad idea? I’ll go to a hotel.” “Why? That’s nuts! I’ll respect your boundaries, and we can talk about what’s left to do in the house.” He has me and he knows it. With that, I make a poor judgement call and believe him. He may not have a problem with keeping his hands to himself, but I think I’m going to find it quite difficult. We ride back twenty minutes later on his beautiful custom Shrike bike, my small suitcase strapped somehow to the back while my hands hold on to anything but him.

Dismounting, I take off his only helmet and use my fingers to brush through my unruly hair. My arms tremble with vibrating numbness from holding on for dear life, so I shake them out. Heath unstraps my suitcase and carries it up the front steps, holding the front door open for me. “Shall I carry you over the threshold, sweetheart?” “Don’t.” I bite. Heath smiles down at me as I enter. His house is gorgeous and clean, designed with all the natural features of a ranch home. Walls look like they were knocked down to open up the kitchen into the living room. Natural light spills in through large windows, highlighting strong wooden beams that vault into high

ceilings. Double French doors line the back wall, allowing access to a broad balcony that overlooks the swimming pool and running acreage. “You coming?” Heath asks from the stairs. Silently, I follow. He shoulders open the second door to our right and sets my luggage next to the bed. “You should be comfortable in here. Wash up, come back down, and we can discuss dinner.” I’m turning my head to acknowledge him when he brings it up. “Where is he, Lo? Does he even know you’re here?” My eyes narrow on him. I’d say this falls in our boundaries’ agreement. “That’s none of your business, and I’m not here to talk about him.”

Boldly, he takes a big step in my direction, holding tension in his eyes. “All I’m saying is if you were my girlfriend, you wouldn’t be flying way over here, alone, to check out your home that’s been broken into. If something happens to you, do you think he can get here fast enough?” Those intense eyes set on me. I use every ounce of my self-control to not burst with anger or wilt from sadness. I’m no longer that weak girl, but he’s spot on. “Can you please give me some privacy?” I say with a shaky voice. Breathe calmly in and out. Heath sighs heavily, dropping his gaze to the floor, turning on his heels. Just as he’s closing my door, he stops

and his voice turns very sad. “All I’m saying is a simple check-in at night wouldn’t be good enough for me.” Click. Click. I stare at the back of the closed door Heath just exited out of. Sitting down on the side of the bed, I rub my eyelids. Damn him! Stop it, Lo. He’s just trying to place doubt. Don’t let him. Bending down, I pull my phone from my bag and call Talon. I need his love. He’s probably going to yell at me since I didn’t call the second I arrived as I said I would. Anxiously, I wait while it rings and rings and rings until it sends me to voicemail. I hang up, not leaving a message and punch out a text instead. Lo: Made it safe. Don’t know much about the house. Will check it out tomorrow.

Getting something to eat. Call U later. I love you.

I need some time to compose myself. I brush out the knots in my hair, wipe away the smeared mascara, and check my phone a hundred times for a reply. After thirty minutes, I give up and head back downstairs. Heath is sitting on the couch, watching TV, his feet casually up and crossed at the ankle on the coffee table. He watches me take every step down, and when I hit the landing, he pats the cushion next to him. I take the farthest cushion away from him. It was just as soft and safe. “Everything okay?” he asks, studying me. Watching two people on the TV

flipping a house, I nod. “Yep.” I know he doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t question me either. “What do you feel like doing for dinner?” I shrug. “Whatever.” That has him shaking his head. “Stop this. I don’t want to see you like this.” “Like what?” “Like you need him to survive!” I bow my head; only the noise from the TV fills the room. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong,” I say slowly, lifting my head in his direction. Pain is one of the best teachers I’ve come to know and respect. Those weak, dependent, sad-girl qualities have since

been sealed up, scarred, and smoothed over to appear halfway normal. “Someone once told me that I was an amazingly strong woman, and I believe him.” I glance up, hiding the smile behind my knuckles. Nodding thoughtfully, he gazes across the couch. “Good. Then show me.” He stands up. “I’m going to throw some corn and chicken on the grill, does that sound okay.” I nod. He moves around in the kitchen, collecting everything he needs. “You need some help?” I yell, twisting and looking over the top of the couch. “No, thanks, you just keep relaxing. The controller is on the floor if you want to change the channel.”

Heath balances plates and tongs and spices, letting himself out on the balcony with an elbow. Discreetly, I watch him out the window, as he places everything on the grill and lights up a cigarette. That has me glaring until he comes back in, hands full. “Come to the table; everything is done.” I take a seat, idly waiting and watching Heath come in and out of the room with stuff. “Is your food okay?” He asks, pointing to my untouched meal and taking a seat. “When did you pick up that habit?” I sneer, the scent of nicotine polluting his warm scent I love. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I picked

it up from Olivia. I barely do it anymore. Does it bother you?” Hell, yeah, it bothers me. That name sparks a trickle effect and brings me right back to that day. Physically, I can feel it; my whole mood takes a dump. “What else did you pick up from Olivia?” He winces and sighs, putting his silverware down as I stand. “Thank you for dinner. I seem to have lost my appetite.” “Lo.” “No. Thank you for letting me stay. I’m just going to take a shower and lie down.” His red hot glare burns a hole in my back as I take the stairs to my room. I

shower and put on a pair of baggy lounge pants and a blue tank top and sit in the middle of the bed with my phone. Being all alone quickly reminds me that it sucks being alone. I just need some company, but right now I’m pissed at my only prospect for company. Loneliness is depressing. Loneliness gives you time to think. I don’t want to think. I don’t care to know why I’m jealous or why Talon isn’t here with me. Maybe I’ll go back down, just for a little bit. I’m debating, flipping my phone around in my hand, as if it’s going to help me decide. It certainly was a bad idea to stay here. I came for a reason and it wasn’t him. Four days, I can do this.

Correction, three days.

Chapter 22 Lo Talon and I talked for over an hour last night. He lifted my mood when he expressed how miserable he was with me gone and to fly my ass back home quick. Secretly, the sadness in his voice made me happy.

When I open the bedroom door, savory scents of breakfast foods tickle my nose. As I go down the stairs and into the living room, they just about

assault me, but the view from the back porch when I step off the bottom step, stops me dead in my tracks. One look and I have to go outside. Taking a deep breath of crisp morning air, I step through the French doors. My hands touch the morning dew as I lean over the railing to get a better view of the darkness disappearing with the help of the sun piercing through the tinted clouds. A gentle chill runs up my arms, and I curl them around me, not wanting to leave this view for a blanket. “Wow,” I whisper. I could easily drink my coffee out here every morning. I hear the faint sound of a door closing behind me and feel heat up against my back, though he doesn’t touch

me. My eyes blink softly and my left cheek drifts to the heat it senses next to it. His warmth feels good. When we connect, I let out a gasp. That’s when I see the affection in his face and pull completely away. “I’m sorry,” he quickly says as I give him a deploring look. Actions like these need to be dissuaded; they can’t happen. “I don’t want you to hide up in that room again.” “I didn’t hide.” “Call it whatever you wish. Will you please come inside with me and have breakfast? Then I can take you over to your house. Please.” “Fine.” We eat with very little conversation.

He tells me what to expect when I get there then gets ready. After another twenty-minute ride, Heath uses a key, unlocking a lock and holds the door open for me. “Go on.” I scrunch my brow. “I thought you said it wasn’t safe.” “Nah, it’s completely safe. How else was I supposed to get you to stay at my house last night?” His smile drips with charm and irresistible happiness. I’m infected, smiling back, elbowing him in the ribs as I walk past. “Ass.” He grunts once through all his laughter. The windows are boarded up, cabinets and drawers ripped apart, and shredded mattresses overturned. It breaks my heart, yet makes me so angry.

What gives someone else the right to come into another person’s home and treat it like a free for all? “You okay?” Heath asks beside me. Am I? I look around at all my things —things that are just things now. “Yeah, it doesn’t hurt quite so much anymore.” “Everything was in much worse shape. Your dad’s garage out back got hit the hardest.” His guns. Money and guns, isn’t that what they all want? Heath has all the supplies we need, and we start in the living room, throwing out or putting the furniture back in place. Most of it was destroyed. Now Heath is working in the garage, and I’m going

through drawers and checking under the box springs for anything of importance when something catches my eye. Pushed deep against the wall under my bed is a box. It’s so hard to reach. I lie on my stomach and wiggle myself under the bed frame, barely hooking the lid with my pinkie finger and carefully dragging it out. The cover is dusty, and my fingers leave marks when I remove the lid. “Oh my God,” I whisper, thumbing the many letters Heath left on my doorstep after my parents died and I wouldn’t talk to him. My throat has a hard time swallowing, suddenly choked up. Do I really want to read his words? Okay, only one. December 16th: Lo, please answer your phone.

Simple. Okay, maybe just two. December 17th: Lo, baby, please answer your phone or come outside to talk to me. I know you know I’m here. I’ve been banging on your door. December 18th: Lo, don’t shut me out. I know you’re sad. Please just let me talk to you . . . hold you. I can make it better. This wasn’t our fault. December 19th: Lo, I’m starting to worry about you. I haven’t seen or heard from you in days. Please let me in. Let me take care of you. December 20th: I know you’re getting my letters. I just hope you’re reading them. I’m sitting outside your house, hoping to catch a glimpse. I’ve been seeing a blond girl . . .

“Lo?” Heath yells from the garage. My heart stops mid-beat, so I throw everything back in the box and shove it under the bed. “Yeah?”

“I’m gonna go grab us some lunch. I’ll be back in ten.” His voice is in the same spot as the first time. “Don’t go anywhere.” “Okay.” I wait just a few moments, and then the box comes back out. . . . I’ve been seeing a blond girl coming and going, which relieves some of my stress. I wanted to come to your parents’ ceremony, but my parents made sure I didn’t. They said I needed to show respect and not interfere with your last moments with them. And if that’s what you wanted, then I wanted to respect that as well, so don’t think I didn’t care. I did!! I now know exactly what Romeo felt like when he couldn’t see his Juliet. You may not be ready today or tomorrow, but when you choose and that moment comes, I’ll be forever right there waiting. Choose to live.

Stupid, stupid, stupid me. I should have never read those letters. I shake off

the misty eyes but can’t clear the knots in my stomach. Folding up the letters, I place them all back in their grave and push the box in a far dark corner. After lunch, we call around for someone to come out and install new windows and a locksmith, and we haul tons of debris to the curb. We’re filthy and decide to call it a day when the sun starts to set. When we make it back to Heath’s house, we both go upstairs to shower, each of us branching to separate rooms, smiling at each other before disappearing behind closed doors. I scrub all kinds of nastiness from my skin, tinting the water gray. The heat from the shower is doing a fantastic job of softening my fatigued muscles. I don’t

know how long I’ve stayed under the spray, but a firm bang echoes through the room, startling me straight. “You alright in there?” Heath yells. His voice sounds so close. I wonder if he’s in the bathroom with me. “Will you go away and give a lady some privacy. And yes, I’m fine.” He laughs. “I’ve seen that hot naked body, have you forgotten?” Cocky bastard! “OUT!” Heath is out back, relaxing in an Lshaped wicker sectional, smoking a cigarette. As soon as he sees me, he scratches out the fireball. “Please don’t on my accord,” I loosely say, taking a seat. Neither one of us says anything; we simply enjoy the final minutes of the

sunset. “Thank you for all the work you’ve done on the house. I couldn’t have gotten it done without you.” “I’m happy to help.” “There’s so much more to do.” “Looks like you’re going to have to come back.” I pause. “Looks like it.” He sports the strongest smile, and I find myself admiring his amazing jawline. “I’ll be right back,” he says, stepping around me. Several minutes later he returns with two cups of tea, a lighter, and a blanket. I snuggle up in the blanket as Heath starts a fire, passing me a mug. “Thank you,” I say, feeling Heath take his seat next to me.

The crackling of the wood entertains us in our composed silence. “When do you have to leave again?” I ask, looking up at him. “Next week.” “Do you miss home, being gone so much?” Heath puts down his tea, bringing his knee on the couch so he’s angled closer to me and softly smiles. He looks down at my hand, which is resting on his side of the cushion, then back into my eyes. “When there’s no one at home, there isn’t much to miss.” “Oh, I suppose you’re right. You should really find a nice girl who makes you happy.” I instantly regret saying it because my heart really doesn’t mean it.

Though, it’s only fair that he has happiness too. His eyes cloud over, and he doesn’t look happy with me saying that. “I had all that already, and I lost her.” Struggling to swallow, I tilt my chin down and drop my eyes to my tea, which is rippling from my trembling hands. I try clearing my throat to talk, but it’s a weak attempt. “Heath, please don’t.” “Don’t what?” he whispers roughly. His knuckles slowly push along my cheek, and his fingers catch in my hair, pulling it back as he cups the spot under my ear. “Don’t act like we’re really not supposed to be together? Don’t touch you like you don’t belong to me? Don’t acknowledge the pull you know we’re

both fighting? How do you do that?” It’s a struggle not to give in to the love I feel for him. Even so, a problem still stands between us. “I’m with someone. You can’t keep pretending that after all these months we’re still together.” Shifting my hips over, I give us both some breathing room, letting his hand drop away. “Why can’t you fight for us like you’re fighting for him? You won’t even make eye contact with me because you know I’m right.” “Fine! Maybe you are right. But I didn’t come out here to reconcile with you. I have a life in Florida, a happy one, and I have to at least give that one a chance.”

Heath shakes his head in disbelief, tension marring his forehead. He pins me with his stare. Eventually, I have to look away. Otherwise, I’ll want to kiss away the pain. After some moments, Heath carefully takes my hand, weaving our fingers together, pulling it in his lap. I let him. “I want you to know that, on that morning we made love and you left, I ended it with Olivia.” My body tenses, and at first, I say nothing. This subject doesn’t need resolution. I don’t care. She could still be dating him for all that it matters. His omitting that he even had a girlfriend was what hurt. “That’s all very sad. It’s really a pity that it all happened in vain. I bet she’s a

nice girl and must have been heartbroken.” I feel his stare and my sanity slipping. I don’t want to talk about this; it’ll only make me mad. “You’re missing the point.” My voice turns shaky as I shoot him a direct look and pull my hand away. “I’m done talking about this; it’s going nowhere. A lot of work needs to be done tomorrow because I’m leaving the next day, and I’m exhausted from today. I’m going to bed.” I roughly place my mug on the table and throw the blanket off my lap. This subject is never going to die. Once I’m alone in my room, there’s only one person’s voice I need to hear to be reassured that I’m making the right

choice. The first time I call it goes to voicemail. The second, the same thing. I was going to call him endlessly all night, but by the third time he picks up. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Chapter 23 Lo What a cold bitch I was last night. Heath didn’t deserve that, but my heart is tied to Talon right now, and I can’t discount that.

Talon sounded so excited to hear from me, and I enjoyed telling him everything I was working on, but it took great effort to not slip up and say Heath’s name. Talon still believes I’m staying at the house, and there’s no

reason to correct that assumption. After a shower, I dress in a sagecolored Henley and jeans and throw my hair in a ponytail, ready to work. I reluctantly step into the hallway, briefly glancing at Heath’s closed door. I’m not ready to face him. Step by step, down the stairs I scan the living room—no Heath. Halfway down I peer out the windows of the French doors—no Heath. And finally when I reach the bottom, Heath is not in the kitchen either. The coffee is brewed and hot, so I pour a cup and sip on it quietly in the living room. My watch reads 7:20 a.m. Is he still asleep? I watch the top landing of the stairs, waiting for him to come down, but after twenty-five minutes and

nothing, I debate whether to leave him here. Just then the front door opens. Heath and a gust of cool air rush in. His eyes are tired and his clothes dirty with spots of paint. “Did you go somewhere?” I ask. “Yeah, I was down at the house, getting a head start on the day.” He thumbs behind him. To be honest, I don’t know what to think. But I do owe him an apology. Making my way around the couch, I stop right in front of him, timidly looking up into his eyes. “I’m sorry.” No response. The only telling sign is a tick of his brow. Then a second later he shrugs a shoulder. “I can’t force you

to choose me.” Then he turns and walks towards the door, stopping and looking back. “You coming?” My heart protests in my chest, and I tactfully follow, buckling myself in his older beat-up Toyota Tundra. “Did you eat breakfast?” he asks as we drive. “No.” His eyes go back to the road. “I figured today we could paint.” What am I to say to that? It’s fine with me. So I stare out the window, watching the passing homes, determined to stop thinking about how cold our relationship grew overnight. Heath gets out first, stepping up onto the front porch, looking back at me, his expression masked and blank. The same

playfulness and happiness no longer tint his skin; then before my eyes, his expression changes slowly, sliding into a weak smile. Huh. The floors are draped in drop cloths, and the crown molding is taped off in green tape. “I picked up some doughnuts if you’re hungry.” He points to the counter with the white box on it. “Thanks.” I watch him pull out his phone and turn on some music. So much for us talking. Then again what do we have to talk about? He seems to have heard me loud and clear last night. We work together, yet totally separate. Heath rolls the walls and I paint around the baseboards. Things start to loosen up when several globs of paint

drip into my hair from his roller above. When I feel it and look up, another blob hits me square in the eye. “Ah, watch it, buddy, with the paint.” I only smear it worse when I try wiping it out with my hand. My face must have been a mess because Heath bursts out with laughter, setting down his roller. “Stop . . . Stop making that face. You’re winking at me.” Heath laughs, oblivious to how happy it makes me when I hear it. What face? My eye is burning. He’s laughing so hard he has to wipe his eyes on his forearms. “What a southern gentleman you are letting me go blind.” One-eyed, I search for a towel, but quickly Heath appears

with one and sits down on the floor with me. “Stop, let me clean you up. Stop moving.” He pushes my hands away and carefully wipes the cool rag over my eyelid in a way that won’t push more paint in. Openly, I watch his happiness. I’m enjoying the color of his eyes, enjoying the shape of his face, enjoying him taking care of me. My tongue draws across my lips, wanting to feel the heat from his. To touch him. Concentrating, his mouth rests slightly apart, and I can barely make out the tip of his red tongue. Everything about him makes me need to kiss him. When he finishes, he notices me staring, and I know this is the pull he

talked about last night. It’s an impossible feat to try to turn these old feelings away when the same desire stares back at me. My heart beats a little faster when his eyes shift to my lips. Yes, kiss me. My stomach summersaults when he draws his mouth closer. Go on, one kiss. Just barely his lips briefly press against mine, my body leans into his, and my lips part, giving him my world. Firmly he cups my shoulders and holds me at bay. “That’s all you get.” All I get? What? My insides feel like a live wire sparking wildly. I track his movements when he leaves me on the floor and walks to the kitchen, throwing the rag in the sink. “What the hell kind of a kiss was

that?” I get up and march my ass over to him. He watches me, leaning with his back against the counter. “You want me one minute; you don’t want me the next. Make up your mind!” “Maybe I don’t know!” I push, getting in his face. Suddenly our positions are reversed, and he has me up against the counter, firmly holding me. Eye to eye. “You don’t see me stringing you along, do you?” We hold gazes. “It’s not even a thought for me.” His voice is so quiet saying the last part. That only makes me sad. He always chooses me. Even when I moved on and hated him, he still chose me. He fights

and I don’t. His words clash in my head, bleed out in my heart. How many times will he dodge my bullets before I hit something vital with one and he leaves? I don’t want him to ever go away. We’re much stronger together. I lean up on my tippy toes, pressing my body into his, and slip a simple kiss over his mouth, throwing out all kinds of mixed signals. He stops me from pulling away this time, holding my face still, preventing our mouths from barely touching. “You’re so damn confusing. You know how much I want you. Don’t do this.” My heart suddenly feels like lead. It’s hard because, from day one, Heath and I have struggled to be together, every

moment temporary. I hate it. I can see him dying. Our eyes meet, and I hold my breath, hoping after all my pushing him away he’ll still choose me. He moves cautiously as one of his hands lightly grazes up the side of my body and over my breast, taking a handful. I moan and shamelessly push into his touch, grinding into his thickening manhood. Logically, I should stop, but I can’t seem to curb the desire to be around him. “Pull me out,” he orders, low and husky. Goose bumps follow his sweet kisses up my neck, and my hand dips down and unbuttons his jeans. Fingers trace the length of his erection before pulling him out. There it stands, bold and

swollen to its full length. I take him in my palm and firmly rub up and down, circling my hand around the head. “Oh”—he inhales sharply through his teeth—“that’s it.” His hands run up over my ass and come around, sliding between us. With a flick of the button and a pull of my zipper, my pants are down around my ankles. Heath steps on them and lifts me onto the counter. He kisses me as I expected to be kissed, before, on the floor. Temporarily, he removes his lips and pulls my shirt over my head. I lift my arms willingly, watching him toss my shirt over his shoulder. Pulling back, he peruses my chest, exhaling slowly, watching the swells rise and fall. “These are

magnificent,” he says, lightly running the tips of his fingers over the tops and circling down the sides to cup my breasts, testing their weight in his hands. His right hand slips under the material of my bra and kneads the flesh, plucking at the nipple, and his other dips into my panties. At first touch, I go breathless. Small circles, so soft they have me squirming, circle my hips in the motion of his caress. “Right there,” I breathe, tilting my head back with my eyes closed, envisioning what his fingers are doing. Heath moves in, burying his face in my neck, teasing the delicate flesh, while I hear his hammering breath in my ear. The tension in my groin is growing

unbearable. “Hey, stay with me,” he gently commands, pushing my head upright. His thumb is perched at the edge of my mouth, and my tongue sneaks out and catches it, drawing it past my wet lips. I suck. I suck it like I would his cock. Such want passes over his features, his eyes half open. Half his attention is on my mouth and the other half rubs passionate friction between my folds. Then he pushes a finger up inside me. I’m losing focus, hanging on the edge by a thread, and then . . . my mouth opens in a big O. He watches my face, completely taking me in. “God . . . I’m keeping you. You’re so beautiful.” He leans in and kisses the corner of my open mouth,

holding my shaking body as I come. My heart is a wild mess, slowly picking a beat it can handle. When I look up at him, he smiles, and suddenly, I feel really embarrassed. So I look down. His penis is still erect, the tip wet with precum. It’s only fair he gets his release too; I want to give him that. Please him with my hand. I circle my hand around his shaft, my thumb and middle finger parted with a gap, and stroke over the tight flesh, downward. Before I can drag my fist back up, his hand comes down over mine, making my gaze shoot up. Did I do something wrong? “Oh, love, we don’t have to do this now. Trust me when I promise there will

be plenty of other times you can make it up to me.” He confidently smiles and winks. I peek at his dick and back up to him, unsure. “It’ll go down, eventually.” That has us both laughing. He helps me down off the counter, kissing the top of my head, before we return to work. More boundaries have been crossed. Lines are quickly being blurred. The living room is completed, which took most the evening, and I’m back in the kitchen, cleaning out the brushes in the sink when I remember something. Looking out the window out back, I call, “Heath?” “Yeah?” “Is the garage out back open?”

“Yeah, why?” Tossing the rag down from drying my hands, I head out that way, making it out the back door before being caught around the bicep. “Where do you think you’re going?” I point out back at the same time as he shakes his head no. “That garage is a mess; it could be dangerous. I haven’t had a chance to clean in there yet.” “So?” That baffles him for a second. “Fine, but you’re not going alone.” That sentence coming from Talon would have had me feeling like a bird trapped in a cage, but with Heath, my heart warms, wanting his protection. And to be completely honest, I’m a bit afraid of

what might be in there. Smirking, I shrug my left shoulder and spin from his gentle grip. The garage is a walk from the house, but when we get to it, the door is beaten and blackened. Someone has bent and pried the door open, leaving it barely hanging on its hinges. Slowly, I push the door open with a creak and peer into the darkness. This room looks nothing like I remember. So much black soot is dusted over everything that I can’t tell what’s from the police investigation and what’s ash. “This is too much,” I say, shaking my head. This is the first time I feel defeat over this situation. When I left, I took everything of importance with me,

but this room . . . This room holds tons of memories. “I’m never going to get all this done in four days.” Heath circles me in his arms, pressing his cheek to my hair, holding me in a perfect hug that feels so good. I can’t resist sliding my arms through his and cupping his shoulder blades. He’s too big and too tall for me to reach his shoulders, but I could hide in these arms. I press my cheek to his chest. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

We’re showered, fed, and watching the sun fade out into a dark sky before us, sprawled out on the L-shaped couch overlooking the pool.

Correction, I’m watching the sky go to sleep. He’s watching me. My head is in his lap, sideways, and he’s weaving his fingers through my hair. “Does he touch you, love?”

Intentionally, I stretch out the uncomfortable silence, stalling my response. The thought alone hurts him, I know, and the answer will downright kill him. It’s wrong for me to lead two lives; the secret’s nearly killing me. Back in the old days, I would have been stoned for what I’m doing: having relations with more than one man. A harlot. A woman with loose morals. A disgrace. I need to choose one of them and end it with the other. He never receives an answer and thankfully lets it go. When a simple touch caresses my forehead, I twist and

tip my head upward to look at him. His lids blink over soft affectionate eyes as the pad of his finger traces down the peak of my nose and circles around my eye sockets. My eyes close when he brushes over my lashes. That finger studies all the lines and angles over and over on my face, paying special attention to my delicate lips. It tickles, so I smile, and his face mirrors the same thing. “Tell me you’ll come back. Promise me.” I just stare at him for a minute then sit up and move into his lap, hugging him as if I might lose him. His grip is much tighter as he nestles his face into my neck. When I close my eyes, it feels like nothing has changed at all. Our feelings

are just as strong as they were a year ago, our pull for each other only stronger. We know that when we leave that couch and go to bed, those are our last starving moments. Tomorrow I’ll return to another life, another man, and he’ll be busy flying all over. So we stay on that couch as long as we can. When it gets too late, we both retire to his bedroom. All night we kiss, kiss, and make love till the sun rises again.

Chapter 24 Talon As soon as I get the text that she’s landed, I breathe a sigh of relief. Four days is too long to be without her. If she ever has to go anywhere again, I’ll go with her. No excuse to what I’m doing. That blond hair is the first thing I spot until the sea of busy travelers parts and her whole body appears. The cross bag she loves bounces on her hip, and a bead-filled neck pillow is draped over her arms. Person to person her eyes bounce off faces, and when she

finds me, my heart dances a jolly jig in my chest. It only moves for her anyway.

My feet stumble a couple of steps back when she runs into my arms, burying her face in my neck and wrapping her legs tightly around my waist. “Fuck, baby, I’ve missed you!” I carry her over to a corner where we’ll have more privacy and pull her head back so I can really appreciate her. God, she’s beautiful. My lips crash over her kissable lips over and over, and then I let out a long breath, knowing she’s safe. I can’t keep her safe if she isn’t with me, and I vow it to be my job. Time to get her home. We hold hands the whole way. I pull her out of the airport and to my truck;

we’re giddy in love like we’re a set of high schoolers with no worries. On the way home, she tells me everything she got done, and my parade gets pissed on when she mentions she needs to go back, just as we’re walking through the front door to my place. “When?” I snarl, stopping and grabbing her elbow. She stutters a bit, telling me she doesn’t know. “Fine, we’ll discuss this later.” She attempts to walk away, thinking I’m done. My hold tightens and I get down right next to her ear so my words will give her a chill. “But right now, all I want is to fill your tight-ass pussy up with my dick. Your body is mine tonight.” See, there’s that chill I promised. “I will take any hole I want.”

“Holy shit.” She gasps. Caveman style I scoop her up and throw her over my shoulder, walking over to the stairs that lead to the second floor. I lay her out flat on her back on the fifth step—her legs descending on steps four, three, and two—flip up her dress, and rip down her panties, leaving them to dangle around her ankles. “As long as you’re staying with me here, you will wear no panties, understand?” All I get is a spicy moan. I kneel on step three. The level change is perfect for fucking, allowing my dick to strike at an upward angle. “Four fucking days felt like seven years to not be inside of you. By the time I’m fully satisfied, we’re both going to be rubbed raw.” She stares up at me,

practically panting. I bend her knees and raise them so one foot is in between the balusters and the other foot is propped on the wall, her hands gripping the lip of the step above her head. She’s about to get a pounding and she knows it. Parting my jeans, I pull out my dick. Four damn days and no release, that’s a lot of builtup testosterone. “Do you want my dick like this?” I breathe out, tapping the head of it over her pink clit. “Oooohhhhh.” She squirms, then vigorously nods, saying hell yeah in a broken whisper. “Good, because this isn’t going to be gentle—” “Just do it already!” As you wish . . . Her head bows back when I shove it

deep inside of her, and my eyes close with the ungodly sensation of her muscles pulling me in tight. The feel of her is one of a kind. I support her legs and thrust into her harder, over and over, pushing all my power through my pelvis. Her pussy responds so well, soaking my dick and balls. Her pussy is throbbing. That’s what makes this position so magical. It gives me the ability to fuck like Hercules. Repeatedly she screams “Don’t stop,” and you know what? I’m happy to oblige. I slip a hand under my sac and in the juices my dick is playing in, and I wet my pinkie finger. Watching her face, I inch down and play with the pucker of her ass, taking that finger and gliding it

between the firm muscles. Well, that does it. Not three seconds later her eyes lock on me and her body jolts from her intense release. The sight alone makes my balls pull up and my semen overflow deep within her. Slowly dragging out of her, I bend down and kiss her. “I think I found your magic button,” I say in her ear. We both laugh and smile because it’s true.

It’s three in the morning and something wakes me. A small glow catches my eye. Lo is turning off her phone at the same time as I roll over to face her. “Who you talking to?”

“Hmm? Oh, um, Maggie.”

Maggie? At three a.m.? Lo shimmies into me, snuggling her face into my chest, and sighs. We feel so amazing together that, for that moment, I don’t care who she was talking to.

Lo “Class dismissed!” The commotional roar bounces off the high ceilings as students filter out. I’m pulling my bag over my shoulder, heading out the door, when Michelle and her boyfriend catch up to me from behind.

“Lo.” I give her a friendly smile. This is the second class I have with Michelle. I

like her. She’s soft-spoken and not catty. “Hi, Michelle, how do you think you did on that quiz?” She lets out a groan like she’s in pain. “Terrible! If this was only a quiz, can you imagine what Ms. Sumner’s tests will be like? I’m doomed!” “Yeah, I can sympathize.” “That’s why we wanted to talk to you, Lo.” Her boyfriend, whom I didn’t know yet, said, “We’re putting together a study group to prepare for the first test next week, and we were hoping you’d come.” “Definitely.” We pencil in a day to get together, and I go outside to Maggie and her Jeep. “Hey, bitch.” She sings when I shut

her door. My gaze flips to her from her words. “Wow, do you call everyone that?” She shakes her head. “No. OUT OF THE WAY, FUCKERS!” she screams out her window at a group of stoners loitering halfway in the road with their skate boards. “I’d hate to hear what you call your enemies.” It’s the way she smiles that makes her look evil. “Friends.”

Talon meets us at my place. He brings over a pizza, and the three of us are watching a movie. It’s half through when his phone rings. He checks the screen and points to the hall so he

can hear whoever it is on the other end over the bomb scene that is playing out. From the corner of my eye, I watch him pace the hall with his head down, when my phone vibrates against my leg. Heath: Come to me. I’ll be here through the weekend.

The picture he sends is a skyscraper skyline. Clicking open the paperclip attachment, I see an airline ticket pop up. To: New York City Departure: Undetermined Return: Undetermined

A kick storm of remorse swirls up in me as I glance over my shoulder at Talon, who is still pacing. My stomach

churns with guilt, and I wipe my hands on my clothes before I text back. There’s no way I can go. I’m trying quickly to type back a reply when Talon emerges from the hallway, off his phone. Carefully, my hand slides to my side, cupping my phone and tucking it between the cushions of the couch. “What’d I miss?” he whispers, sitting back down, pulling my bent legs into him. “Nothing much.” He seems okay with that. We both fall silent. Talon zones in on the movie, trying to catch up, and all I can think about is the elephant between the cushions next to me. My heart splinters with hurt, pondering how I

could have both men and not hurt either one of them. When I’m in Florida, I want Talon, and when I’m in Texas, I need Heath. Once the movie finishes, I walk Talon to the front door. “There’s something I need to talk to you about,” Talon says. I give a nervous nod and wait. “I’ve got to leave town for a couple days.” He sighs. “I don’t want to do this, but Stone needs help transporting a custom-order piece back from Georgia. It’s too delicate to ship, and the customer is padding our pockets for us to go pick it up.” Talon links our hands in front of us, lowering his face to mine. “Wait for me?” I giggle. What is that? Relief? My

lips don’t move, but I mentally smile. It feels strange to secretly seek out moments to be away from Talon and cowardly do it behind his back. He takes a step closer, drawing my hands up to his chest, and whispers a kiss on one cheek. He shifts and whispers another on my other. I refocus and giggle again, trying to push him away. “You’re not going to war. You’ll be back.” “I know. I’ll just miss you.” “Oh stop, silly boy. Go. Get your job done. Nothing is going on here anyway, and I’ll be waiting with open arms when you get back.” “You know you’re the best, babe.” My eyes do a silly roll, and he swoops

in with a kiss. An hour later Heath’s text gets a reply. Lo: Be ready for me.

I skip class on Friday. I’ll most definitely pay for that, but for now, I’m going to enjoy myself.

I haven’t seen Heath yet since I’ve landed, but everything has been arranged to perfection. After departing the first class cabin, I’m greeted in baggage claim by a driver holding a sign with my name on it. He then delivers me by limo to The Ritz Carlton Hotel. I check in, and a bellboy escorts me to my room, asking me if I need anything

before he leaves. I give him a no thanks and a tip, and he’s on his way. The room is grand, way too big for just me. Casually, I move around the room, running my hand over the cold marble when I notice a letter on a table by an elaborate vase of flowers. My sweet love, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you arrived. I hope your journey here has been stress-free thus far, and I’ve booked you down at the spa to be taken care of. You will be my arm candy tonight, so I want you feeling your best. Can’t wait to see you, have you, and show you my world. Heath

I’m floating on air right now, holding the letter tightly to my chest, smiling. My

body floats into the master bedroom where I spin and fall backwards with my arms open wide onto the bed with a bounce. “Ah”—I sigh—“a girl could get used to this.” Just then a knock sounds from the front door. Clearly, I’m not expecting anyone, which makes me think it’s Heath. I sit up and slide off the bed, quick to answer the door. Twisting the handle and swinging the door open, I see a . . . man(?) standing there. “Hello, can I help you?” I ask. “Giiirl, close your mouth. You ain’t looking at Lady Gaga. My name is Vivo, and I get to have the pleasure of being your personal assistant this afternoon.” His manners are flamboyant. His hair

is shaved on both sides of his scalp, and the long patch that’s left is dyed in a rainbow of colors and combed over stylishly. “Oh no, I didn’t mean to offend—” “Puleese, that’s not even possible.” He grabs my hand and pulls me. “We must be going. There’s a lot to be done, and with a little skill and magic glitter maybe, just maybe, we’ll have you done in time for the event.”

Every inch of me has been made perfect from the bottom to the top. When I pass the mirrored door on the inside of the elevators, I can barely believe it’s me. Vivo dressed me in the most magical dress. Space is what it looks like,

softly swirling shades of gray and stardust dripping down me. Any way I move, I twinkle like a celestial sky. It elongates my physique, making me appear tall, which I’m not, and it hugs my curves with perfection. My blond curls tumble down my back with only bits of my bangs pinned back. I’m ready. Vivo stands back and gasps. “Girl, you are living in that dress right now! My work here is done.” He leans in and does this side-kiss thing on each cheek. “Please thank that handsome man of yours for giving me the pleasure of taking care of you. I’m a jealous bitch right now ’cause you are one lucky woman.” I thank him as he waves a hand and booty-walks his way out.

I amble over to the body mirror in the master suite and take one more, long look at myself. This must be what Cinderella felt like. I feel more than beautiful. My hands coast down the

expensive bodice, over the thousands of tiny crystals, when something catches my attention, and I’m caught in Heath’s strong gaze. I watch closely as his reflection gradually steps flush to my back. My insides start to warm when his left hand slowly and lightly strokes up the bare flesh of my left arm while kissing and nuzzling my right side under my ear. “Do you want to know why I chose this dress?” I can’t stop staring at our reflection, where he’s touching me. It’s when he takes his hands off me completely that our eyes meet in the mirror. “Do you?” Do I what? I open my mouth to speak

when both his hands frame my small hips and his nose traces down my neck and up around my jaw, making me shiver. The heat from his body and the warmth of his breath do nothing to distract me from the stone erection that’s pressing into the dimples of my back. “Well, since the pussy cat has your tongue, I’m just going to tell you anyway.” His voice is deep with passion. “This dress . . . I knew this dress was for you the second I saw it. It reminds me of the stars . . . and lakes. The stars we lay under the night I couldn’t keep my hands off you.” I have to close my eyes and relive how alive and free Heath makes me. He doesn’t try to control me but gives me freedom. “I knew from the beginning I

loved you,” he says. “I love how you had no idea that you were originally paired up with my buddy in our Anatomy class but I begged him to switch so you’d be my partner.” My eyes pop open and I gasp. “I love how tight you held my hand when we jumped into the lake because you were scared. But what I love most is just us. What we are. It’s intoxicating, like the rush of a rollercoaster. That’s how you make me feel inside.” Swallowing hard, we stare at each other for long hard minutes until I turn around and hug him hard. Slowly, his face drifts towards mine, and ever so softly he kisses the tip of my nose. “You are striking; I don’t want to mess with Vivo’s creation. Plus, we better get

going; we’re late as it is.”

The driver stops the limo in front of a red carpet running up to the front doors of a grand art studio. Photographers, roped off along the carpet, eagerly wait for the moment our feet touch red. The whole thing makes me nervous. “It’s okay.” Heath smiles and a dimple appears on one cheek. Heath’s hand lovingly encases mine, and he leads me out the door the chauffeur is holding open for us.

Heath’s last name is called in all directions. “Mavrick.” Everyone observes his every move. Flash after flash, Heath subtly poses, slowly moving in the direction of the main entrance. I can’t help but feel

awkward and in the way. I try sidestepping away, but Heath smoothly catches a hand around my waist and pulls me seamlessly to his side. “Smile,” he says through a debonair grin, and the flashes go wild. Bit by bit we advance through the front doors where Heath leads me about with a gentle hand on the small of my back. The place is buzzing with media and admirers waiting to talk with him. A humming excitement flows in my blood as I sip on champagne and make small talk. Fondly, I watch Heath in his fitted tux, his hair styled back, socializing with such gratitude. My chest aches to see how he’s changed, developed into a better man. A small group overtakes Heath, giving me a

moment to browse. He’s so occupied he won’t even know I’m gone. His truly captivating work is on display in every room. Some pieces on a smaller scale hang on the wall, and then there are his large slabs. I notice more and more of his pieces mirror me, which secretly I love. They don’t show my face directly, but I know. Eventually, I lose track of time, roaming the building, when I feel someone gently touch my elbow and softly kiss the side of my head. The scent of cinnamon floats by, and the tension in my belly eases. “Enjoying yourself?” “Hmm, why yes. I’m quite impressed with this Mavrick guy’s work. If only I could get some alone time to get to know

him better.” A rumbling chuckle vibrates his chest. “I’m sure he’d be eager to give you an up close look at his head . . . I mean into his head.” Oh his smile is too much. With that, we are out of there.

Chapter 25 Talon Lo warned me that her school load is difficult this semester and she’ll really need to focus. Fine. We’re a little over a month in, and Lo is out with classmates prepping for their second exam. Me . . . I’m hanging down at Lady Parts, five minutes from the Starbucks Lo is studying at, getting pumped with the all the talk over the convention several of us are flying out to in Las Vegas.

“Your girl going with ya?” Auto

asks. Auto is one of three mechanics here. For years, he’s dreamed of going to one of these conventions, but two years ago his wife got pregnant, and I guess the baby has all kinds of health problems. So he basically works and does side jobs to pay medical bills and keep food on the table, nothing else. Poor guy, but he’s the best. I wouldn’t want a shitty surgeon digging around in my heart, replacing valves, reconnecting hoses. Well, that’s how we think of Auto; he’s the guy I want working on my car’s heart. “No,” I say, launching an old oil filter into the garbage barrel. I don’t want to talk about how mad that makes me. “She has to go back out to Texas.

She’s scheduled to meet up with some contractors, something about letting them in the house. I’ll be fucking glad when that damn house is done already.” “Man . . . and it’s the same weekend as the convention?” I nod. “Well, you know what they say. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” Auto’s body scoots out from under the car and he grins big. I frown. That expression is so overused, plus, it makes me sick to think what that means. Why would I stray from her when I worked so hard to catch her? “Ya know I have these great little pills on my work bench over there. They’ll help you with some of that stress

I see you got.” I look off that way. Sure enough a prescription bottle is sitting on top. “They’re not prescription, but the buddy I get them from is legit and knows what he’s doing. Makes dealing with life a whole lot easier. Trust me!” I’m reluctant at first but then say fuck it. Why not? What’s the harm? I take two white tablets and chew them up like candy. “Let me know if you want more. Pass me that wrench, will ya?” Just as I open the door to Starbuck’s, I’m assaulted in the face with vaporized caffeine. Lo is saying good-bye to the group, two guys and three girls. She walks straight into my arms, and I make

a point to pull her in tightly, taking her full lips, shooting the two guys in the group a make-a-play-for-her-and-yournut-sacks-are-mine look. “Wow . . . did you miss me? I was only gone for an hour and a half.” She giggles. I lead her outside into the sunshine, giving her ass a swat. “Don’t start. I’m still pissed you’re not going to Vegas with me.” I hear her little huff. She knows how I feel; we’ve argued about this enough. “Talon, you have to understand that I’m very limited on time and—” I shut the car door on her, cutting her off. We can’t continue to fight over this. It only leads to her forcing me to take her

home and me spending the evening next to a silent phone. But I can’t stop the feeling that every time we’re apart she comes back a little more distracted. I get in on my side and begin to drive. Her pouty-face silence is driving me crazy, and then halfway to my place, she orders me to take her home. “I’m a big girl, you know. You’re not my father and you’re not my husband.” Damn, her bullets hurt! She’s mad. She has her arms crossed over her chest and is peering out the front window. I drive a little more and pull up to the front of her place. She jumps out, and I jump out after her, grabbing her by the shoulder so I can turn her around. “Stop, don’t touch me!” She spins,

breaking my hold. “Lo . . .” “No! My father did that controlling shit, and I’m not doing it again, and until you drop the military commander act, don’t call me!” I snap. I grab her upper arm way too hard and haul her ass into me. She makes a small cry of pain, her eyes going wide and enraged as she successfully shakes from my grip. Shit, look what I’ve done. I’m such an asshole. Her arm is flaming red; soon a nasty bruise will take its place. I’ve gone too far. “I can’t do this again.” Her face is sad. “Tell me about your family.” What? Where did that come from? My stomach revolts at what she’s asking.

This shouldn’t be difficult to divulge, but every word I think about telling her stops before it can escape. She watches me with desperation, waiting for anything. Seconds tick by, and she begins to realize that, when it comes to that subject, I’ll always harden and give her nothing. She’s just now getting this because her shoulders sag. “It’s never going to change, is it?” People are stepping around us in the middle of the walkway, throwing daggers at me. They don’t need to say it because I can feel their thoughts when they pass by. I know she’ll support me, and I’m so angry with myself for not being man enough to be a man, holding

this decay inside me. Still I shake my head no, making her frown. She takes a few steps away, as if she’s leaving, but turns back to me. “It’s just . . .” She shakes her head, looking away. “I tell you everything about me. You know every detail about my life, and you still have the nerve to pretend that that side of your life doesn’t exist.” She steps right up to me and holds a hand over my stone-cold heart. “I love you, but I have no idea who it is that I love inside here.” She waits, searching my eyes. My arms cross over my chest, and she pleads, holding my stare. “Stop me from walking away, through those doors. Say something, a shred of anything. Stop me.” My expression never

changes from stone. Her eyes flutter with disbelief and a shine of tears. “Say something!” When I remain quiet, her expression basically says I just hung myself with the noose that was lying loosely around my neck. Her pleading eyes break away, and I ignore the reality that I just might have lost her. With that, she turns and enters her building, leaving me on the sidewalk. I rub my chest over my burning heart, hanging my head in shame.

Lo His silence hung him. I know I should break things off, but that means I’m giving up on him

getting better. Maybe I’m not the right person for the job.

For a whole week, I dodge every form of contact from Talon. His attempts greatly intensify a few days before he leaves for Vegas. It’s two a.m. and I can’t sleep. It’s quiet and dark except for a pair of headlights that slowly pass my window. Could he open up? Could he not try to control my every thought? I don’t think I’m asking for too much here. Headlights shine through again but come from the opposite direction. They slow and curiosity has me barely drawing back the edge of the curtain to see a blue Ford at the curb. The tint keeps him unseen. I give up and dial his number. “What?” He’s all snark. My thumb

hovers over the end button, but something inside me wants to know what has him creeping outside my door at two in the morning. I try numerous times to help him, to give him an open board to discuss his problems with someone who won’t judge. Someone who understands hurt and now has been freed. He could have that too! “What are you up to?” Hearing nothing but a heavy pause, I think he’s hung up for a second. “Hanging out with Jim and Jack.” Jim and Jack don’t make him sound like that. I’m sure something else is polluting his bloodstream. “Talon, you don’t have to go through this alone—”

“Fuck you! You don’t hold my regrets; you didn’t see the sick shit I saw every day that I couldn’t stop.” I’m shocked silent. I have to move away from the curtains. “Yeah, just like everyone else, walk away.” I sit down on my bed and try to think out a proper reaction. Nothing I say will get through to him in this condition. He’ll only hear the negatives, but he speaks before I can, his tone completely on the opposite side of the quarter. “I need you so damn bad, every part of you, to survive. Don’t ever leave me. Promise me we’ll stay together forever.” What? “I swear to God if you leave me I

won’t know how to handle things.” I do my best to remain tender and loving, instead of being freaked out as I am. The drugs are talking, taking control. I have to remember that. Perhaps if I can get him to come in and sober up . . . Maybe if he falls asleep in my arms, he’ll be better. “Talon, come inside.” “No.” “Talon, please, make the right choice.” “NO! I don’t want your useless pathetic pity.” A heavy squeal of rubber resonates at the same time the line goes dead, and I know he’s gone. For all I know, he could have died that night, a complete hazard to himself. The next day one steadfast plane

soars in the direction of Vegas while the other touches down in Texas.

Lo: Just around the corner

This time I’ve rented a car. Heath has to leave town towards the tail end of my stay, and I’ll need transportation. He’s standing out front, waiting. I can barely make it out of the car before he swoops in, pulling me out and holding me high in his arms. “Mm, kiss your man.” My ankles clip around his back as he happily spins us around, kissing me dizzy, mixing our velvety smooth lips with the sexy stubble across his jaw.

Gently setting me down, he runs his hands over my shoulders to my biceps, and I wince, the large bruise still angry in a rainbow of blues and purples. Heath takes a hand and lightly pulls the sleeve of my shirt back. It’s then that our reunion takes a nose dive. “Please have a good reason for this.” His fingers trace the outline. “Did that fuck ass do this to you?” His hands are shaking with his temper. I try brushing my sleeve back in place, but he blocks me. “I’m fine. He knows he did wrong; now let’s get inside. There so much to do.” I’m a fool to think that’s the end of it. He follows me into my parents’ home too easily. “Strip!” Forcefully, he barks when

we reach the space between the kitchen and living room. “What? No.” I blink with pinched brows, taking a step back. “I’m going to check every part of you since you think this is a joke. Strip!” “No, can we drop this? I’m not damaged; I’ve given myself worse bruises bumping into tables, so cut it out.” “Son of a bitch, Lo, you’re nuts if you think you’re going back to him! He better hope I never meet him in a dark alley much less in sunlight. I consider myself to be a pretty reasonable man, but when it comes to you, this boils my blood. Strip!” He’s all kinds of agitated. Stiff in

form, his arms cross over his chest with his legs parted in a stance. It’s almost like he’s watching TV, pissed off, and waiting to get more pissed off. There’s no getting around this. He wants to be difficult; well, I can make this difficult. I start with my pants, every move seductively thought out. I loosen the drawstring on my shorts and steadily slip them down my legs, flicking them with a toe across the wood, between his legs. Those liquid eyes don’t even twitch, staying unsatisfyingly locked on me. Very slowly, I peel my shirt off, stretching my torso with a sexy curve. I make sure my hair loosely sweeps around my face, making it look like I

didn’t do it on purpose. Lowering my arms, I let the cotton fall to the ground and lean into my other hand, like I need it softly fingering the hair out of my eyes. His broad shoulders stay square and he doesn’t move. Only the slightest flare of his nostrils is evident as he sets eyes on the bruise again. I take a minute to lick my lips and stare, feeling hot and needy for him. Our weeks apart did that to me. In only my bra and panties, I stand bare to him, itching to be touched, waiting on him to make the next move. Rubbing the scruff on his tight jaw, Heath tilts his head and gives me a quirk of an eyebrow to continue. Taking a steadying breath, I proceed, unclasping my bra, keeping my hands over the cups

so each one of the straps teasingly droops down my arms. Gradually, I pivot my back to him and peek over my shoulder, smiling, just to provoke him. Provoke him it does. His chest is rising and falling harder now. His hands are doing this pill-rolling movement like they itch to grab, but I want him manic. As I turn my head forward to remove my bra, Heath swiftly slides up behind me, immediately cupping my breasts. “Let me take these off your hands.” His voice is all gravelly now at my ear. The ridges of his defined chest push into my back and his height gives him the advantage to fold over me. “I think you forgot something.” Warms hands move to my hips, and a big finger runs around the

inner band of my panties. “These will need to come off.” Yes, take them. Rip them; burn them; just get them off now. Heath walks me forward until my palms are flat against the Corian island. “Don’t move these.” One of the side drawers opens, and next I feel thin cool metal blade along my hip. Before I know it, my panties are gone and his hands cuffed down over my wrists. His lips are all over me, his solid provoked cock working its way between my thighs. With his knees, he parts my legs, and that is all the room he needs. Flesh penetrates tight flesh, constricting with every move. Pleasure spreads through my entire body as my hips rock with his

uncontrollably. Moaning out, I can’t describe what he’s doing to me. I’m slipping from reality, letting sensations take over when— “FUUUUCK!!” He growls and it’s not from his release.

Chapter 20-sex Lo I toss my head up and glance out the curtainless windows that look out to the front of the house. Heath doesn’t slow down or even stop. He thrusts up into me harder, deeper as if doing so is somehow going to keep Talon from walking up those front steps and interrupting us. My legs begin to shake as I try to wiggle away, but he effectively keeps my wrists pinned and relentlessly continues to pound me from behind in carnal hot bursts. With all his

strength, Heath rams his cock in once more deep, holding our position firmly, taking his time to shoot his semen inside me.

For the next eleven seconds, his lips are pressed hard at my temple next to my eye. Eleven seconds is how long it takes for him to finish out his fuck. As soon as his dick stills, he releases my hands. They retract in shame and cover my face. “Choose right now! Him or me, it’s simple,” he harshly whispers in my hair. “You’re going to need these. Cover up.” A bundle of my clothes hits me in my calves and falls at my feet. Kill me! Dead is what I’m going to need to be after I watch these two rip each other to shreds. Shit, shit, shit, what have I done? Breathe . . . and think. Hide. Hide Heath. That’s my only

option. “Heath, you gotta hide—” I spin around, but the last few words die when I see he’s already disappeared. Knock, knock, knock. Three knocks make me want to cry. “Lo? Baby, you in there?” Oh God! Choose. A wave of guilt and anxiety forces me to move. Bra, shirt, shorts get smoothed out as if they never came off, minus the panties. No, no panties. Where are the panties? Damn. I look around, not finding them. Knock, knock, knock. Three more. For far too long, I stare at the door, willing him to leave, but minutes tick by, and the knocking gets harder, along with Talon trying to catch a glimpse of anything through the glass on the front

door. “Hello?” Choose. I shake out my hands and inhale a deep breath. When I finally open the door, acting like I’m surprised, my soul nearly cracks. How did things get so messy? We stare at each other for some tense seconds before Talon places a hand on the front door and pushes it open. “Can I come in?” His eyes look lost yet wild, scanning the room over my head quickly then softening when they land back on me. I step back out of the way when Talon walks in. He has an agenda, it’s clear, and he isn’t going to think about leaving until he tells me. This I know. He’s jumpy, twitchy; he’s still lit on something.

“Talon, are you okay? Are you on something?” Whether he realizes it or not, his left hand jumps up and rubs the center of his chest. “Yes, baby, but I’m fine. I took a little something to calm my nerves to get me through the plane ride.” Filling my space, Talon cautiously wraps his arms around my waist, making me slightly uncomfortable. “I didn’t go. For you, I didn’t go. I could never choose anything over you. You come first.” Choose. There was that word again. Another arm comes around my shoulders and tightens into a hug, my head pressed between his pecs. “Hug me, babe. Hug me.” Talon readjusts my hands tighter, trying to mold us together.

“There’s so much I’m sorry for.” He upturns my face, trying to focus on my eyes, but he can’t. Without warning, Talon aggressively smooshes our mouths together, sloppily showing me all he’s sorry for. I wither and shift to break away. “I’m learning to love. Don’t give up on me,” he cries through our lips. His tears wet my cheeks and the salt stings around my lips. He’s crying, which he’s never done. My distaste for him softens to sadness. Even though the end will happen, it can’t happen right now. I can’t break it off; he’ll barely remember a word I say. Over time the part of me that needs Talon slowly disintegrates; bouts of being with Heath make me forget long enough to realize what I need.

“Talon, stop,” I squeak out between breaths, but he keeps kissing me with a fever. In the back of my head, I keep envisioning Heath watching this. Any minute he’ll come from the living room and kill Talon. “Let me make love to you.” Pinching my nipples too hard, he uses his strength to lay me down right in the middle of the entryway, though I fight to stay upright. “No, no!” Just then heavy banging comes from the front door again and everything stops. “You expecting someone?” His brows are pinched, and as if a switch has been flipped, he’s suddenly angry. My breathing is strained as I glare up

from his arms. He rights us and flings open the front door to Heath. I nearly eat my stomach. This is it. “Can I help you?” Talon spits, giving Heath an icy glare. The long pause nearly kills me. Heath appears cool and cautious, briefly inventorying my appearance. I’m shocked to see that my shirt is dislodged and my pants undone. I hadn’t realized he’d gotten that far. “I’m here for Lo.” My heart is hammering in my chest. “Yeah . . . okay, I’m her boyfriend, what do you need?” With that, Heath eyes blaze and his chest tightens up. I need to do something. With the wrong thing said, this could quickly erupt in flames. Placing a hand on

Talon’s arm, I jump in. “This . . . this is my contractor who’s been helping refurbish the house.” My eyes plead with Heath not to out us; his are hollowed with hurt. Talon looks at Heath and then back at me. “Oh,” is all he says. Heath casually comes in and looks around, putting his body between Talon and me like a shield. My two lovers residing in the same room, how did it ever come to this? “Talon, would you mind going out to my car and bringing in my overnight bag while I show this gentleman what still needs to get done?” The air is tense, and I need to separate them, just as I’d been doing. Living two lives with two different men. It’s all so

wrong. “Sure,” Talon says, sidestepping Heath, lacing our fingers together and leaning in for a kiss: a hard one, one that shows ownership. A loud crash happens behind us, making Talon quickly pull away and look. “Sorry”—Heath irritatingly apologizes to the broken lamp —“bumped into it.” Fishing out the keys, I shove them in Talon’s hand and he slowly leaves. If looks could kill . . . “Were you just going to let him fuck you so easily on this floor?” He’s ice. “You don’t care, do you? You like having us both.” I shake my head and take a step. “Stop!” I did. “I’m so fucking disgusted. That’s

what I’m up against? A drug-addict stoner? God!” He rips his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what you see in me if that’s what you love.” He lets out a crazy chuckle. “Wait. I have a great idea. Why don’t we complete your fantasy and both of us fuck you silly on the beat-up box spring out back? Maybe do some blow? I bet that will help you choose.” I open my mouth to defend myself, but he cuts me off. “On second thought, I’m not too interested in this little arrangement any more. I’ve grown bored. I’ll spare you. Don’t choose, because you no longer have that choice.” Vigorously, I shake my head, the surge of tears swelling up. All his beauty hardens with hate. He hates me. I hate me too.

My, how the roles have reversed. I’m lost with his words. I’m lost when he embraces my pathetic body one last time, and I know I’ve lost everything when he barely tells me good-bye.

The silence is the very worst.

I’m sick, slowly dying inside. I haven’t heard from Heath in over a month. No texts or pictures, which used to be a daily occurrence. My head hurts; my body aches. I move through life in a daze. I’m still with Talon, yes, but gradually, we’re forgetting to put forth effort, although, his forgetfulness comes

in the form of pills. They are his love now. I should care, I should want to care, but why should I if he doesn’t? He still won’t tell me about his past, he pulls back, and I just can’t relate. At first, he tries hiding his addiction, those stupid white little pills. But then I randomly find them in his cup holder in his car or blatantly on his nightstand. It doesn’t take long for them to o-holy consume him. A new group of guys starts hanging down at Wrecker’s; most I don’t like, mainly because I know their common denominator. Maggie is out with Bain. It’s a little after 10:30 p.m. when the fifth text comes through my phone. Hey, where are you?

I treat them all the same: Sasha, Stone, and Trixie. Lo: Sick, staying put tonight.

I end it with an emoji face that has a thermometer hanging from its lips. A mixture of replies stream in, ranging from, Man, sucks to be you to Rest up, we’ll miss you.

But one, ever-persistent, always-inyour-face person sends seven texts spaced out over thirty minutes. Talon: I knew I should have picked you up myself.

I ignored that one. Talon: When are you gonna change

your mind and come? Lo: Never. Still achy with chills. Talon: Things are really heating up down here. I wish you’d come. Miss you. Lo: Lying peacefully in bed. I send sick kisses. Talon: Trixie said she’ll swing by and pick you up. Hitch a ride and bring my baby to me. Lo: (emoji sad face) cough, cough. Talon: Please, babe, you’re breaking my heart. I need you by my side. There’s some pretty stiff competition here tonight.

That’s a shitty play. He knows I’ll always be there for him, but I don’t even

know if I can stand on my own two feet. I’m so weak and can’t keep anything nutritious down. Talon: I can’t be without you. It will only be for a couple of hours. Amy is down here sick. You two could hang together, maybe swap meds. Lo: Ha-ha. Not funny. Why don’t you come home to me? Talon: Can’t. I’m sending Stone NOW so be ready. Luv ya.

I know it from the moment I sit in Stone’s passenger seat something isn’t right. That looming feeling only grows as the night goes on. Call it woman’s intuition, if you want. Something is going

to go down.

Chapter 27 Talon Way deep down I knew that wasn’t her contractor. No monogrammed polo shirt or callused hands. Come on! Was she fucking joking?

I might have been high, but I wasn’t blind to the obvious facts or should I say texts. That son of a bitch was romantic! The final slice that severed my main artery was when I happened upon a

picture from him, of them together. It made it all very real. Her face said it all. I realize now she wasn’t in love with me. We weren’t two people falling in love. No, we were two people teaching the other how to live again. I see that now. Slowly, she slipped through my hands, and the tighter I held, the less control I really had. That alone made me angry, feel out of control. In walk my magic pills. God knows what’s in them and fuck if I care. All I know is they do the trick. They fabricate some semblance of the intense love I once had. Her voice sings a little sweeter, her touch feels a little softer, and every syllable that dances over her

lips tells me she loves me over and over. And in the end, that’s the drug I crave. The pills dull me just enough to not care about the other stuff. Hurt. It isn’t the future I’m afraid to have with Lo; she could have been the best for me. It’s repeating the past and knowing I’m not the best for her. That scares the hell out of me. So she can have her man on the side as long as I have my part as well. Shamefully, I’ll take any scrap as tiny as it may be. I love her. The heats are over for the night, and we’re chilling by our cars, making plans. On the outside, I fidget but on the inside, I’m as calm as an ocean breeze since I took two more pills.

“Really? You demanded I come all the way over here for this?” She coughs, glaring down at me. So she can’t see my glazed eyes I quickly sweep her to my side and under my arm. “I missed you.” Hey, it’s the truth; she’s still pissed. Lo sits on the hood of my ’stang most of the night, wrapped in her sweatshirt. “Where are you going?” I ask, watching her slide off the hood. She points in the direction of Sasha and pays me no mind as I go back to talking with my boys. I don’t pay attention to many details nowadays, only the ones I care about, but somehow Lo has worked herself across the field. As long as I can keep an

eye on her . . . Damn, she’s fine—even when sick. Hey, I wonder if she’ll be up for rough sex tonight. Then… Sirens. Lights. Red and blue. Screaming. Yelling. Running. Cops! Cops rain down on us at all angles. Chaos is unleashed and one by one people are handcuffed. As fast as I can manage, I push people out of the way, weaving through the bodies, shouting, “Lo!!” But by the time I spot her, it’s too late. We lock sight just as the cuffs are being locked into place, her small arms pinned behind her back. The heavy weight of dread settles in my stomach when she locks eyes with me and shakes

her head in disappointment. No. “Take me! Take me instead!” I yell over and over, running to them, but abruptly a large arm tightly snakes around my neck in a choke hold. I fight, but the bulky arm fights better. That bulky arm doesn’t have drugs lacing his blood stream, weighing him down. “Don’t resist! Cease now!” I can’t let them take me. I have to get to Lo. Digging deep down, I use my last bit of strength. The next second my world blurs as the cop twists me in a manner that brings me into submission. “Stop fighting me!” Hutch? I’m looking into Hutch’s eyes. “Why haven’t you been answering

your phone? I called you a dozen times to warn you that this was coming.” Hutch lets me get my bearings. “They got Lo!” Just then my eyes spot that same burly officer escorting her to the cruiser. “Where?” I point in the vicinity. “Damn.” He curses. I know that’s not good. I take off running again, but Hutch stops me from getting far. “Let me go!” “No, he’ll arrest you too.” “I don’t care!” “You won’t get to be with her; it’s pointless. You’ll be more help to her out of jail. He’ll book her, and she’ll most likely be out in twenty-four hours.” Reality comes back to me real fast. It’s

too late to save her. All I can do is watch her tears fall through the back window until the squad car drives away. Our run is over. I can see it with every tear she sheds that she’s done with me. I’ve failed yet another person I love.

Lo Fingerprinted.

Photographed. And something shy of being strip-searched with a side of frisking. There are ten of us in here. This is the hardest bench I’ve ever sat on. They probably made them that

way so my stay is so miserable that I’ll plead guilty just to find mercy. With each breath, I grow more apprehensive. It’s over with Talon! I’m so pissed! I don’t care if he’s in the next cell over or in his stupid comfortable bed. I want to say so many mean things to him. I want to wrap my hands around that asshole’s neck, but instead, I just keep quiet and watch the feet as they pass by. He’s the reason I’m here—that bossy-ass shithead. Anger isn’t a common emotion for me, but he’s had a good hand in stringing it out lately. I won’t live in an unhealthy relationship where he tells me who I am. I’m closing that door. I don’t know this process, only that

you get one phone call. One phone call that has to count. Choose correctly. Choose. I’m gonna lose it if I hear that word again. “Knight!” The guard calls out and I spring to my feet. “You’re up.” Guard man guides me by my bicep to a row of pay phones. “One call and ten minutes is all you have.” I hold the greasy-looking phone close enough to my ear to hear but not touch it and carefully punch in each number so as not to mess up. Ring after ring my heart beats faster. “Please pick up,” I whisper. By the fourth ring, it goes to voicemail. “You’ve reached Heath. I’m not around; leave a message.” No, no, no, no, no goes through my

head as I’m put back in my holding cell with no answers. Eighteen more hours is enough time for my anger to cool and to reminisce on all my losses and gains. Before I was like a bird whose wings were clipped all those years. Suddenly those feathers grew back and I was thrust out of my cage. Fly or die. The wolf in Prince Charming’s clothing befriended me for one purpose. He never expected what grew between us. I don’t hate him. His kisses weren’t meaningless. His words weren’t untrue. In fact, I treasure every twist and turn he took me on. If it weren’t for him, I might never have found what I didn’t know I was truly looking for. Myself.

I had to lose everything, meet rock bottom. For so long I believed I needed someone: Maggie, a boyfriend, whoever, when in reality all I needed was myself. The cell is mostly cleared out when my name is called again. “Knight, you’re free!” My feet take me out of there so fast, to the front desk where Maggie is waiting. “Thank God.” I run into her arms. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you out earlier. I tried but they wouldn’t release you until your charges were cleared.” “What charges?” “Wreckless driving, disorderly conduct.” “What?” “Yeah, evidently you were arrested

by the super trooper of the force. Talon’s brother Hutch said this guy slaps as many charges on anyone he arrests. In his eyes, they’re all criminals. What a way to screw someone’s life up. Thanks to Hutch, he got them all dropped.”

With the top down, the wind blowing through my hair makes Talon’s necklace jump across my neck. The movement only makes me hyperaware of the person I do not want to be. “Will you stop by the post office?”

Maggie peers over at me for a moment, trying to read my thoughts, and continues driving. “Okay.” I buy a small envelope and scribble out a note on a random scrap of paper,

asking Talon not to call me anymore, to respect me and give me some time. Gently, I unclip the necklace, place it in the envelope, and lick the flap closed. I walk to the outgoing mail chute and drop the envelope down the black hole. Calls and texts filter in immediately once Talon discovers I’ve been released. He tries to come to see me, but Maggie stops him. I avoid him at all costs, still needing time to think about how to handle us. Our relationship has grown toxic. A couple of mornings after the necklace was mailed, all communication stops. Days turn into weeks, so when I find out Talon is no longer taking those pills,

I know it has to be done. As difficult as it is, I’ve made my mind up. I’m meeting up with him at a park; much needs to be said. I spot him from afar and watch him approach. He looks good—clean cut and healthy—the perfect man . . . for another woman. His eyes don’t hold the specter of an empty soul. “Mind if I sit?” he asks. I pat the bench next to me. What his eyes do hold are swirling thoughts of blame, except he isn’t all to blame. “I’m sorry.” He talks towards the ground, stretching out a pause. “We can do this. We can work it out.” “No!” I set my hand on his leg, making him halt. “There isn’t a single person to blame for this. It isn’t meant to

be. I love you, but I bring out something in you that makes you crazy, and that something only drives me crazy.” His face falls again, and he doesn’t move for several hard beats. “I’m not going to sit here and deny the strong feelings I have for you, but I’m seeing so many things clearly now. You belong to him. Towards the end, I could tell you were with me but never truly with me.” Call me guilty because I am for wanting another man when I already own one. I experience the tightness in my gut, the heart ache, and the feeling of being dirty. Selfishly, I think of only my happiness. I can’t even congratulate myself on finding love because in the end I lost it. “Talon, I never wanted to

hurt you. I’m sorry.” Talon rubs the center of his chest. “Fuck, it hurts. I’m not gonna lie.” He blows out a quick breath and looks up at me. “But you’ve helped me in more ways than I can express, and I cherish that. I respect you.” He’s doing his best to keep his emotions in check. “I know now that love can exist and I’m capable of it, so thank you.” His sweet words make me smile, bringing a tear to my eye. For all the rights and wrongs, we’ve both come out better people, not damaged. My soul lost its mate in the process. I need to forget what I want and take what I deserve. To be alone. I’m probably better off this way.

I didn’t respect Heath or his time. He tried to make every second count, tried waving the fog from my eyes. I simply took him for granted, and this is what I chose. I’m sure he’s moved on and hates me. I’d have walked away too. He’s better without me. There’s just one more thing I need to tell Talon. “I’ve decided to move back to Texas. I’ve come to the realization that this is not my home. I’ve tried, yet everything feels unnatural, so I’m moving back.” “You really think that’s the best idea?” “Yes, I do.” Talon pauses, slowly bobbing his head. “Okay, then, I support you.”

“Thanks.” “What are friends for?” He pins me with a charming smile, the same one he threw at me the night of his party around the bonfire. “You’re still my best friend, and don’t you dare try getting out of it.” I giggle. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” After that, we sit shoulder to shoulder, people watching. “What do you think about that guy?” He points at a gentleman passing. Shoving his shoulder, I laugh. “Boy, you never stop.” “I’m going to miss you.” I look over into a seriously sad face. Hearing that makes me sad too. “I’ll miss you too.” Before I start crying, I stand up, Talon follows, and I give him

the biggest hug. What we had is gone. No magic can save this. There’s nothing else to do but say good-bye. Leaning back, I take a good look at him. “I guess this is good-bye?” “Fuck no. Let’s just say I’ll see you later. Good-byes are too permanent.” I smile to that. One more hug and kiss to my cheek, and Talon and I are done.

Talon God, I’m going to miss that ass!

Chapter 28 Four months later Lo The move back goes pretty smoothly except for Maggie’s attempt to sneak Diddy in one of my boxes. I couldn’t miss the box with all the holes poked in it.

Maggie and I cry and cry, saying good-bye. We agree to FaceTime and text as much as possible. She’s no longer my human crutch. In fact, a whole bunch

of little changes are taking place. For starters, I get my own apartment, alone, and put my parents’ ranch house on the market. Between school and work, I quickly develop a tight-knit circle of friends. Mia, my boss, I especially grow fond of. She’s twenty years my senior and has me looking up to her like a mom; her word is like scripture. She has a kind heart but the fury of killer shark when need be. She’s a graphic designer and owns a successful group with four other designers, who work on everything from book and magazine covers to advertisements and exhibits. The job I was hired for is a receptionist, but Mia recognized something more in me, so she

says, and asked me to be her personal assistant. Mia’s head pops out of her office. “Lo darling, would you mind running up to the deli to pick up the sub platter I ordered. I have a very important client coming in for a meeting, and I need it quickly. Just pull money from petty cash.” Zipping downtown, I dash into the deli. The order line is stacked up five deep, but as luck would have it, the pickup counter is empty. Platter in hand, I grab several containers of fruit and jump in one of the checkout lanes. I’m next, when a woman in her fifties behind me taps on my shoulder. “Excuse me.” I blink, studying her face, trying to

place her. “We’ve never met, but I know who you are. He asked me to give this to you if I ever see you about.” On one side it’s a navy-blue business card. Before I can turn it over, I’m distracted with a call from Mia. “Are you close?” Shoving the card in my purse, I pay for lunch and rush back to the office, not giving the older lady a second thought. “On my way.”

Three of my girlfriends and I are going down to this new honky-tonk bar for my twenty-first birthday. Drinking isn’t my thing, but they insist it’s a rite of passage for any twenty-one-yearold. From the second my cowboy boots touch

maple floors, my legs can’t keep still. The music is loud and the whoops and the hollers are even louder. The place is pure country and packed wall-to-wall with people drinking and line dancing. With her hand in mine, Gigi pulls me straight to the bar. “Listen up, folks,” she yells. “This here is my girl’s twenty-first birthday today. Show her some hospitality and let’s get her sloshed!” A crowd-raising roar lifts as well as every beer in hand. Shots galore come my way, one after another after another. This place is crawling with handsome men who can dance. My weakness.

If I were in a different place in my life, I would entertain some of the comeons, but that part is still wounded. I haven’t dated at all; it seems so meaningless. Anyone can tell you you’re pretty; I need much more than that. The whole night I play with a heavy,

unsettling sense of being watched, but gradually that numbs when my blood turns to alcohol. My crystal twenty-firstbirthday tiara and jelly legs give people reason enough to watch me make a fool of myself. I have no idea how I got home. The last thing I remember is being carried. By whom, I don’t know. All of us girls were equally tiny and wasted. The next morning I wash off the twenty-one red lipstick kisses running up my arm and go about straightening the house. I don’t notice it until much later in the day. I couldn’t.

Staring at the Post-it, I flip it over and over in my hand, wanting more. This

can only be one person. But he couldn’t? Couldn’t what? Stay? Talk to me? Resist helping? I don’t know. That’s when I remember the navy-blue card. Dumping the contents of my purse out onto my bed, I find it, all beat up. This may be a mistake, but I have to know if it’s him. Nervously dialing the number on my cell phone, I wait. After two rings, someone picks up. “Hello, Olivia speaking.” Quickly, I push end. My heart throbs with crippling pain, making it hard to breathe. A lone tear puddles on the screen, and my shaky hands drop the phone to the bed. I guess

that’s it. He’s moved on. All I can do is breathe and accept what I’d already suspected. Her voice though makes it very real. This is pure masochism, but I sit on my bed and scroll through every photo of him and his work he ever sent me and bawl. When no more tears fall, I select that whole folder and delete every single image. It’s my way of cleansing my soul, releasing him. If only I had known our last kiss would be to my temple. I would have turned my head.

A sneak peek into Heath’s book STROKED Two and a half years later I want her to handle it directly. She has the power and skills to. It needs to be done right, and the graphic design company she works for is the best around. Usually, my manager would do all the contacting, but I have other motives, so I place the bait and wait for her to bite.

We bounce emails back and forth, working every tiny detail out. The more we communicate, the wittier she gets. Throw in some flirting and I think of any reason to write an email, change details then change them back. I crave more time, more of her attention. I miss her. I tried dating, a few girls even made me smile, but every touch was blank and had me wishing it was her. Mom mentioned over dinner once that she bumped into Lo at the deli a couple of years ago. She passed along my card, but nothing ever came of it. Sad really. Our love was temporary madness. Her back-and-forth antics drove me insane, but I refused to be her second choice. Pure curiosity drives me

to know why she’s back. She hasn’t reached out to me, but something tells me things with lover boy in Florida must have gone sour. Not my problem. After all this time, I’ve got to know. Why him in that moment? Maybe that’s what’s keeping me from letting go and moving on. I’ll give her a chance. I won’t make her feel like shit, but I damn sure need closure. It’s the only way for me to move on. Watch your back. Ms. Knight. I’m coming for you.

As if I haven’t said enough I mean after over 96,000 words I think the title is fitting. A huge thank-you to all you readers! Open up the confetti cannons and sound the choir of children because we Indies thrive from you. A thousand potent thank-you’s! If you want more of Lo, Talon, and Heath, go to my author Pinterest page at:

www.pinterest.com/rebekahrue/ If you enjoyed reading this book, please take a moment and write a review on Amazon or Goodreads or your

favorite retailer. Even better, copy and paste to both. It doesn’t have to be long. A review for an indie author is HUGE, and without you guys, it’s quite difficult to get the word out. Word of mouth is powerful, and telling just one person can make or break me. Let’s not do any breaking. You would be doing me a huge favor, so please and thank you. With your good words, maybe my husband will continue to let me write another book for you guys. J Check out my website: RebekahRue.com Currently, I’m working on the second installment of Beaten entitled Stroked, and then Maggie has been yelling at me to give her and Bain a story of their own. So lots in the works. Stay tuned and keep the reviews coming! Love all you book whores! Keep reading. The first little flutters you get in the beginning of a book are one of the best feelings to live for. Writing+ reading=sanity.

Xxxooxxx -Rebekah Rue

Acknowledgments Now for my thank-yous, I bow down to my husband, Chris, for being the most understanding, patient, and loving Mr. Mom I could ask for. You supported me and took care of many meltdowns while I was locked away in my office, writing. God sent you down that paper towel aisle for a reason. No other man would have stuck by this kind of crazy, and for that, I love you endlessly. You are my strength and deserve your own special version of a thank-you. One day we’ll get an adult-only swim. I love you! J To my two amazing children, I’m sorry my answer

was always, huh? or shhh, Mommy’s thinking right now. I missed many sunny days in the pool and can’t wait to cannon-ball in to play. I love you guys to pieces and am dying for tons of make-up kisses. Whitty, thank you for listening endlessly to my plot changes, helping me name my characters (how many different Lo’s did I have. Ha!), and cheering me on overall. You’ve become an amazing friend and the perfect person to bounce stuff off of. I owe you. Michelle, you opened my eyes to all the little details that the story needed to thrive. You picked me up and straightened me out when I thought about not publishing this book because of an editor’s critiques. That editor was right, and I’m so much happier I changed what she recommended—after I cried my eyes out first. Now you’re actually living the story. Jennifer Roberts-Hall, can I just say you are an amazing woman. I’ve said it once and I’ll tell everybody again that you were like my golden ticket and your knowledge was untouchable. You didn’t turn me away when I clobbered you with endless questions

on a daily basis. You basically taught me the ropes, and in a process that was overwhelming and scary, you made it simple. B.L. Berry, I can’t thank Jennifer enough for introducing us. I had questions, and, girl, you had answers and motivation to go with it. You made me feel like I was handed the key to a secret society, telling me all the secrets. You are the best. Here’s a shout-out to all the bloggers who took the time and pimped Beaten with love. I appreciate all of you and wish everyone the best. To my betas, Deana W., DeAnna P., Michelle P., and Kaitie R, the patience a beta reader has to have to read a book full of grammatical errors and missing storyline is extreme. Thank you for taking time out of your busy lives to help build Beaten. I could never repay each one of you for your strong words and helpful ideas. You ROCK!!! Kaitie, Kaitie, Kaitie, you’re one of the most beautiful people I know. I can’t thank BL enough for introducing

us. Thank you for all your crazy, sweet words and helpful thoughts. You make me feel like I’m the most important author ever. Blogging is in your blood. One day you and I will have a REAL frappe together, no more virtual ones. Sarah Hansen from Okay Creations, thank you for the cover. Thank you Roser Portella Florit and Deviant Art and cover model Amber Ornelas. The photo is truly breathtaking. Theresa Wegand, my spicy, take-charge, no-nonsense editor. Love you, girl! I place you on a pedestal for your skills to take an average sentence and make it sparkle. You clearly are the queen of what you do. Thank you for being so professional and making this experience exciting. Can’t wait to work with you again. A small thanks to Coca-Cola, which powered my characters along with the workout video Insanity. After I did them, I was superhuman in the writing

department. They were my muses. And to my longtime work family at the surgery center, thank you, thank you, thank you for the many hours of comedy that brought out many book ideas.

About the Author Rebekah Rue was born in Dolton, Illinois, but now lives in Florida. She attended Polk State College where she graduated with a license as a Registered Nurse and works in an eye surgical center. She writes when she can, which according to her husband is every blinking second. Of course she loves to read. She reads about as much love, angst, cocky alpha males, and love triangles she can get her hands on. She is a severe chocoholic (she swears it's what keeps her skinny). She never grew out of loving Disney. She is incredibly thankful for her husband Chris (her high

school sweetheart she was lucky enough to marry), and her two kids. After waiting a year for Rebekah to finish writing Beaten, they didn’t die of starvation. Who knew? Hang out with Rebekah on Facebook or Instagram for great new teasers, upcoming info, and other fun stuff. www.facebook.com/rebekah.rue.1 Or Instagram with me at www.instagram.com/rebekah_rue/ RebekahRue.com