TV-MA The Box Set - Tabatha Vargo, Melissa Andrea

JACK HAMMER Copyright © 2015 by Tabatha Vargo All Rights Reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events or real people are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. JACK HAMMER/Tabatha Vargo/Melissa Andrea Cover Art by Romantic Book Affairs





PROLOGUE HIS PENIS WAS IN MY FACE. I say penis loosely because even though I wasn’t the type of girl to use the word, it was more of a cock than a penis. Let me explain the difference. A penis is a male reproductive organ—one used for procreation purposes and urination only. It’s the thing that distinguishes a man from a woman. Men have a penis. Women have vaginas. It’s simple biology. This man did not have a penis. No. He had a cock—a thing of beauty—standing tall with the confidence that any woman who took a ride would be more than thrilled with the results. He had a cock that throbbed with want and arousal—ready to explode like a fountain of pleasure. The more I stared at it the more my mouth watered. He thrust his hips closer, sliding the hard, mushroom-shaped head along my cheek. My face burned with embarrassment as the women around me screamed and threw dollar bills onto the stage. His lower abdominal muscles, forming a perfect V, jerked and flexed as he moved, making my fingers itch to touch them. His G-string was pulled to the side to release the beast between his legs, but the rest of it stayed in place housing the money women had stuffed in there for just a touch of him. Every now and again, a twenty would fall from his G-string, landing between his legs. Twenties. Who the hell had that kind of money? I closed my eyes and breathed in deep as I waited to disappear into the nothing. I don’t know what made me agree to a night out with the girls, but while I was enjoying looking at the fine male specimen in front of me, the strip club I’d been dragged to wasn’t my thing. My eyes moved up, rolling across his tan abs and chest. I took note of the sexy tattoos that crawled up his sides, before my eyes landed on his pierced nipples. His neck was thick, and a tiny vein was popping out on the side from his workout. His jaw muscles were tight, ticking to the beat of the music he danced to, and his teeth were plunged into his bottom lip like he was seconds away from coming all over my face.

Then my eyes met his icy blues and everything faded away. The music and women disappeared, and I saw the exact moment when he recognized me. His expression changed, his face dropping completely as his body stopped all movement. “Blaine?” His name lit a fire across my tongue, burning my taste buds and leaving an acrid flavor in my mouth. Shivers of awareness moved through me. It was him. His face was one I’d never forget. It haunted my dreams at night—kept me from dating anyone because he was all I could think about. He was all I’d ever wanted. His mouth moved, and I read his thick lips as he mouthed my name. His brows were pulled down—his eyes narrowing at me as he tilted his head and slowly backed away from the front of the stage. And then he was gone, covering his beautiful cock and taking my heart, which he’d stolen when I was seventeen, with him.



PART 1: LOVE AND LOSS



1 CHELSEY AND MY STRAP POPPED. Not only did that suck, but the zipper on my bag wasn’t closed all the way, which meant my books and papers went flying all over the busy hallway. Good times. No seriously… the best of times. It was the second book bag I’d gone through, and we were only four months into the school year. It was my fault considering I never visited my locker. It was faster to carry all my books with me at all times. Being late to class wasn’t something I ever wanted to be. “Damn,” I hissed. I dropped to my knees and started stuffing my things into my broken bag. The frayed strap flapped at the side like a dead animal while I snatched up everything within my reach. Kids shuffled by me, barely missing my fingers in their rush to get to class. Shoes of all colors and sizes moved past my vision, stepping on my assignments and pushing my books out of reach. Then the bell rang, filling the hallway with a noisy reminder that time had run out, and officially making me late for the first time ever. “Damn,” I growled again, shoving my mousey, brown hair behind my ear to get it out of my face. Then a set of male hands entered my sight and began to help me. His fingers were long and tan as they wrapped around my economics book and set it inside my bag. A tiny tattoo of a skull was inked into the skin between his thumb and first finger, and my eyes stayed glued on the green, discolored drawing of rebellion. Thick veins ran up his muscular arms just below the skin as if he’d just gotten done working out. I followed those veins up his forearms where they disappeared inside his elbows. His olive skin was smooth and rippled over his muscles as he helped me. My eyes moved up his arms, past his wide shoulders and neck, landing on a set of thick lips with a light dusting of dark hair around them. That’s where it stopped. He wasn’t looking at me, he was looking down. His dark, tousled hair fell into his face as he helped me clean my papers and books, blocking the rest of his face completely.

“Thank you,” I said, shocked that anyone had stopped to help me. I swallowed hard around the discomfort of talking to a total stranger, and cleared my throat, which was thick with nerves. Then he looked up, his blazing, blue eyes moving over my face and effectively shifting my universe. They were the eyes of a wolf, wild and reckless, and they glowed like they were lit from within—light and icy in color, yet so dark and mysterious. The side of his mouth lifted into a smirk, and his thick lips grabbed my attention as an adorable dimple popped on the side of his cheek, wrecking his bad boy persona briefly. He nodded. “No worries,” he responded. His voice was deep and strong, like that of an older man. It rumbled from within as if it took pieces of his soul to speak. The strangest thing was I felt his voice as if he’d spoken against my skin. Goose bumps traveled across my body, forcing me to rub at my arms as if I were cold. He zipped my book bag, and tied the tattered strap with adept fingers, before lifting it like it weighed nothing as he stood. He reached his hand out to me, and I stared at it, feeling confused. My face went up in flames when I realized what he was offering. I placed my hand in his, and he pulled me from my knees and into a standing position. He miscalculated my tiny build when he pulled, and I fell into him, embarrassing myself beyond belief. My nose brushed against his T-shirt, and I breathed him in. He smelled like motor oil and cologne, and although the two didn’t sound like a winning combination, they smelled heavenly. To me, he reeked of danger and something mysterious—like the pungent odor of the unknown elements my sheltered life was missing—like a unique set of pheromones produced only for me. He set me straight with strong hands, his calloused fingers digging slightly into the soft skin of the top of my arms. He caught me staring at him, and I turned away, slapping the dirt from the knees of my jeans before reaching out for my bag. But before I could take the bag, he stepped away and pulled it from my reach. “I’ll carry it for you.” He grinned, tossing his dark hair from his eyes with a flick of his head. And as cliché as it sounds, I melted on the spot. There would be no walking to class since I was sure I was big pile of Chelsey on the floor. I was positive I’d been liquefied from the heat of his smile and in need of being mopped up. “But you’ll be late,” I insisted. He chuckled, shaking his head as amusement danced in his eyes. “What’s your name, sweet girl?” he asked. Sweet girl. Swoon.

My cheeks tingled as I blushed harder than I ever had, the heat running to my brain and slowing my thinking process. “Chelsey.” I swallowed. “Well, Chelsey, I hate to point out the obvious, but I’m pretty sure we’re already late.” My face flamed brighter and hotter and I smiled. “I guess you’re right,” I choked. Holding out his hand again, he nodded toward the end of the hallway. “Lead the way, Chelsey.” He said my name like he was trying it out to see how it felt against his tongue—like it brought him pleasure when it bounced around his mouth and leapt from his lips. It was erotic and sensual. My name had never sounded racy before. Actually, there was nothing sexy about me at all. Biting into my lip, I turned and started toward my next class. He followed me to Mr. Master’s room, and I felt his eyes on the back of my head, raking down my back and landing on my ass, making me even more self-conscious. When we reached the door, I turned to face him, keeping my eyes lowered, and he handed me my heavy bag. “Enjoy class, Chelsey,” he said, ducking down to look at me beneath the hair I’d let fall around my face. His smile was wide and suggestive, like he knew what he was doing to me. His brow lifted in question as if he was waiting for me to say something, but I was shy, I always had been. I wasn’t used to boys giving me much notice, especially not boys like the one standing in front of me. He was tall and beautiful, like he’d been molded by the hands of a marvelous artist. His cheekbones were high, his brows perfect, and his eyes… there weren’t enough words in the English language to describe their beauty. He was magnificent. The fact I’d even noticed those things about him said a lot. Boys were the last thing on my mind. Half the time, unless I was working directly with one, I barely paid attention to the males in school. But this one… it was different with him. I felt as if I was choking when he looked at me—as if every word I’d learned since grade school suddenly ran from my memory. I completely lost my ability to put together even the smallest words, and for the first time in my life, I stuttered. He transformed me from the intelligent girl with the 4.0 GPA, and the possible valedictorian for Weathersby high school, right into an airhead with no knowledge whatsoever. I didn’t like it. I hated feeling stupid and inadequate. “You too,” I responded. I reached for the doorknob, ready to take flight and be away from the boy who stunned

me senseless, but then I remembered I hadn’t thanked him. Turning quickly, my eyes moved over his back—over his dark T-shirt and rugged, blue jeans that looked as if they were made for only him. Chains hung from his back pocket and rattled against his ass with his stride, and when he reached up to playfully tap the doorframe above him, his shirt lifted giving me a tiny peek of gray boxers above his low-hanging jeans. He was all trouble. Anyone who looked at him knew that. And yet, he stopped to help little ol’ me when everyone else stepped over me like I was invisible. “Hey,” I called out, prompting him to turn around. “I didn’t get your name.” Again, a breathtaking smile broke across his face, and the dimple that transformed him from bad boy to sweetheart popped out. “Blaine,” he stated. Blaine. It was unique, and felt odd across my tongue when I mouthed it to myself. I liked it. It matched him perfectly. Dangerous and mysterious—dark and unknown. No. No. No. All bad things for a girl like me. “Thanks, Blaine,” I said, fire filling my cheeks once again. “You’re very welcome, Chelsey.” He warmed me in a way I’d never experienced before—in a way that was forbidden. He was the fruit I dare not sample—the color of sin and the devil. And I knew before he even disappeared from my sight that he’d tainted me during the tiny exchange between the two of us—changed me in a way that my parents would despise. My eyes lingered on him as he strutted down the hall toward the doors leaving the school as if he couldn’t care less if he made it to his next class. Careless and free— something I’d never be. With a red face and a smile that made my cheeks ache, I opened the door to Mr. Master’s room, and stepped inside, earning myself my very first tardy.

********** LATER, AT LUNCH, I found out I was probably the only girl in school who didn’t know who Blaine was. Apparently, he was very popular with the ladies, and had slept with most of the ones I passed in the hallway every day. I slipped my glasses from my face since I didn’t need them if I wasn’t going to be reading, and looked around the cafeteria. People stood in line waiting for their food, and the ones that weren’t waiting were busy talking way too loud and filling the room with a dull roar.

Opening my sandwich, I took a big bite before telling Lynn all about my bag malfunction and the boy who rescued me from the herd of students in the hallway. “He sounds nice. Did you get his name?” she asked. Stuffing a chip in her mouth, she licked the salt from her lips and fingers before chugging her soda. I finished chewing and sipped my water. “Um… I think he said his name was Blaine.” Soda spewed from Lynn’s lips and her eyes grew two sizes. “Blaine?” she whispered roughly, choking and coughing. “As in, Blaine Wesley?” Looking around, I noticed people staring at us since Lynn made a scene spitting out her drink. I grabbed a napkin and went to work cleaning up her soda. Sopping up the mess, I kept my head down. I hated having a ton of attention on me. It was suffocating and nerve-wracking. “Who?” I asked confused. I knew we were talking about the same guy. Blaine wasn’t a common name. The chances that there were two people in our school with that name were slim to none. “It’s like I don’t even know you,” she said, throwing her arms up in aggravation. “Blaine Wesley, also known as the sexiest guy in school. Dark hair? Light eyes? A walking wet dream?” She waved her hand around as if trying to jog my memory. Still, I had no idea who she was talking about. I’d never heard the name Blaine until that day. Although, the guy I met in the hallway earlier matched all those descriptions. “How can you not know these things, Chelsey? I’m baffled by the fact that you’re able to memorize all the crap you read in books, but yet you don’t know the name of the hottest guy in school.” She was totally appalled. Her face was hilarious, and had I been in the mood to laugh, I would have. “Yeah,” I dragged the word out. “Never heard of him until today.” I shrugged. “And I’ll have you know, the crap I read in my books is much more important than the name of some guy I’ll probably never see again.” She stared at me from across the table with her mouth wide open before shaking her head. “Wow. I’m pretty sure you pass him every day, Chels.” She rolled her eyes and went back to eating. She’d given up on me years before, after realizing I had no desire to be anyone important in high school. That was small time as far as I was concerned. High school was a rite of passage. It wasn’t the place in my life where I wanted to peak. Tossing a chip at my face, she laughed as I smacked it away.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked. Her smile was radiant and beautiful. Of course, Lynn had always been the pretty one— the social one. Her blue eyes and auburn hair gave her a classic look I envied. I was stuck with the most drab, brown hair and eyes any person could be born with. It didn’t help that I very rarely got to know anyone, and therefore had no social life outside of Lynn. We’d been best friends since birth, so I never had to work to gain her friendship. Our parents were friends and attended the same country club, which was the only reason we grew up together. Still, we were total opposites. Socializing had always been the last thing on my mind—Columbia University and my GPA being the first. My father was an alumnus of Columbia and it was ingrained in me from the moment I could speak that I was going to attend the same school and have an amazing career when I was older. Lynn’s father was the same, but while my mother was completely on board with my dad, her mother was a fashionista. I was into academics, and Lynn was into fashion. I loved her, but while I was planning on going to school for a master’s in science to one day become a doctor, Lynn’s ultimate goal was to become a trophy wife. Not much in the aspirations department if you asked me. Still, even with us being completely incompatible, I loved her. She was my best friend —the one who stood by me no matter what anyone else said. She was the girl who stood up for me when the students teased me in middle school. She was a fiery redhead waiting for someone to push her buttons, and she understood me better than anyone else. “So, there’s a party tonight,” Lynn started. “No,” I said before she even finished. “Come on, Chelsey. It’s just a party. It would do you some good to get out.” “No,” I repeated. Biting into my sandwich, I flipped the page in my economics book and started to study. “Blaine might be there,” she sang, nibbling around a chip. I looked up from my book, lifting a brow at her attempt to reel me in. “You do realize even if I wanted to go to this party, my father would never have it?” And he wouldn’t. My dad was strict—had been since I fell off my bike when I was little and broke my arm. But while most seventeen-year-olds would rebel against their parents, I strived on the discipline. It was the perfect excuse for when Lynn tried to pull me in on something social that I had no desire to be a part of. “You do realize there’s such a thing as sneaking out, right?” she countered. Damn her.

“I’m not sneaking out, Lynn.” “You are sneaking out, Chelsey,” she argued. “Please. Just do this for me. I promise I’ll take you home whenever you’re ready to go.” I always won these arguments, but I could see it in her eyes that she wasn’t going to give up as easily this time. The usual white flag she’d wave after a few minutes of arguing with me was apparently packed away with yesterday’s outfit. The good news was, this was the first time she’d ever promised to take me home as soon as I was ready. It might be worth giving it a shot. Plus, there was the added bonus that I might get to gaze at Blaine from across the room for a few brief seconds. “Fine,” I said, earning a wide-eyed look from Lynn. “Seriously?” “Yes. Seriously. What time should I sneak out?” The smile she gave me made my stomach bottom out. Had I known the trouble that was headed my way, I would’ve never agreed to some stupid party with her.



2 BLAINE CHELSEY FORD. I’d seen her around school, and passed her in the hallway every day between classes. She was a quiet, rich girl—more concerned with her books and classes than anything else. We had a class together the year before, but she barely looked at me, much less talked to me. Half of the time she had her face in a book, hiding her flushed cheeks and big, brown eyes, but sometimes, and not very often, she’d look up when she walked down the hallway. Her brown hair would move with her step, and every now and again she’d smile. I liked her smile. I liked it a lot. Her lips were pouty with a natural tilt that made her always look like she had a secret, and her eyes were amazing. They were wide and observant, and on the occasions when she looked up, it was like she could see everything. Her frame was small, her hands tiny, and her waist even tinier. She didn’t dress the way the rest of the girls did, and I think that’s one of the things that caught my attention. She stood out, while trying to blend in. She was the opposite of every girl I fucked with, but there was something about her— a forbidden aspect I was inexplicably drawn to. It made me want to know her—be a part of her world—push her to do something wild and crazy. It was fucked up on my part, but I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t obsessed. I didn’t get obsessed, especially over a chick, but she was different. She didn’t slobber all over my cock like the other girls. I didn’t catch her staring at me like I was a piece of fucking beef. She didn’t pay me the time of day, and I appreciated that shit so much. Don’t get me wrong, seeing her sweet blushes and the stars in her eyes when I helped her with her bag was nice, but I wanted more from her. So much more. If a little of something was good, more was always better. After I helped her with her bag and left her at her classroom door, I left the school. Falling into my car, I cranked the engine and peeled tires leaving the parking lot. Flipping on the radio, I turned it up when my favorite Blow Hole song flowed from the speakers. The warm Georgia air moved through my car, ruffling my hair, as I rode with my windows down through town. The run-down homes and trailer parks on the sides of the

road blurred as I sped to get to my destination. I lived on the shitty side of town, but my parents wanted me to go to school on the rich side, so we used a friend’s address. Needless to say, I went to school with a bunch of stuck-up bitches. Most of them begging to rebel against daddy and climb all over my cock. You better believe I let them, too. Every fucking chance I got. Thirty minutes later, I was turning into a shabby trailer park down the road from my house. Pulling into Jay’s yard, I let my engine idle and honked once before I turned my car off and got out. Pierce, his pit-bull, met me at my car, jumping up on me and licking my arms. “Down, Pierce!” I said, wiping my arm on my T-shirt. “Dude, where the fuck you been?” Jay called from his front porch. He was in his boxers, nursing a beer in the middle of the day. Fucking loser. His long body looked dirty, and was covered in scars from the rough lifestyle he led. There wasn’t much drama that happened around our hood that didn’t involve him. A year before, he wound up in the hospital for two weeks after being shot in the calf. Needless to say, he had a permanent limp. Still, he kept living like he was dying, and was always down for a good time. He was also the man everyone went to when they needed a fix of the good shit. “I had some shit to finish up. You got it?” I asked, referring to the ounce of green I was there to pick up. He dabbled in everything, but I was there to slow down, not speed up. I’d seen some of the crazy fuckers who left his trailer all jacked up on speed ball and everything else they could get their hands on. Not me. Fuck that. I wanted to maintain my good looks, and smoking meth and the rest of that bullshit aged you quick. But even though I didn’t buy the crazy shit, I was still one of Jay’s best customers. He was always there when I needed something to party with, and we were having a party down the road from my house later. Everyone was going to be looking to me for a fat bag of Kush when it was time to light up the night. I was all about the high life. It was the only way to live. The wooden steps leading into Jay’s singlewide trailer felt like they were deteriorating beneath my feet. I was surprised some junky hadn’t killed themselves while leaving. The aluminum door squeaked like it was seconds away from falling from its hinges when he opened it, and I had to duck down to enter since the ceilings were so low. He lived in a shithole, but it was his. That counted for something. I left an hour later, high as fuck and ready to take on Friday night. I drove home to our small, brick house and parked on the side of the road across the street from our driveway. Dad’s piece-of-shit truck was in the driveway and mom’s run-down minivan was beside it.

Rolling up my windows, I climbed from my car and locked the doors. Everyone knew better than to fuck with my car, but just in case someone was feeling extra stupid, I kept it locked. I waited for a car to pass, and then ran across the street and into our yard. Maddie, my baby sister, was running around with our dad right on her little heels. Her soft, baby squeals warmed my heart, and I dropped to the grass in a sitting position when she spotted me and came running my way. “Baine!” she called out my name. Her little legs wobbled as she jetted through the grass toward me. It was cute. She couldn’t say Blaine. The letter L was hard for her. She said yub instead of love, it was my favorite word from her. “Maddie!” I called back, matching her excitement. I held my arms open for her, and she fell into them in a fit of giggles. She was taller than most three-year-olds, but she was beautiful like my mom and strong-willed like my dad. Maddie was my favorite person in the world. She didn’t judge me. She wasn’t old enough to understand how fucked up I was, which meant she loved me unconditionally. I enjoyed her love as much as I could, since I knew one day she’d grow up and know better. Scooping her up, I waved her above my head and made airplane noises as I ran across the yard to the front door. When I came crashing through the door with a laughing Madison, my mom turned from her soap operas and laughed with her. Dad came up behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be at school?” he asked. “I could say the same to you. Shouldn’t you be at work?” I countered. He shoved me playfully before sitting next to my mom. “I got off early,” he said. “Yeah, so did I.” I went into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of chips before turning down the hallway to my room. “You keep skipping school and you’re going to fail, Blaine,” my mom called down the hallway after me. We weren’t rich people. We lived in a small, three-bedroom, brick house in a bad neighborhood, but the thing was, we knew the drug dealers and crazy people by first names. We’d lived in the neighborhood longer than most of the others. My dad held a job as a mechanic and worked hard. He wasn’t into anything crazy and lived an honest life. He was supportive of me and pushed me to do my best, but basically he trusted me to do the right thing or learn from my mistakes. My mom was a stay-at-home-mom, and she was damn good at her job. She took great

care of her house. It wasn’t much, but it was clean. My sister was well cared for and clean, and my bed sheets were washed once a week. The woman was on top of her game, which meant I never needed to look for clean clothes. We were fed well and loved hard, and for that I’d always appreciate her. She was a lot like my dad—not too pushy or nosey, and always willing to give me space to make my own mistakes. Yet when the shit hit the fan, she was always there to pick up the pieces. My parents were the best, even if they struggled every day to make ends meet, they made it a point to struggle together. I fell asleep on my bed soon after I laid down, and when I woke up, it was dark outside. Pulling out something to wear, I took a quick shower and got ready for the party. I kissed Madison on the cheek, followed by my mom, and then I promised my dad I’d be safe. He always made me swear I wouldn’t drink and drive, or any crazy shit like that. “Try and be home by midnight please,” he said, never taking his eyes away from his football game. “Sure thing,” I said, stepping out onto the brick porch and shutting the door behind me. Our neighbor, Brian, pulled up in his driveway then, the loud bass of his speakers shaking his trunk. “Yo, Blaine! Where you headed, bro?” he asked, turning down his music. “Party down at the farm,” I said, pulling my car door open and falling in. Ten minutes later, I was parking on the big plot of land where everyone hung out. The field used to be full of corn, but now it was empty with only a few old husks lying around. We’d build a big bonfire, get drunk off our asses, and smoke more Kush than any one of us could afford. It didn’t take me long to feel the beers I was drinking, and the smoke I’d smoked up. It was two hours in, and I already had a decent buzz going. I was sitting in a fold-out chair far away from the fire. My eyes burned, making the land around me blur and swim. I tipped my plastic cup up and downed the rest of my beer. The girl on my lap, Amy I think her name was, caressed my cock through my jeans, but I wasn’t feeling it. The party was a dud, and I knew if I wasn’t totally fucked up, I’d be ready go. The music died when the battery in Al’s mustang died, and it was too quiet. People lounged around the fire, passing blunts and laughing, but I was tucked away in the corner watching. And then I saw her. Chelsey Ford. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Simple all the way, which stuck out big time around the rest of the girls who were dressed for sex. Her hair was down, covering most of her cheeks. She stood next to the fire, the glow and flicker of the flames highlighting her. She nibbled her bottom lip nervously, which I noticed she did a lot. It made me think

of kissing her and soothing the bitten parts of her flesh. It wasn’t until I saw her that my cock began to harden beneath Amy’s fingers. My eyes moved around Chelsey, noticing she was alone, and I wondered what in the world she was doing there. Obviously, by the look on her face, she had no desire to be anywhere near the party. And then she looked up, and her eyes flickered to mine and held. Something moved in my stomach then. She’d never looked at me before, but she was seeing me now. She wasn’t seeing my car or my blue eyes. She wasn’t looking down at my crotch or throwing herself at me. She was simply looking. And for the first time ever, I felt like someone could see right through me. Slipping Amy from my lap, she whined annoyingly as I stood and walked toward the fire. Chelsey tensed when I moved closer, never taking my eyes away from her. She put her head down and tucked her hair behind her ear, and then again she was watching me watch her. I stood beside her, the fire warming the front of my body and making popping noises into the cool, night air around us. “Are you having fun?” I asked. Lame. Surely I could’ve thought of something better to ask. “What do you think?” she asked, gazing around the dying party. I studied her profile. The sweep of her cheekbone. Her chin and the softness of her pouty lips. Her eyes were big and deep set, darker than the night around us, and I knew, I just knew, I had to have her. “I think I want to kiss you.” The drunken words rushed from my lips shocking even me. Damn. I’d definitely had too much to drink. She turned and looked at me with wide eyes, and before she could say anything I moved in and kissed her. My lips tingled against hers, her soft breath dusting my cheek and making me burn inside. She moaned against my lips, and I pressed harder, my lips parting. Just as quickly as it started, and just as her flavor began to coat my tongue, she pulled away. Using the back of her arm, she wiped hard at her lips, cutting through me with a hard glare. And then her tiny palm met my cheek with a loud smack. My face shifted and stung. Everyone around us stopped and looked at our little scene. I covered my heated cheek where her small palm hit me, and I couldn’t help but smile at her. My little, quiet girl was

a bit ferocious. Fuck it was sexy. She turned on her heel and started toward where the cars were parked. I watched her, the smirk stuck on my face making my cheeks ache. It might not happen tonight, tomorrow, or this month, for that matter, but Chelsey Ford would be mine. Now that I’d had a taste of her, I had to have her.





3 CHELSEY HE WAS BEAUTIFUL. END OF SUBJECT. His Siberian husky, clear, blue eyes, and his olive skin that glowed in the firelight only added to his good looks. The mysterious look in his eyes, and the spine-tingling smirk he gave me as he made his way toward me, made my nerves go wild. He was one gorgeous package, and the fact that he kept giving me so much of his attention was flattering, to say the least. I’d never admit that to anyone else, not even Lynn. The last thing she needed to know was that I was attracted to a guy we went to school with. She’d tell the world, and then I’d have to kill her and quit school. That would not be good for my GPA or my chances of getting into Columbia. And then he was kissing me, and the world around me shifted and changed. The colors were different, the night air warmer, and I had the distinct feeling I was floating. He was warm and sweet against my lips, his body moving closer and heating me in a way the fire in front of us couldn’t. It was my first kiss, and I wasn’t upset Blaine was the one giving it to me. I wasn’t thrilled that it was sudden and I was unprepared. I also hated that it was in front of a group of people I didn’t know or care about, but still, the boy choice could’ve been worse. I could’ve been kissing some stick-in-the-mud university stiff instead of the bad boy who made my blood boil. His tongue traced my lips, tickling the soft skin just inside my mouth, and then he opened his mouth a bit, and I could taste the smoke and beer on his breath. Realization of what I was doing, and where I was doing it, moved in and sent a shockwave through me. I hadn’t meant to slap him, but all of it was a jolt to my system. My first kiss had been with someone who was obviously drunk and most likely wouldn’t even remember the moment. It wasn’t anything like the moment I’d occasionally thought about, and it was done in front of a crowd of strangers, no less. It was the best and worst moment of my life. My palm stung, as I ran to Lynn’s car, tripping over roots and broken branches on the way. Throwing open the passenger’s side door, I climbed in and slammed it behind me. Not long after, Lynn climbed in. She was trying to cover the grin on her lips, which only added to my less than friendly disposition.

She opened her mouth to speak, but I stopped her. “Don’t,” I said, holding up my hand and turning away from her. “Okay,” she muttered. “Um… what just happened back there?” “I’ll tell you what just happened. That… that jerk kissed me!” I stuttered over my anger. Embarrassment and something else I couldn’t put a name on struck me deep. My insides and legs were shaky as tremors of unwanted heat moved through my core, and the strange feeling continued to build until I could name it. Excitement. That’s what it was. Why in God’s name was I feeling excitement? Especially when I should’ve been disgusted by such a blatant display of disrespect. But the truth was, his kiss hadn’t felt disrespectful at all. If you took away the taste of beer and smoke on his breath, it would’ve been the single best moment of my life. She wiped the smirk from her lips and cleared her throat. “Yeah. I saw that. Did you kiss him back?” she asked, prompting me to glare at her. “You’re not serious right now?” “I’m totally serious right now. Was it wonderful?” “Drive, Lynn.” I smacked my hand against the dash of her car. “You promised to take me home when I wanted to go home. I most certainly want to go home now.” What I didn’t want to do was evaluate the way I was feeling, and I really didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe later, once the shock of the night wore off, but not when I was still strung tight with nerves. Not when the weird feeling of anxiousness to kiss him again still sat heavy in my chest. That night I barely slept. And even though I brushed my teeth, I could still taste him. I woke the next morning feeling guilty for sneaking out of my house, and for the first time in my life, I felt dread and fear when I even thought about returning to school. Basically, because of Blaine, my emotions were heightened. Everything I was feeling felt enhanced, like his kiss had been a large dose of ecstasy. Not that I’d ever taken ecstasy, but I’d read books about it. I was displaying all the symptoms of someone riding a serious high. I spent Saturday attempting to study, but no matter what I did, my brain kept moving back to Blaine. It sickened me that my first kiss was with someone who didn’t even know me, yet it was still exhilarating at the same time. I was a bipolar mess. I was excited and disgusted all at once. Monday morning I had my mother drive me to school instead of having Lynn pick me up. I was nervous about going back, and having Lynn play twenty questions wasn’t going

to make it any better. I’d spent the last two days ignoring her phone calls and text messages. Walking through the hallway to my first class, everything seem relatively normal—no weird stares or anything of that nature. But then again no one paid me any attention—no one except the people in my debate club and a few other extracurricular activities I was into. Lugging the new book bag I bought the day before at the mall, I went into my first class and exhaled the breath I’d been holding when I took my seat. At least I made it to my first class with no issues. Hopefully the rest of the day would run that smoothly. More than anything, I prayed I wouldn’t run into Blaine. That was bound to be bad. Either he wasn’t going to remember something that was huge to me, the kiss, or he was going to remember, which for some strange reason felt like it would be equally bad. Leaving first period, I dragged myself through the hall to my second class. My heavy bag tugged my shoulders back, and I had to continuously adjust the straps as I walked. I was almost to the door, my head down as I made one final adjustment, when I felt a large hand on my shoulder. I stopped, tension stiffening my spine and legs, and I shook the hand from my shoulder. Turning, I lifted my chin and my eyes met Blaine’s. The soft, clear blue of his eyes moved over my face heating my cheeks in their wake. How was that even possible? He wasn’t smiling as his eyes moved over my expression. I wanted to ask him what he wanted, but instead I stood there like an idiot and stared up at him like he was some kind of god. Which let’s face it, he totally was. Then his mouth shifted, and a tiny grin pulled at his plump lips, revealing the dimple I’d had dreams about over the weekend. My tense body melted, and I felt his smile on my face as if it were the sun—warm and bright. “Hi, Chelsey,” he said. My tongue felt too large for my mouth, and my voice sounded too rough when I finally found it. “Hi,” I responded. He shoved his hands in his pockets, squaring his shoulders and making himself seem even taller. “Listen, I just want to apologize for the other night. I went about it all wrong. I know that now that I’m sober. It’s just I’d been drinking, and you looked so fucking sweet, and I don’t know… I just went for it.” I heard everything he said, but the only words that stuck in my mind was that he thought I looked sweet.

What did that even mean? And why did it make me feel like smiling like the Cheshire cat? “It’s okay.” My voice was rasped and quiet. “Is it?” he asked, his brows pinching in and his smile spreading. His deep, blue eyes moved over my face again, as if he was trying to read my secret thoughts. I wasn’t sure I liked him looking at me so closely. I was sure he could see every imperfection on my skin and that, on top of the fact that he’d kissed me, was making me crazy nervous. “I mean, I guess it’s okay,” I corrected myself. His grin grew, making his eyes sparkle under the florescent lights of the hallway. And then the bell chimed, and for a second time in my life, I was late to class. I blew out a breath, and closed my eyes in aggravation. Twice in less than a week. Great. Just freaking great. “Well, since it’s okay, you wouldn’t have a problem if I did it again?” He moved closer, his eyes landing on my lips and turning bluer before my eyes. Reaching out a hand, he ran his finger through the strands of hair beside my cheek. I licked my lips and swallowed hard as he moved closer yet again. The bell and tardy forgotten, I met his eyes, and nerves moved up my stomach making me feel nauseated. I open and closed my mouth like a fish out of water as I tried to think of what to say next. He continued to smile at me, obviously enjoying my discomfort. He looked super proud of himself for pulling such awkward responses from me, but before he could get any closer, I found my voice. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I blurted out. And then the strangest thing happened. He laughed. Maybe I was all wrong about him. Maybe he was playing around, and he really didn’t want to kiss me again. If his reaction to being told no was any indication, I’d say he was definitely playing around. “No. I didn’t think it would be,” he said. An expression resembling pride moved over his face, and his lips twitched with amusement. He was confusing me, and I felt totally inept, which I hated, of course. Being confused wasn’t something that happened often with me. I was book smart, not boy smart. I was fluent in six languages, and boy talk was not one of them. Before he could speak again, I pulled open the classroom door and fled, almost knocking over Ms. McCants, my English teacher, in my attempt to run away from Blaine. When I turned back, I saw his face through the small window on the door. And even though I couldn’t hear him, I could see he was still laughing.



********** “I THINK I LIKE HIM,” I said over my cafeteria corn dog. It tasted like cardboard and fake meat covered in mustard and ketchup, so I tossed it to my tray. The one day I forgot to bring my lunch, was the one day I felt like eating. It was just my luck. “I’m sorry? What did you just say?” Lynn’s mouth fell open at my words. “Blaine,” I whispered his name like he was an abomination. “I think I like him.” A huge smile split Lynn’s face before she threw her head back and started to laugh. The table full of girls beside us turned their heads our way like they wanted in on the joke. “What’s so funny?” I asked, feeling anger bubble up my stomach. It was rare that I opened up to anyone, and yet I had with her. Being laughed at was the last thing I expected or wanted. “Join the crowd, Chelsey.” She covered her mouth and tried to contain her laughter. “What’s that mean?” “It means every girl in this school likes Blaine Wesley. It sounds to me like you’re finally waking up to the world around you. A crush is a good thing. It means there’s hope for you yet.” “I do not… I repeat… I do not have a crush on anyone.” I pushed my tray to the side, snatched up my book bag, and left the cafeteria with Lynn’s eyes blazing me in the back. Girls who had dreams of going to Columbia University and one day becoming a doctor did not have crushes. They didn’t drool over boys who probably had no future, and they certainly didn’t go around kissing them. My feelings toward Blaine were a minor setback, but something I could definitely move past. And then as luck would have it, I ran straight into the one person who seemed to be under my skin lately just as I left the cafeteria. My face collided with his chest, his sweet scent filling my nostrils. He used strong hands to hold me to him until I could catch my footing. And then he continued to hold me to him until I had to pull myself away. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the girl who won’t give me the time of day?” he said with his signature, panty-melting grin. He gazed down at me, making me lose my voice. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Chelsey. I really do love running into you this way, but if you want to touch me, all you have to do is ask.” And there he was making me sick to my stomach again. They should name a

rollercoaster at a local fun park after him since he was such a gamut of ups and downs. At least that’s what being around him felt like. Disgusted, disgruntled, and just full of crazy, I pushed him to the side and walked away. Again, it was a minor setback. And as long he continued to speak to me that way, it would be a setback that would go by sooner rather than later.



4 BLAINE I WATCHED HER WALK AWAY with a smile on my face and my eyes roaming across her perfect, little ass and small frame. She was fucking adorable, and I was loving the chase she was sending me on. Shaking my head, I pushed through the cafeteria doors and made my way across the room to get a drink. I didn’t have many friends around school, since all my boys lived on the same side of town I did, but the ladies always welcomed me. So needless to say, it took me a while to get to what I wanted since I was repeatedly stopped by a different girl every few steps I took. Paying for my Pepsi, I left the cafeteria and went back to class. I sat in the back, paying enough attention to make decent grades. It was always bare minimum with me when it came to schoolwork, but I did whatever I needed to do to get me through to graduation day. I didn’t convince myself there would be college after high school. My parents couldn’t afford that shit, and as much as I worked now, I’d have to work even harder when I was done with school. There were bills to help pay at home, and four mouths to feed. I wanted to help my parents the best I could. I stayed the rest of the day, even though skipping the rest of my classes sounded fucking fabulous. I was eighteen. Technically, I could’ve quit, but the heartbreak I knew I’d see on my mom’s face kept me from doing that. Instead, I got up every morning, climbed my ass out of bed, and went to school like a good boy. Meanwhile, the boys my age around my neighborhood had long dropped out. Of course, they were all fucking losers who couldn’t keep the nose candy out of their noses, but still, they weren’t stuck in class listening to the most boring shit ever. After school, I went straight to work at the tire shop my old man worked at. I spent some afternoons there doing oil changes and tire rotations. It wasn’t much, but it put gas in my car, paid my liability only car insurance, helped a little at home, and left some change in my pocket. On the times when the paychecks were too small, I’d deal some for Jay and make a little extra. I only sold drugs when it was necessary. The last thing I needed was my mom’s fist through my face. She was a small woman, but I didn’t doubt for one second that she could do it.

After working at the shop for a few hours, I went home and washed off the nasty from the day. Sinking into my bed, I turned off the lamp and laid there in the dark. Closing my eyes, I pictured Chelsey, and I couldn’t help but smile. She really was something special. I realized that more and more every time she turned me down. She was way too good for me, but I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to at least try to get close to her. That night I slept and had dreams of the girl with the doe eyes and soft smiles. I’d never been so infatuated with a girl before. I didn’t know how to handle it, and I wasn’t sure I liked it. All I knew was her smile made me feel light and happy, and I craved the taste of her lips.

********** THE NEXT MORNING AT SCHOOL, I waited by the front doors in hopes of seeing her. She was thrilling, and Georgia life could get boring. I grinned at the girls who smiled when they passed me, and then I saw her and her friend making their way up the steps. I moved into their path and smirked to myself knowing neither of them were paying me any attention. And then her eyes moved to mine and they both stopped in front of me. She lifted a brow, before turning to go around me. Again, I stepped in her path, forcing her to either move into me or stop. Sadly, she stopped, which sucked. I wanted her to move into me. My body craved her heat almost as badly as it craved her taste. “Hi, Little Doe,” I said, dipping down to look beneath the hair she hid behind. I wanted to pull her long hair back and look at her pretty face. She had beautiful hair, but it was a crime that she hid those soulful eyes—eyes that somehow had the ability to see right through me—leaving me feeling weak and open to the elements around me. “Little doe?” She snorted cutely. “Should I be offended by that?” She didn’t wait for my response. Again, she tried to move around me, and again I blocked her path. The girl next to her, Lynn I believe her name was, covered her smile behind her hand. “Definitely not.” I reached out and took hold of her chin, forcing her to look up at me. Her skin was warm and made my fingertips tingle. She turned her head away and an annoyed expression moved across her face. I fucking loved it. I loved that she was irritated by me instead of falling into my palm the way most girls did. It only made me want her more—added to my need for her. “Go out with me,” I blurted, earning myself a good look at her eyes and face when she looked up at me in shock.

I didn’t ask girls out. I don’t think I’d ever been on an actual date, but I wanted to wine and dine her. I wanted to take her to a movie—do all the lame shit guys did when they liked a girl. “No.” She crossed her arms over her chest, drawing my eyes down over her perky rack. She hadn’t even thought about it before she answered me. That was unacceptable. “You’re not even going to think about it?” I asked, stepping into her path again as she tried to walk around me. “I don’t need to think about it. You’re not my type.” I stepped in front of her again, stopping her, and I chuckled. Our little game was fun. “Then what’s your type?” “That’s none of your business,” she snapped. She was like a pit-bull puppy—all bark. God, I hoped she liked to bite, too. “But I need to know.” “Why do you need to know?” She put her hands on her hips, showing her aggravation with the pinch of her lips. “How else am I going to know what to change about myself?” I was being playful. I couldn’t change if I wanted to, but it worked. She rolled her eyes and smiled. “You shouldn’t change who you are for anyone.” “I know, but I would for you,” I flirted. Her eyes moved over my face, gaging how serious I was, and I then watched as she slowly melted for me. She was a puddle in my hand, exactly how I wanted her. Sweet talk wasn’t my thing, but neither was dating. I was breaking all the rules for this girl. And then the bell rang and her face changed again. She sighed loudly running her hands down her makeup free cheeks. “Three,” she growled, gripping her tiny fists in anger. I was confused. “Three?” “Yes. Three. That’s how many times I’ve been tardy in my life. Two of those times were your fault.” Red blotches covered her neck and her cheeks flushed in anger. I rolled my lips into my teeth to keep from laughing at her. It was so sweet how worried she was about something as simple as being late. “I’m sorry. If I promise to never make you late again will you go out with me?” Her dark eyes moved over my face.

“Why?” she asked. “Why what?” “Why do you want to go out with me so badly? You do realize I’m never going to sleep with you, right?” I chuckled, shaking my head and enjoying her honesty. “And that’s exactly what I like about you.” I didn’t elaborate, she didn’t need to know how dirty I felt sometimes when a girl used me to get off. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the sex. But some nights, when I was sober as a bone, I could see it in their eyes. They thought I was nothing. I was below them, and they knew it. Chelsey didn’t look at me that way, and I appreciated that about her. “Put me out of my misery, sweet girl.” I covered my heart as if it hurt. “Let me take you out.” Her lips twitched with a tiny smile, and I knew I had her. She sighed as if she was aggravated, and looked up at the sky in contemplation. “Fine.” And just like that, my day went from eh to fucking awesome. “Fine?” I had to make sure we were both on the same page. “Fine. I’ll go out with you. But just once. After that you never make me late again, deal?” My smile hurt my cheeks. “Deal. I’ll pick you up Friday at seven.” “No!” The word burst from her lips a little too loudly. “I mean, I’ll meet you somewhere.” My high died just that quickly. She wanted to hide me. Maybe I was wrong about her. Maybe she was just like the rest of them. I was good enough to take a ride on, but never good enough to be welcomed into their world. I must’ve made a face because she reached out and touched my arm. The warmth from her fingers made my skin tingle. I looked down at her small hand, her unpolished fingernails, and then looked back up her, confused. “My father doesn’t let me go anywhere,” she clarified. “No way would he be okay with me dating. I have to sneak out.” She was being honest. I could see it in her eyes. My mood lightened again and I smiled. “Sneaking out, sweet girl? That’s kind of hot.” Her face dropped and I laughed. “Fine. Meet me here at ten. Is that late enough?”

She nodded. “I can do that.” I walked backward as I moved away from her, my eyes devouring her and making her blush harder. “I’ll see you then, Little Doe.” And then I went into the school feeling as if I’d just won the lottery.





5 CHELSEY “NOT A WORD,” I said to Lynn as I watched Blaine walk away from us. I could feel her knowing grin against the side of my face. I’d given into him, not because he promised to never make me late again, but because I wanted to. I’d deny that until the day I took my last breath, but it was hard to say no to him when he was being so sweet and playful. Especially when the idea of being alone with him made me excited and nervous all at the same time. “Not a peep,” she said, throwing her palms up and laughing. I’d never been on a date before. Hell, I’d only ever been kissed once and that was by him. I knew in my gut that going out with him was a bad idea, but I was so drawn to him —the danger of him—the forbidden aspects. It wasn’t that I was bored with my life. I wasn’t. In fact, I was so busy with school and extracurricular activities I didn’t have time to be bored. But the excitement of him was addictive. I couldn’t deny that. I didn’t see Blaine again for the rest of the day. I figured he’d blown off school since he seemed to do that a lot. He was the regular bad boy through and through. He missed school, had what I was sure were bad grades, and I was positive he did drugs. All things that should’ve pushed me away, but didn’t. I was on a downward spiral, and I was enjoying the ride entirely too much. Over the next few days I put our date on the back burner and focused on school. I had a major project due in one class, and a five page paper due in English. On top of all that, I had a trip to Columbia University coming up soon that my mom arranged for me. Needless to say, Friday crept up fast. I found myself sitting in my room watching the clock beside my bed change time. The red, digital numbers winked at me, taunting me with its never-ending minutes. I gripped my fingers together, my palms sweating, as I thought about spending a night out with Blaine. What if he tried to kiss me again? I think I liked the idea of being kissed by him again. Still, I was freaking out. I’d taken my time to quietly get ready in my room. I wore a skirt instead of my jeans, as I’d promised Lynn, and lip-gloss on my lips. I’d even ran a tiny bit of mascara over my lashes.

At nine, I crept out of my room, past my parent’s bedroom door, and snuck down the stairs. My heart was beating so hard. All I could think about was my dad catching me. I wasn’t sure what he’d do if he caught me sneaking out, but I knew it wouldn’t be good. Opening the front door, I slipped out and quietly shut the door behind me. Once I was free, I leapt down the steps and ran. I didn’t have a car, and while I wasn’t above sneaking out, taking my parent’s car wasn’t something I could bring myself to do. The school was only a mile away, and I knew I could get there before ten. I jogged, my shoes smacking on the highway in a steady rhythm. I wasn’t an athletic girl, and already tiny drips of sweat worked their way down my back. Attractive, not so much. Next time I’d be sure to make arrangements to have Lynn out front waiting on me. Next time? Was there even going to be a next time? I got to the school with five minutes to spare. Opening my purse, I pulled out my tiny mirror and checked to make sure I wasn’t a hot, sweaty mess. Once I gave myself a once over, I sat on the steps of the school in the pitch black and waited for Blaine. When ten o’clock came, Blaine didn’t. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but it was hard not to. I sat around feeling like a total idiot until eleven. By then my legs were cold and the darkness around me had gotten way too thick. Standing, I brushed off my bottom, and started the trek back home. I should’ve known better. I was a total fool, and the worst part was I knew. I knew I was a joke to him. He was being too playful—too sweet. I bet he was somewhere with his friends getting a good laugh at me. The girl he stood up. The girl who snuck out for him. The girl who sat and waited for him in the cold for an hour. It was funny. Even I had a little chuckle to myself just thinking about how funny it was. It was damn hilarious that I’d let my guard down even once. That I’d spent one night not thinking about school and everything that needed to be done before I went off to college. Never again. It was a lapse in judgment that would never happen again. I’d learned my lesson. I wasn’t that girl. Maybe once I was done with school and taking care of patients, I’d take some time out to be that girl. But until then, boys were off my list. Hurt and anger burned my eyes, but over my dead body would I let some stupid jerk make me cry. He wasn’t worth it. Who cared if he was tall and beautiful? Who cared if his skin was the color of caramel, and I freaking loved caramel?

Not me. Nope. I didn’t care. He wasn’t worth it. I walked twenty feet before I realized I forgot my purse on the steps. I chewed on the inside of my lip. I was tempted to leave it there, when I remembered my ID and the twenty dollar bill I shoved in there before I left the house. I speed walked back to the steps, stopping and looking behind me when I heard something off in the distance. I couldn’t see anything or anyone, but that didn’t make me feel better. Turning back around, I took off toward my purse once more, and ran face first into something hard. I held on for dear life, praying I wasn’t about to be murdered. My fingers dug into firm, warm flesh, and on impulse, I squeezed. My eyes easily found his in the dark, and his expression was all it took to melt everything I was feeling. The anger and hurt didn’t seem to matter because he was there now. My inner self called me an idiot. After all, he left me sitting on the steps of the school in the dark alone for over an hour. I found it strange that he appeared as soon as I left. I hadn’t wanted to believe I was a joke to him, but obviously I was. I backed away from him like he suddenly turned into a snake—a snake that was promising me the most delicious kind of sin with just one bite from his forbidden apple. My eyes moved over his dark form, before landing on my purse in his hand. I glared at him and lunged for it. He was faster than me, and moved it out of my reach. “Give me my purse,” I bit out angrily. “I know you’re angry, Chelsey, but just listen to me.” I shook my head. “You’re wrong. You don’t know anything about me. I’m not angry. I just want my purse back so I can go home.” He sighed loudly into the night air. A puff of heated breath floated from his thick lips as a white cloud between us. “Not until you listen to me. Let me explain.” “You don’t need to explain anything. I don’t care. You know what else I don’t care about?” I hissed. “I don’t care that you think I’m a joke. I don’t care that you’re a jerk for playing cruel jokes on me so you can laugh about it with all your girlfriends. And I definitely don’t care to ever see you again. Now give me my purse so I can leave.” I lunged for it again, but this time he didn’t move it away. His arm slipped around my waist and he pulled me against him. The breath was stolen from me, and his face was inches from mine. He smelled like cool mint, and I could taste him on my lips as his breath warmed them. It made me angrier that I wanted to taste more of him. His eyes were a stormy blue when mine found his, and they burned into me as he looked down at me heatedly.

“Are you done?” he snapped. His anger only fueled mine. What exactly did he have to be angry about? “Good,” he continued before I answered. “Now, let’s get a couple of things straight, okay?” “I told you—” I started. He pulled me tighter against his body, and I felt his hardness pressing into my thigh. I froze. I’d never been so close to anyone, and I’d definitely never had anyone poke me with their desire. I couldn’t decide if I should be flattered or pissed off. One thing was for sure, it was enough to silence me, which was exactly what he wanted. I felt every hard curve of his body, and without my consent, my body craved more. I didn’t know what more it could possibly want, but need burned the pit of my stomach, and the sensitive spot between my thighs throbbed. His voice was tight when he finally spoke. “First of all, I don’t have a girlfriend or girlfriends. I never have. Secondly, I don’t think you’re a joke. I didn’t ask you out to make fun of you. I asked you out because I wanted to take you out. Period. End of subject.” He shook his head and sighed. “Was I late? Yes. I was about fifteen minutes late.” I opened my mouth to call him a damn liar, but the warning in his eyes made the accusation melt away on my tongue. My eyes dropped to his lips briefly before I looked away, my face flaming. “I’ve been waiting for you for the last forty-five minutes, Chelsey. I’ve just been on the wrong side of the fucking school,” he finished. My body went limp against his, as I searched his eyes for the truth. All I found was an intensity that took my breath away. I had no idea if he was telling the truth or not, but everything inside of me was screaming to believe him. “You were waiting on the wrong side of the school?” I asked, accusation thick in my voice. “Yes,” he answered. “It never occurred to me that you might be over here. I was too pissed thinking you stood me up to think of anything else. Now, I’m just pissed at myself for not thinking of walking the whole school thirty minutes ago.” He hadn’t stopped to take a breath, and the whole time he talked I just stared at him feeling my chest expand with relief, happiness, and more excitement. I pushed away from him and he let me go freely. “I refuse to be the butt of anyone’s joke, Blaine. Just because you look—” I moved my hand up and down the length of his body. “The way you look, doesn’t mean you can treat me like—” He stepped closer, and my sentence and resolve halted as I stared up at him.

“I don’t think of you as a joke, Little Doe.” A strange emotion flickered in his blue eyes. “Do you think us going out together is a joke?” he asked. I expected to see the usual smartass smirk on his face, but it wasn’t there. Instead, insecurity moved into his expression. It never occurred to me that Blaine might have any doubts about what we were doing. He always seemed so cool and collected. He was always so sure of himself. I smiled. It was nice to see this side of him—the side where he wasn’t completely closed off. His eyes moved over my face, and his perfectly shaped brows pulled down in confusion. “I don’t know what that smile means, Little Doe.” “No,” I finally said. “No?” “I don’t think anything’s a joke, Blaine.” “Good.” It was his turn to smile. I let him think I didn’t notice his slight exhale. He’d been holding his breath. It made me feel special that I seemed important to him in some way. Especially since deep down, I knew no girl had ever been special to Blaine. He was a first for me. My first kiss. My first date. But I was starting to think I was a first for him, as well. “Can we still go out? I know it’s late, but—” I was nodding my head before he could finish, and his grin stretched across his handsome face. “What would you like to do?” he asked. I frowned. I had no idea how to answer his question. “Um… I don’t know. What do you usually do on dates?” “I don’t date, so I don’t have a usual. And even if I did, I wouldn’t do the same thing with you.” Heat warmed my cheeks. “Why not?” He shrugged. “Because you’re different.” “Well, I’ve never been on a date before,” I confessed. His eyes widened. “Never?” “Nope. You’re my first official date.” “Was I your first kiss, too?” The side of his lips lifted into the grin I was slowly starting to love.

I wasn’t sure how he knew he was my first kiss. The only conclusion I came to was I sucked at kissing, but still, I nodded my answer and looked away embarrassed. His fingers caressed my chin as he turned my face toward his. His pale, blue eyes went dark. “I want to be your first for a lot of things.” He smoothed the hair beside my cheek down, and tucked it sweetly behind my ear. His words made me blush. Heat moved over my cheeks and down my neck. I swallowed hard before I found my voice. “Well, technically you stole the kiss and bartered for this date,” I pointed out, ignoring the idea of giving him my virginity. He only grinned bigger. “Don’t expect it to always be like that. From this point on, I’ll only take what you freely give.” Heat warmed the pit of my stomach and my reaction scared me. I steered our conversation back on track. “I’m trying to decide how I should feel that you don’t have a plan for tonight.” He chuckled as he threw his hands up. “Hey, I thought I was being a gentleman by letting you decide.” I looked at him doubtfully. “You? A gentleman?” “You don’t think it’s possible? Or are you saying you like it when I play the bad boy?” “Is that all it is? A part you play?” “Maybe some of it, but most of it’s written in my DNA. What can I say? I’m a tiger who can’t lose his stripes.” Again, he ran his fingers through my hair, his knuckle brushing my cheek. “So what’ll it be, Little Doe? Do you want a normal teenage date or do you want an adventure?” He smirked down at me, daring me with his eyes to do something adventurous. I bit my lip. An adventure with Blaine sounded illicit and dangerous. It was unknown and everything I usually stayed far away from. My heart was beating hard with a steady cadence as something only Blaine could give me flowed through my system. Excitement. Exhilaration. Anticipation. Before I could change my mind, I asked. “What exactly did you have in mind on this adventure?”



6 BLAINE “COME ON, LITTLE DOE. I don’t feel like getting arrested tonight,” I joked. I turned and waited as she moved up the cracked, concrete steps. She held her arms out to her side like she was walking a tight rope and minutes away from falling. Shaking my head, I chuckled. She looked up with wide eyes and paused on the step down from me. “Wait, what? Why would we get arrested?” Reaching out for her hand, I tugged her up and into my arms. She tensed when her sweet body melded with mine. Smoothing out the hair beside her cheek, I grinned down at her. I couldn’t get enough of her—couldn’t keep my hands to myself. “Because a lot of people frown upon breaking and entering.” Her brow lifted and her eyes narrowed playfully. “A lot of people? How about everyone frowns upon it. I’m thinking it has something to do with the fact that it’s illegal.” Again, I chuckled. She was so fucking sweet. “It’s all about perception, baby,” I said, pulling her along as I turned toward the door. She tugged on my hand, prompting me to wait. “And how exactly do you perceive this situation?” She was getting nervous. Obviously, she’d never stepped outside the limits of her dull life. Still, I didn’t miss the spark of excitement in her big, brown eyes. Leaning down and taking a deep pull of her intoxicating scent, I ran my nose across the smooth skin of her cheek before I whispered in her ear. “It’s not illegal if we don’t get caught.” Her breath was shaky. “Blaine,” she whimpered nervously as she bit her bottom lip. I had a love hate reaction when she said my name, and especially when she said it like that. I loved the way it sounded on her lips, but I hated the way it instantly made me want to do things to her I was sure would make her entire body blush.

Not to mention, she was always biting her lip. That shit drove me fucking insane. I wanted to lick the spot on her lip and suck it. “Don’t worry, sweet girl. I haven’t been caught yet.” “That doesn’t exactly make me feel better about this.” I laughed, but a small part of me, the part of me I usually ignored, made me wonder if I was going all about this date the wrong way. Chelsey was so sweet and innocent. And while I wanted to completely taint her tight and tempting body, I didn’t want to be the one to stain her perfect record. I was considering taking her home and taking her on a real date another time. A date where we didn’t have to hold our breath every time we heard a noise, or look over our shoulder to make sure no one saw us. But then I lit the candle I left in the middle of the room the last time I was there, and her breath caught as the space around us turned into an orange hue. I blocked out everything, but her reaction. Her expression filled with disbelief, like she couldn’t believe I’d known such a place existed. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. “Blaine,” she said breathlessly. “This is amazing.” I stood to the side and watched as she spun in a circle to capture the entire room. I knew she’d love it. I don’t know how I knew, I just knew. I mean, it only made sense to take her there. Where do you take a girl who loves books? A library. Her smile was bright and beautiful—her eyes glazed over in happiness—and something happened in that moment. Something I couldn’t put into words. Something so thick I could almost reach out and touch it. My lips lifted into a genuine smile. I seemed to have an endless supply of those where Chelsey was concerned. “You like it?” I asked. She turned, her hair flinging around her face and her eyes landing on me. The candlelight flickered across her flushed face, and I knew in that moment I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life. “I love it. How did you find this place?” “Me and my boys kind of stumbled upon it a few years back and I kept coming back on my own. I can think here.” My eyes flittered around the massive room. Old shelves lined the walls full of books covered in dust. Old statues stared down at us, and cobwebs danced in the air coming in through the cracked walls. The place looked haunted and long forgotten, but even I knew a chain on the door meant stay out. She moved closer to me, looking up at me from under thick, dark lashes, and breathing became difficult.

“What do you think about?” I shrugged. “Different things.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and lifted my shoulders. I wasn’t used to talking about personal things with anyone—not even my parents. They loved me and they wanted the best for me, but I don’t think they thought I was capable of taking anything seriously. I could feel Chelsey watching me out of the corner of my eye, and I was curious as hell to know what she was thinking. I wanted to know what she saw when she looked at me. I never wanted to mean something to someone so badly in my life. Her opinion of me mattered. I couldn’t explain it, but she was different—she was wise beyond our years. The way she looked at me made me feel like she could see the part of me I never let anyone else see. “Didn’t your mother tell you it’s not polite to stare?” I grinned over at her, and her eyes moved away from my face like she wasn’t staring at me. She nervously worried her bottom lip making me want to lick where her teeth were digging. Then she turned back to me and lifted her brow with a smirk. “Didn’t your mom tell you it’s illegal to break and enter?” she countered. Perfection. That’s what she was. I’d never met anyone like her. So smart. So sweet. The urge to pull her to me and kiss her was taking over. I moved closer and reached out for her hand. She didn’t pull away as I softly plucked at each of her fingers. “Chelsey,” I whispered her name into the glowing space around us. She swallowed her nerves, her throat working up and down and begging to be kissed. “Yeah?” “I want to kiss you again.” Again, she nibbled her bottom lip and I had to hold back the growl that was working its way up my throat. “You do?” she asked. I nodded and moved even closer. “But I figured I should probably ask first this time considering your reaction that last time.” I watched her expression hoping she wanted to kiss me again, too. She looked up at me through her thick lashes and her big, brown eyes gave me my answer, but I needed to hear her say it. “Was that you asking?” she asked. “No, this is me asking.” I moved in closer, my chest brushing hers. She took a step back, pressing herself into

the wall of books behind her. I leaned into her, closing my eyes and leaning my forehead against hers. Her heartbeat banged against my own chest, and her sweet breath rushed against my lips. “Can I kiss you, Chelsey?” She leaned back and swallowed hard before she nodded her answer. “I need to hear you say yes, Little Doe.” She surprised me when she whispered, “Kiss me, Blaine.” I wasn’t about to wait for her to change her mind. I cupped her flushed cheeks, lifting her head until my lips found hers. She sighed, melting against me, and the soft growl that formed in the back of my throat moved past my lips. The second our lips touched I knew it wasn’t going to be enough. It would never be enough. I was always going to want more. More of her lips, more of her sighs—more of her. I let myself explore further, and my tongue traced the seam of her lips. I felt the shift in her body, and I took advantage of her tiny gasp. Moving my tongue into her parted lips, I tasted her. Her flavor rolled across my tongue, and I moaned at the sweetness of her. She met my tongue, her inexperience showing and driving me completely insane with want. I was the first, and I wanted to be all her firsts. I pressed against her firmly, needing to feel her body against mine from top to bottom. My cock hardened, and I knew if I didn’t put space between us she’d feel it against her. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her off. “What the—? How the hell did you kids get in here?” The angry growl and the bright light of a flashlight suddenly shining in our faces was unexpected. I pulled away from Chelsey in time to see a pissed off police officer charging toward us. Instinct took over and before I could think about the right and wrong ways to handle the situation, I was grabbing Chelsey’s hand and pulling her with me. The cop was quick, but we were quicker, and I managed to keep some distance between him and us. My only concern was getting Chelsey out of the building so she could get away. “Stop!” the officer yelled behind us, and I looked back to see how far behind he was. “Blaine!” Chelsey’s terrified scream sucked the air from my body. She came to a halt, yanking my hand with her as we came face to face with a second police officer. There was no other chance of escaping. We were fucked.





7 BLAINE I FELT LIKE A PIECE OF SHIT. There was no other way for me to feel as I watched the douchebag cop place the handcuffs around Chelsey’s delicate wrists. Anger swelled up inside my chest as he roughly shoved her into the back of the cop car next to me. Not that she’d care at that point, but I was fucking proud of her for not crying. Especially since it looked like that was all she wanted to do. She didn’t say a word, nor did she look at me, as the cop walked away and left us alone in the back of the car. “I’m so sorry, Chelsey. I never should’ve brought you here.” She didn’t say anything at first, and then she lifted her head and looked out the window. “I’m a big girl, Blaine. I knew the consequences if we got caught. It’s not your fault.” “Look at me and say that.” I needed to see her eyes and sweet smile. I needed her to look at me and then I could breathe. She took a deep breath and looked over at me. Our eyes found each other in the dark, and just like that, she made the earth spin again. “I promise I’m not mad at you,” she said. Part of me wanted her to be angry. I knew in the back of my mind I deserved her anger, but then again, I was angry enough for the both of us. “Don’t worry. I’m pissed enough at myself,” I muttered. And then another thought came to me. “Shit! This’ll go on your record.” “No it won’t.” She was talking to the window, her breath leaving a warm print on the cool glass. “What do you mean?” “That officer.” She pointed out the window. “His name is David Jennings. He’s a friend of my father’s.” “Fuck,” I hissed. There was no getting around her parents finding out now.

“Yep.” She let out a deep breath. “My thoughts exactly.” “I’ll tell them I forced you to do it.” Her head snapped around, her eyes narrowing. “No you won’t, Blaine. I chose to come with you, and that’s exactly what I’m going to tell them. I told you, I’m a big girl. I don’t need you to protect me.” “Maybe not, but you definitely need someone to protect you from me.” Her face puckered and her brows dipped in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Before I could respond, the doors opened and the two officers slid into the front seat of the car. The driver started up the engine and then turned to look back at us. “I called your parents, Chelsey.” He spoke to only her. “They’re going to meet us at the police station to take you home.” “What about Blaine?” she asked. If she had any fear that her parents were going to be there waiting for us, she didn’t show any. He cleared his throat and frowned. “Well, this isn’t Mr. Wesley’s first time breaking and entering. Is it Mr. Wesley?” Instead of answering, I turned and looked at the window as the old Library building disappeared behind us. “So, what does that mean?” she rushed on as if she was afraid I was about to tell him to fuck off. “He might do some actual time—maybe some probation or community service. House arrest might be good for him. And he’s looking at a brand new adult criminal record.” “You can’t see me, but I’m flipping you off,” I said with a cynical grin. “Blaine,” Chelsey hissed in warning. “I’d listen to your girlfriend, Mr. Wesley. You’re on thin ice.” “I’m not his girlfriend.” Chelsey was quick to correct him. I don’t know why, but it bugged me that she corrected him. I couldn’t blame her for wanting them to think we weren’t together. I guess technically we weren’t, and it was obvious anything happening between Chelsey and I wasn’t a great idea. It had only been one night with me and already she was sitting in the back of a cop car and being hauled off in handcuffs. The ride back to the police station was long. I watched Chelsey like a hawk, but not once did I expect her to break down in a fit over everything that happened. She already proved she was tougher than I gave her credit for. I admired the fact that Chelsey seemed to have it all figured out. She knew what she

wanted for her future and she was hell bent on getting it. I, on the other hand, had no fucking clue what I was doing with my life. When we took a sharp turn, I was pushed into Chelsey. Our bodies aligned side by side and her body heat warmed me through my clothes. “Am I squishing you?” I whispered. Between the non-stop chatter over the police radio and loud conversation between officer douchebag one and officer douchebag two, I knew they weren’t paying us any attention. “Only a little,” she responded. I hated that I couldn’t push her hair back to see her face. “I could move over, but I kind of don’t want to.” “You’re enjoying this way more than you should be,” she scolded. “The ride to the police station, not so much. But being this close to you? Hell yeah I’m enjoying it.” Her elbow connected with my side softly, but despite her veil of hair, I knew I’d made her smile. I looked up and did a double take when I realized we were driving through a residential area. “What the hell?” I said for only Chelsey to hear. “What?” She looked up alarmed. Her eyes widened, and whether she realized it or not, her body moved into mine like she was searching for shelter from whatever seemed to put her on edge. “This isn’t the way to the police station,” I said. “That’s because we’re not going to the police station,” she murmured. “What?” I frowned in confusion. “How do you know that?” “Because that’s my house.” She swallowed. “And there’s my mother.” She groaned when the car pulled up to one of the biggest houses I’d ever seen. The house had columns like the fucking White House. I’m talking presidential shit. I was waiting for a helicopter to circle overhead and the secret service to usher Chelsey into the house. The car went around the circled driveway, which was perfectly manicured. Box-shaped bushes hedged the drive, and flowerbeds of purple flowers lined the large front porch. A lady dressed in a silk robe was standing on the front porch glaring at the car as it parked. My eyes moved around taking in the richness of Chelsey’s life—the expensive cars parked in the drive, and the massive pineapple fountain in the center of her landscaped yard. I figured Chelsey and her family had money, but I didn’t realize exactly how much.

Suddenly, I didn’t feel good enough to even be sitting next to her, let alone going out with her. My shitty life and crappy, brick house didn’t even belong in the same state as Chelsey’s life and home. “You’re really slumming it with me aren’t you?” I shook my head as I looked out the window at a life I’d never be able to achieve. “Trying to piss your parents off by going out with me, Little Doe?” Her head snapped in my direction and she looked at me like I just slapped her. “What?” “I’m not exactly in your social circle. When rich chicks like you are looking to piss off Daddy it’s usually with fuck-ups like me.” She pinched her lips together, and for the first time since we were caught, tears shined in her eyes. I felt like the true asshole I was. “You’re a jerk, Blaine Wesley.” She turned away, pushing herself into the door as much as she could. Because I was indeed what she said I was, I didn’t bother to move away from her or try to correct her. “And don’t you forget it,” I said into the silence of the car. Neither of us noticed the officer beside her door, so when he opened it Chelsey nearly fell out. “Change of plans, princess,” he said to Chelsey as he un-cuffed her. “This is where you two lovebirds part ways.” There was a look of fear in Chelsey’s brown eyes that hadn’t been there earlier, and I realized as he pulled her from the car that the fear she had was for me and not herself. As quickly as the fear appeared, it was gone. She turned away and a strange feeling I didn’t understand expanded in my chest making me feel as if I was suffocating. She rubbed her wrists as he took her arm and moved her around the car and up the stairs to where her mother waited. I kept my eyes on her the entire way, silently wishing she’d look at me, but she never did. Her mother’s glare cut to me and I waited for the window to shatter under her gaze. She looked at me with pure disgust in her eyes while the expression on her face managed to show nothing at all. Only those who saw that look before would recognize and understand it. I was nothing to her. Nothing. Chelsey walked up the concrete stairs and stood in front of the prim and proper woman. Her eyes left mine and settled on her daughter. “What have you gotten yourself into, Chelsey?” I heard her mother say through the

small opening in the front window of the car. “What the hell were you thinking? Sneaking out? Breaking and entering with that trashy boy?” She motioned toward the car I was sitting in. “You’re better than that. You’re better than him, Chelsey Ford. Did he force you to go?” Chelsey stiffened at the harsh words being said about me, and as much as I told myself I didn’t give two fucks what her mother said, I knew there was a small part of me that did. “His name’s Blaine Wesley, Mother, and he isn’t trash. I wasn’t forced into anything. I went because I wanted to.” Then her eyes flickered toward the car and I knew she was worried I could hear their conversation. “Can we please finish this inside?” There was no life in Chelsey voice as she spoke to her mother. She seemed defeated and deflated. I wanted to kick my own ass for being the one to do that to her. “I refuse to believe that,” her mother went on, ignoring her request. “You’ve always been a good girl. This isn’t you, Chelsey. Your father would be devastated.” I thought I saw Chelsey flinch, but I couldn’t be sure. She probably hated disappointing her parents. “Where is he?” Chelsey’s voice broke. “He had to stay in Atlanta tonight and it’s good thing, too. You’re never to see that boy again, do you hear me?” She pinched Chelsey’s cheeks between her perfectly painted fingers, forcing her to look at her. Anger shot through my body, and I moved closer to the door. I wanted to get out. I wanted to rip her hands from Chelsey’s soft skin. “Do we really have to stand out here to have this conversation, Mother? What will the neighbors think?” I heard the sarcasm in her voice, and by the look on her mother’s face, so did she. “Thank you, Officer Jennings.” Her mother turned an icy smile toward the cop. “Of course, Mrs. Ford. I’m just glad I was the one to be there tonight.” “As am I. And I can assure you this will never happen again.” They said their goodbyes, and then we were pulling off. Chelsey was wrapped in her mother’s arms as she moved toward the front door. I could only imagine the fucked up shit her mother was probably saying to her. I silently begged Chelsey to turn around and look at me, but she never did. I couldn’t blame her. After all, she was so much better than me. I must’ve been out of my fucking mind to think I could fit into Chelsey’s world. It was more than the fact that she was too good for me. She deserved better than me. She worked hard and wanted more for her life than I could ever give her. She had plans, a goal, a future, and I sure as hell wouldn’t be the one to take any of that away from her. I’d do what I should’ve done from the beginning. I’d stop ignoring

who I was and who she was, and I’d leave her the fuck alone.



8 CHELSEY I COULDN’T SLEEP. I tried. I counted sheep, and said the alphabet backward in my head over and over again, but it was no use. I told myself it was a combination of the adrenaline, fear, and excitement from the events of my night out with Blaine. Although, I was partly in denial over the excitement I felt from our night together. Honestly, I couldn’t sleep because I kept running Blaine’s harsh words through my mind. His words hurt, and that made me angry. I wanted to slap him again. I wanted to feel his cheek sting my palm, and hear his shocked gasp. Had I not been handcuffed in the back of a police cruiser, I would’ve slapped him. How dare he accuse me of slumming it! I didn’t slum. Hell, I didn’t even know what it meant to slum. I wasn’t slumming it, nor was I using him to piss anyone off. My parents were strict. Very strict. But that was because they wanted the best for me. Even if we didn’t always agree on what was best for me, in the end, we had the same goal. Columbia. Turning on my side, I jerked at my blankets in annoyance, untucking them from the bottom of the bed. Our maid, Shirley, always tucked them so damn tight, and in my mind pulling them loose was my way of defying our rich lifestyle. I flopped over onto my back and slung my arm over my head. My eyes settled on the ceiling fan above my bed, and I couldn’t help but feel like the constant turn of the fan was somehow signifying how crazy my life was turning out to be. I’d never been so embarrassed of my mother and the things she said. Her uppity ways and her snobbish treatment of those she considered beneath us sickened me. I strived to never be like my parents when it came to the way they treated people. As far as I was concerned, everyone was on the same playing field. It was how you decided to play your game that really mattered. Still, her argument continued to rush through my mind—the terrible things she said

making me flinch. I wasn’t sure if Blaine heard her obnoxious words, but my gut told me he had. It infuriated me that her ignorance probably only made him believe his asinine comments even more. I made an irritated sound and pounded the bed with my fist. I’d never been someone prone to aggression, but I wanted to hit something and my overly soft, expensive mattress wasn’t doing the trick. I knew there was only one way I was going to feel better about the situation. I’d find Blaine at school, I’d apologize for my mother, and then I’d set him straight. Once I was done with that, I’d stay as far away from Blaine Wesley as I could. He was bad for me. Not because of our night together or because of the vicious things my mother said, but because he was the kind of boy who could flip my world upside down. Something told me if I didn’t keep my distance, Blaine Wesley would do just that. I couldn’t decide if having my world flipped upside down sounded terrible, or like the most exciting thing that could ever happen to me. That in itself scared me.

********** I DIDN’T SEE BLAINE ALL DAY. It wasn’t until I was leaving my final class that I saw him tossing his books into a locker down the hall a bit from me. Steeling my shoulders, I pushed through the crowded hallway with purpose. I was going to say exactly what I was thinking. I was going to set him straight and move on. Period. At least that’s what I wanted to do. But the minute he turned those soft, blue eyes my way, my resolve faded. “What a surprise,” he said sarcastically, turning his attention back to the inside of his locker. I swallowed hard. “We need to talk.” My words came out a little too harsh. “Then talk.” It angered me that he couldn’t even turn my way. I wanted his eyes on me when I said what I needed to say. I wanted to see the expression on his face. Would I see relief? Would I see sadness? His expression mattered and it really shouldn’t have. “First of all, I’m sorry about my mother,” I started.

He nodded. “Just forget about it. I have.” He was being so indifferent toward me. I hated it. “And about our date.” My voice cracked and I had to clear my throat. “Maybe it’s better if we just try to be friends,” I offered. He turned his attention on me and his lack of expression frustrated me. There was nothing. No sign at all of whether or not my words affected him. I wanted him to be affected. I was affected and it was only fair. And then he turned away and chuckled softly to himself as if he couldn’t care less about whether or not we were even friends. “That’s funny. I was almost thinking the same thing.” He slammed his locker shut and I jumped. His words burned in my chest. “Almost?” I hid my hurt from him. I secretly hoped he was going to disagree with me and insist we try again. I kind of wanted to try again—have another exciting night out with Blaine, if not more, but he didn’t even hesitate. He was totally okay with nothing else happening between us. Because of that, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing I was upset—of knowing I wanted more. Especially not when I was the one who started our conversation out so adamant about us just being friends. “Yeah. Almost. Except I was thinking that we should just call it quits now. There’s no point in pretending this is something it’s not or ever going to be. Neither of us do the whole dating thing. And I’m pretty sure you’re not up for the only thing I’m offering.” Confusion moved over me. “And what exactly are you offering?” His eyes widened at my ignorance before he took a step closer to me. His icy eyes devoured me, leaving me feeling naked in a hallway full of students. “If you have to ask, then you’re definitely not up for it.” His smirk was scornful—rude and condescending. And then I understood. I swallowed hard as images of Blaine naked flashed in my mind. I could only imagine how hard his body would be—the way his muscles would feel flexing beneath my fingers —the sounds he’d make in a moment of passion. The images rushed through brain forcing a blush that moved to the roots of my hair. His eyes moved over my flushed skin and his smirk turned into a knowing grin I had to turn away from. He chuckled sarcastically. “Yeah. I didn’t think so.” He reached out and ran a finger down my heated cheek, making me close my eyes to the sensation. And then he shattered the moment of sweetness with his words. “Some might think your flushed cheeks are

sweet, but I make it a rule to never fuck girls who blush just thinking about sex. I need a girl who knows what she’s doing, Chelsey—a girl who can handle me.” His words pushed pain into my chest and angered me. I wanted to retaliate. I wanted to wound him the way he was wounding me. There was no way I’d give him the satisfaction of seeing me break down. Instead, I mirrored his smirk with a sneer of my own and lifted my chin slightly. “You know what, Blaine, you’re right. I’m definitely not your type. And I think it’s safe to say you’re not mine, either. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I shook my head and tightened my lips. “Besides, high school will be over before you know it and we’ll be going our separate ways anyway. I don’t have time for any unnecessary distractions.” I kept my guard up, hiding the discomfort of the pain and nerves in my stomach. His eyes moved over my face like he was waiting for me to crack. And then he shrugged. “Okay, then it’s settled. We’re not going to waste each other’s time.” I swallowed the hurt and nodded. “Yep.” I agreed. “And thanks again, Blaine.” His eyes narrowed and confusion set in his brows. “For what?” “For making it perfectly clear who you really are.” I turned on my heel leaving him there with my parting words. After our conversation I was even more confident I made the right decision. If I never had to see, talk to, or be alone with Blaine Wesley again, I’d be happy.



9 CHELSEY ONE MONTH LATER “THIS HAS TO BE SOME KIND OF MISTAKE,” I shrilled. The test paper in my hand felt like a block of cement. The red writing across the top was like a stab to the gut. I’d never held something so heartbreaking in all my life. I turned to look at Lynn like she had some kind of explanation for me. She didn’t. Instead she shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sure it is, Chelsey. You’ve never made a bad grade. I wouldn’t stress it.” While I knew she was trying to comfort me, her words brought little relief. I dropped my head against my desk and closed my eyes, keeping the tears from spilling over. The top of my desk felt cool against my fevered skin so I flipped my head resting my other hot cheek against the coolness. When I opened my eyes again, my tears pushed past my lashes blurring the big, red D on my paper. Just looking at it made me feel sick to my stomach, and I had to take small gulps of air to keep from losing my lunch. Failing a test was unthinkable. High school was almost over. That meant I had no room left for distractions or D’s. Bad grades was foreign territory for me. I couldn’t remember a time in my life when I received anything less than a B in any class. And the one time I did get a B I went into a dark depression. That was seventh grade. It was a hormonal time. My parents were going to freak, and I wasn’t in the mood to listen to them lecture me again. For the past month they found it necessary to preach to me until they were blue in the face about my future and how important everything I was working toward was. Newsflash, parental units! I know the importance of my future. I’ve only been planning it for my entire life! They acted like I wasn’t aware of the real reason behind their sudden sermons—like I wasn’t aware of how anti-Blaine they were. Instead, they pretended it was because the end

of year was coming and they wanted to make sure I stayed focused. And by focused they meant less boys and more books—they meant no more Blaine Wesley. My heart skipped a beat at the simple thought of his name. I hadn’t spoken to him since the day in the hall almost a month ago to the day. Not that I was counting or anything. Not that I was marking the calendar, scratching out the days I didn’t see him in school with disdain. I totally wasn’t. At least that’s what I’d say if anyone asked. Although, I could admit to myself that a small part of me missed him. Which was weird considering he was never a massive part of my life. One night of pure excitement and the best kiss of my life so far was all he gave me. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less. I felt like an idiot for missing him. I didn’t want to. In fact, I tried hard to never think of him. But no matter what, he was always in the back of my mind. My only distraction, and also the reason behind the big, red D on my test paper. The really crappy part was I’d heard through the grapevine that he was slammed with a ton of community service for his breaking and entering charges. Meanwhile, nothing at all happened to me. Well, nothing other than a few more rules at home to deal with. I guess who you knew really mattered. Money talked and bullshit walked. Everyone with money knew that rule, and I was slowly realizing that my parents did a lot of talking with their bank accounts. I guess community service was better than jail time. Blaine was eighteen, there would be no more juvenile detention for him, and there would be no more slaps on the wrist. From here on out, everything went on his record and prison was a very real possibility. Hopefully, he realized that. Knowing our night together wasn’t the first time he’d broken into the old library didn’t matter. I still felt like crap knowing he was being punished for doing something ridiculously sweet for me. An old abandoned library—he couldn’t have chosen a better place. It truly was beautiful. “Hello? Earth to Chelsey!” Lynn poked my side with her pencil. I felt the sting of her pencil before I heard Lynn’s voice break through my thoughts. I blinked and lifted my head. “I’m sorry. What?” I asked. “Did you just take a nap?” She giggled. I pinched my lips and narrowed my eyes. “No, Lynn. Not everyone sleeps through all their classes,” I snapped. It was wrong to be so snippy with her, but I’d been that way for the last month and he was to blame. He was the jerk I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about. Basically, he sucked. A lot.

I gathered my papers and textbook and shoved them into my bag. I’d moved on from denial and reached the angry stage. I couldn’t settle for a D. I’d go down fighting for my GPA. “I have to talk to, Mr. Liam. There has to be something I can do to make up this grade.” The second the words left my mouth I held up my finger to ward off the perverted comment on Lynn’s lips. “Don’t even say it.” I knew Lynn’s sick mind. Therefore, I knew her way of thinking. Sexual favors for good grades. She was thinking it. Plus, I knew for a fact she thought Mr. Liam was a sexy, older man. Yeah, Lynn was that girl. She hid her grin as she pinched her lips together. That was all the verification I needed that she was thinking exactly what I thought she was. Her mind was always in the gutter. No, her mind lived there—had the gutter fully furnished with scented candles. She stood and slipped her backpack over her slim shoulders, before covering my shoulder with a reassuring hand. Her smile was soft when I looked up at her, letting me know she was going into serious mode. “All joking aside, Chelsey. It’s not the end of the world. You’ve busted your ass over the years. I’ve watched as you committed social suicide and became practically invisible to everyone but me and Blaine Wesley.” His name triggered a spark up my spine, and I looked away from her with a frown. I didn’t want her to see how badly his name stung. “I told you that was nothing. We agreed it was better if we just—” “Yeah. I get it.” Her knowing eyes moved over my face and she chuckled. She shook her head and sighed in aggravation. “Well, while you’ve been busy ignoring him and drowning yourself with assignments, he’s been busy watching your every move.” Her words shocked me. I hadn’t seen much of him, and every time I did, he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at every other girl. His eyes stayed on the ones who drooled over him and screwed him with their eyes when they passed him in the halls. He wanted the girls who dressed in sexy clothes and wore too much makeup. Those were the kind of girls who were good for Blaine. Those were the kind he needed. Not me. It was as if he didn’t know I existed anymore. “Yeah right,” I said. “I’m serious, Chels. I don’t think either of you are really committed to leaving the other alone.” She nodded at my tainted test paper. “And that D tells me exactly where your brain’s been lately.” I shook my head. She didn’t know what she was talking about. She wasn’t there when we had our last conversation. She didn’t see the serious look in his eyes when we agreed to leave each other alone. I did. I saw it and I felt it. The burning sensation still flared to life when I saw his face. It was real. It happened.

“I don’t have time for boy drama, Lynn. Blaine Wesley’s nothing but drama.” She sighed. “Maybe a little Blaine Wesley drama is exactly what you need. I’ll see you later.” I didn’t bother to respond as she turned and walked away. There was nothing really for me to say when I knew my argument lacked one major thing… the truth. The truth was going to be the death of me, and I wasn’t sure I could keep hiding it behind my books and casual expressions much longer. Later, I found myself stalking the teacher’s lounge for Mr. Liam on my lunch period. Students passed me in the hall without even noticing me. It was as if I blended in with the neutral, cinderblock walls. Parts of me were sick to death of blending, but I also knew how much I hated attention. I couldn’t change who I was. Not for myself and especially not for a guy. After standing outside the door for what felt like hours, my feet were starting to hurt and my backpack was killing my back. I couldn’t describe the relief I felt when Mr. Liam finally emerged from the teacher’s lounge. It was almost as strong as the relief I felt when he promised to give me an extra credit assignment and asked me to meet him in his classroom later in the day for instructions.



10 BLAINE MR. LIAM SIGHED when I crossed my arms behind my head and stretched, pushing my chair back and lifting my legs to rest my feet on the desk in front of me. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to hear his lectures. Not to mention, I had the last bit of my community service to finish up. I was wasting valuable time. Still, I couldn’t find it in myself to blow Mr. Liam off. There weren’t a lot of teachers who saw through my bullshit. Most of them were lazy or just didn’t care enough to take their job seriously. But he wasn’t one of those teachers. He had no problem putting my ass in line when he thought I needed it. He stood from his desk and walked around to where I sat. Hovering above me, he shook his head and plastered on his disappointed expression before pushing my feet off the desk. I didn’t expect it and I nearly lost my balance when my chair lunged forward and I was thrown into the desk. “Don’t give me that look,” he said, leaning a hip against the edge of his desk. “This is your senior year, Blaine. You’re barely getting by with C’s and D’s. Don’t you want to go to college? Become something of yourself? What do you want to do with your life, Blaine?” His line of questions made me shift uncomfortably in my seat and avoid his demanding stare. “I’m sorry to break this to you, Mr. Liam, but I don’t see myself getting into any college.” “Do you want to go to college?” I shrugged. The truth was I never thought about my future all that much. It wasn’t until I met Chelsey that I even considered a plan for after high school. “I don’t know,” I responded. “Well, I suggest you figure it out.” Mr. Liam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in aggravation. “It’s time to get serious, Blaine. These are all questions you should know the answers to. Graduation will be here before you know it, and you’re going to wish you

hadn’t spent all of high school dicking around.” I looked up at him, surprised by his choice of words. “Are teachers allowed to talk to students like that?” “Nope,” he said, pushing up into a standing position. “But I know you’re no rat.” I grinned. The fucker was right. I wouldn’t do that to him. I wasn’t one to tell on anyone. Never had been. I wasn’t about to start doing it now. I picked at my nail as I tried to put my words together. “The thing is, Mr. Liam, I have no idea what I want to do with my life.” I thought about Chelsey and her goals. I thought about how hard she pushed herself to do well in school. She made it look so easy. “I never thought about college or career choices. I didn’t think all that was in the cards for me.” Mr. Liam’s face softened before he grabbed my shoulder and gave me a shake. “It’s not too late, Blaine. I can help you if you want. We’ll take it one step at a time. Getting your grades up is our first step.” “How?” I asked. It seemed impossible. I’d fucked around too much. My grades were shit and my attendance was even shittier. Before Mr. Liam could answer, his classroom door opened and we both turned our heads toward the door. My heart kicked against my chest and I choked and coughed trying to swallow my next breath. It was Chelsey. The girl I couldn’t stop thinking about. The girl who was making me crazy even from afar. With her plain hair and clear complexion—her pouty lips and those fucking big, brown eyes that were somehow able to see through me. She was perfection. Untouched. Unspoiled by the bullshit around her. And I couldn’t seem to stop when it came to her. It was fucking annoying as hell. She looked flustered as she stood there staring at me. Her skin was flushed and had a pink tint. Her forehead and the skin above her top lip had a slight sheen of sweat like she’d run miles to the classroom. I grinned at her, and her flush deepened. She turned her attention away from me and moved to back out the door. “I’m sorry, Mr. Liam. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She talked fast in her rush to run away from me. “I’ll come back.” “Actually, Chelsey, you have perfect timing. Come sit.” He motioned to the chair next to me. I didn’t take my eyes off her as she walked slowly toward the desk. She didn’t look at me once as she slid into the chair and twisted her fingers nervously in her lap. I had the feeling I was going to like what Mr. Liam had to say next.

“Do the two of you know each other?” “No,” she said. “Yes,” I said. We answered at the same time, and I looked over at Chelsey feeling a spark of annoyance. She threw a quick glance at me and then to Mr. Liam, licking her lips anxiously. “I mean, we’ve met, but I don’t know him,” she corrected herself. Nice save, I thought sourly. “Well, Chelsey, this is Blaine.” Mr. Liam motioned to me. “Blaine, this is the amazing, young lady who’s going to help you raise your grade.” “What?” Chelsey questioned, nearly jumping out of her desk. “Blaine needs the extra credit, as well. You both will work on the assignment together and turn it in at the end of next week.” “But—” She searched for some reason to object, but apparently came up empty handed. Mr. Liam frowned. “Is there a problem, Chelsey? Are you not comfortable working with Blaine?” “No!” she yelped. “It’s not that. I’m fine. It’ll actually be easier with a partner.” Nice save number two. “Great. Let’s just go over the assignment and the two of you can get started.” Twenty minutes later, Chelsey and I walked down an empty hallway toward the exit. Other than the obnoxious squeak of my sneakers on the floor, we were completely silent. She didn’t even look at me, much less speak to me, until we pushed through the doors and were outside. “Was this your idea?” she snapped, picking up her speed. I had no choice but to follow her or be left behind. “Believe me, spending an entire week doing this project with you is the last thing I wanted. But as it turns out, I need the grade and apparently, so do you.” She stopped and turned on me with angry eyes. I couldn’t help but goad her even further. I made a tsking sound and moved my finger back and forth. “A bad grade, Miss Ford? What would your parents think?” I’d officially ruffled her feathers and I was looking forward to smoothing them out. She sighed. “Look, I plan to take this assignment seriously. I need this extra credit, Blaine. I’m a good girl. I can’t have a bad grade.” “And what am I? A screw-up with no future? Someone you’d rather pretend you’ve never met? Like mother like daughter. Right, Princess Chelsey?”

She was practically hissing when her hand came up. I caught her wrist before she could hit me, yanking her to me. She felt right against my body, and I wondered how something that felt so right could be so wrong. I bit back a moan when she moved against me to get free. “Let me go, Blaine.” She sounded fierce despite her small size. I had to give her credit, she knew how to be aggressive toward me. But I was still a part of her mind. She still thought about me, and I was still able to get a response from her. I could see it in her big, brown eyes when she looked up at me. She pushed at my chest and looked away. “This isn’t going to work. I’m going to ask Mr. Liam if we can work separately. I think it’ll be better for both of us.” “Are you that afraid to be alone with me, Chelsey?” Her eyes clashed with mine. “What?” “You are, aren’t you?” I chuckled sardonically. “I just can’t decide if you’re afraid because of your parents or because of yourself.” “My parents have nothing to do with this.” “Don’t they? You seemed to be on your mother’s side the morning after we got arrested.” I spewed the hard, angry words at her. Her eyes widened. “I wasn’t! What my mother said was horrible, Blaine! I never thought those things about you. I apologized for her words. ” “You did, but then in the next breath you said you just wanted to be friends. Like I wasn’t good enough or some shit.” I remembered the day almost a month ago like it was yesterday. I remembered how hurt I felt and how I wanted to hurt her even more than she was hurting me. Her eyes flashed with fire and then she took a calming breath. “Why are you so angry, anyway? You were the one who decided we shouldn’t even be friends. We both agreed, as in you and me, that it was better if we just went our separate ways, remember.” “Of course I remember!” I snapped. “But I didn’t think that meant pretending we’d never even met.” “Forgive me for not knowing the rules of our situation, Blaine.” She sighed in annoyance. I couldn’t blame her for being annoyed. I was being unfair. I was angry at her, but more at myself for letting an entire month go by without talking to her. Of course she wanted nothing to do with me. I’d jerked her around and all because of my stupid pride. “Look, I don’t either. I’ve never been this way with another girl,” I said honestly. She stopped pushing away from me and her body softened in my arms. “What do you mean? You’ve never been like what with another girl?”

“For starters, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” I confessed. I stared her down, unwilling to look away or be ashamed of my words. “Blaine,” she started. I knew her next words were going to be bad so I interrupted her. I had a lot of damage control to do, and I was going to need this week with her. “Listen, I need this extra credit, too. Without it I won’t pass. I don’t want to be just another statistic, Chelsey.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it was as close to the truth as I was going to get. I didn’t want to become her charity case. I wanted to tell her I wanted to spend time with her. I wanted her to tell her I couldn’t care less about passing or graduation or college, but when I was with her, that’s all I seemed to care about. Those things were important to her, and there was a strange ache inside of me begging to be important to her, too. “We can be partners, or friends, or whatever the hell you want. You can call the shots if you help me with this assignment, okay?” I hated that I sounded so desperate. She chewed on the inside of her bottom lip and watched me carefully. As much as I liked her eyes on me, I squirmed a little. She was looking for something, and I didn’t know if she was going to find it. “You promise you’re going to take this seriously?” she asked. “Because I won’t hesitate to take full credit on this if you’re just looking for an easy A.” I let her go and she stepped out of my arms. Instantly, I missed her warmth. “Nothing worth it is ever easy, Chelsey. This is definitely worth it.” I loved seeing the color fill her cheeks and the increase in her breathing when my words affected her. “Okay then. Partners.” She held out her hand and looked up at me, waiting for me to shake it. I moved my fingers against her palm and enjoyed her gasp and the shiver that ran through her body. My fingers closed around her palm and I pulled her to me again. She made a sweet sound as she landed against my chest, and I held in my own moan. “I usually like to seal a deal with a kiss.” I grinned down at her. “But since you’re calling the shots and all.” She licked her lips nervously and my eyes dropped to them. I wanted to pull her bottom lip between my teeth. “Unless.” I moved in. “Friends, Blaine.” She reminded me with a shaky voice and a hand on my chest.

She pulled away from me and put distance between us. “Right. Friends,” I agreed. For now. “We should start right away,” she said. I could tell by the way her eyes moved over my face she was gauging my reaction. “I know the weekend is coming and you probably have big plans, but if we get a head start we might be able to get it done in less than a week.” She knew how much I enjoyed my weekends. She was checking to see how serious I was about the assignment. “The only plans I have is with a cute brunette with big, brown eyes.” I smiled down at her. “Friends don’t talk to each other like that, Blaine. You said you were going to take this seriously.” I stalked up to her, backing her up against the brick siding of the school. Resting my arm above her head, I leaned my body into hers. “Did you think I was talking about you, Little Doe?” I whispered, using the nickname I’d come up with for her. She blushed, and I ran my finger down the curve of her cheek. “And if I was talking about you, what makes you think I’m not being serious?” She swallowed hard. “Because you’re not. You’re teasing me. You like getting me all flustered and confused. Why?” “Because you’re different. You’re sweet, and that sweetness drives me fucking crazy.” She swallowed again before turning her face away from me. “So, you’re okay with starting right away?” she asked, avoiding my words and the obvious way her body was responding to me. I grinned down at her before stepping away and spreading my arms wide. “You’re the boss.” And until I managed to push past the guard I’d forced her to put up, she’d set the pace. I’d endure every second of her sweet torture. She was worth it.



11 CHELSEY IT WAS A LITTLE PAST MIDNIGHT, and there was a strange noise outside my bedroom window. My heart pounded in my throat in fear, and I sat silent as I wanted for the noise to sound again. My parents bought our house a few years before I was born and I grew up there. There were never any issues with sleeping alone in my room. I was never the kind of scary kid who pulled their blanket in their parent’s room and slept on the floor. But when the weird noise sounded throughout my space again, I felt panic. I didn’t believe in the supernatural or ghosts, so I was seriously starting to doubt my sanity. But then it sounded again and my body went tense. I sat up in my bed, holding my weight on my elbows, and held my breath. I listened for the noise again so I could try and pinpoint where it was coming from. I whimpered when I heard it again and a chill ran up my spine as I compared the sound to something or someone scratching outside my window. I stared out through the small opening in the curtains. The moon offered a tiny bit of light, but beyond that was only darkness. I was staring so hard, waiting for some mythical creature to come busting through my window, that when I saw a shadow move in the moonlight, I screamed. The sound hurt my own ears and I clamped my hand over my mouth. There was a brief stretch of silence, and then I heard a muffled voice from the other side of the window. “Are you purposely trying to wake up the entire neighborhood?” Blaine whispered through the window. My heart continued to pound wildly in my chest even after I recognized his voice. I scrambled off the bed and hurried toward the window, lifting it open. “What are you doing?” I hissed, looking back toward my bedroom door. I knew there was no way my scream had gone unheard. It was only a matter of time before my parents came charging into my room. He pushed his head in. “What does it look like?” My expression went slack and my face contorted with confusion as I tried to think

around this entire situation. “What?” I asked, still confused. “Are you going to let me in or not?” He motioned for me to move out of his way. “Not. You scared the crap out of me. You had me thinking my room was haunted.” My rant was cut short as he pushed his way through the window. I couldn’t seem to breathe past the knot in my throat, and then it didn’t matter if I could or not because I was about to be dead. My head turned toward the door where light flooded the hallway, spilling into my room from underneath my bedroom door. “You have to—” I started. But when I turned to face him, he was already gone. My frown deepened as I twisted from side to side looking for Blaine, surprised by his quick disappearing act. “Blaine?” I whispered, chewing on my lip nervously. “Where did you go?” There was a light tap on my door before my father called my name softly from the other side. “Are you okay, honey? We heard you scream.” His voice sounded muffled through the thick wood. Taking a deep breath, I moved toward the door with one last look behind me. My room was still empty. I pulled it open and squinted against the bright, hallway light that spilled into my room. Concern deepened the lines on my father’s aging face as he looked me over and then past me for any harm. “I’m fine, Dad,” I said, sounding breathless. I pulled the door tightly to my side, hoping to block out as much of my room as possible. “We heard you scream.” I laughed nervously. “I thought I saw something outside my window.” He went on high alert, pushing his way into my room and toward my open window. Shit! I wanted to take back my last words, but it was too late. “What did you see?’ he asked frantically. “Did you see a person? Maybe I should call the police.” “No!” I shouted, almost falling forward in my outburst. My father turned around, giving me a strange look. My hands were up in the air and I

dropped them to my sides. My face flamed in embarrassment. “It was a squirrel,” I lied. “Please. I feel silly. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He searched my face for a few seconds, and I managed to smile despite the pounding in my chest. The fact that Blaine was somewhere hidden in my room and my father could easily catch him was causing me to have a panic attack. My father smiled, putting his hands in his robe pockets. “You and your mother were never fans of the dark or anything creepy or crawly. I remember the Halloween when you were eight. You were dressed up as little red riding hood. You declared it your last Halloween because you were too afraid of the spooky costumes.” His smile softened at the memory, and I couldn’t help but return it. “I was a bit dramatic back then. I remember calling a big family meeting.” I chuckled. He laughed along with me. “Ah, yes. You made a pros and cons list that you went over with me and your mother.” I buried my flaming face in my hands knowing Blaine was listening and gathering up ammo against me. “Please, no more,” I complained. My father took a deep breath and his shoulders dropped. He turned his head from side to side, looking at my walls. They were plastered in all things Columbia University. “Now my little girl is all grown up and going to be graduating soon.” Sadness darkened his eyes. “Soon you’ll be leaving to attend Columbia. Time’s moving too fast.” “Oh, Daddy.” I hugged him, laying my face flat against his chest. “I haven’t technically gotten into Columbia yet, you know?” “Yes you have,” he whispered. A few more seconds passed and then he squeezed my shoulders and stepped back. “I’ll let you go back to sleep.” He kissed my forehead and walked toward the door. Before he closed it he called my name and I turned toward him. “You let me know if that squirrel comes back. Okay?” He could hardly contain his smile. “I will.” And then he was gone, shutting out the light with him. I held my breath and didn’t move a muscle as I waited for the hall light to go off. Even when I was sure he was completely gone, I waited. A full two minutes went by before I moved to the door and pulled it open. Looking up and down the hall, I was satisfied that everything was as it should be. Closing the door softly, I turned the lock and leaned against it with a relieved sigh. “So, little red riding hood’s afraid of the big, bad wolf?” Blaine taunted from beside

me. “Please tell me you still have that costume tucked away somewhere? Oh my God, it would be so tight on you now—all hugging your curves and shit.” I turned toward his voice to find him lying on my bed with his arms folded behind his head and his long legs stretched out. “Get out of my bed, Blaine,” I ordered, crossing my arms. At first I didn’t think he was going to move, but then he curled his tall frame from my bed and stalked toward me. He backed me against my bedroom door in three strides, before he pressed his palms flat against the hard wood at the sides of my head. “That’s a first,” he whispered. I lifted my head and met his gaze head on. “What’s a first?” “It’s not often I get ordered out of a girl’s bed.” He grinned down at me, his plump lips looking completely kissable. “That’s because you’re not attracted to good girls.” “Is that what you are, Chelsey? A good girl?” “Yes,” I rasped. “There’s not even a tiny bit of something bad in you?” “No,” I answered. “That’s too bad.” He tsked. “Would you like something bad in you? I’d be happy to oblige.” I swallowed hard. “I’m not going to fall into your trap, Blaine.” He smiled, and then pushed away from the door holding his hands up in surrender. He tilted his head slightly and looked up at me from beneath his dark lashes. His unruly hair fell across his eyes making him look every bit the bad boy he was. I nearly became a puddle of mush when his smile turned into a scorching grin. “I surrender, Miss Ford.” I rolled my eyes, but my body flushed from the inside out. “What are you doing here, Blaine?” He shrugged, and everything but my question seemed to catch his attention as his eyes took in my bedroom. “You said you wanted to start on our project as soon as possible.” “And you thought I meant at midnight?” He walked over to the only bookcase in my room and pulled a book from the stuffed shelf. “I thought that was code.” He looked over at me, cocking an eyebrow. “Code? I don’t do code.” “Oh yeah. I forgot. You’re a good girl.”

I glared. “When I said as soon as possible, I meant at school, during the day.” He flipped through the pages of the book in his hands. “You mean when people are around so you don’t have to be alone with me?” I ignored his question. “Or in the library where there are plenty of textbooks around.” “Speaking of books, have you read all these?” His hand swept up and down the five shelf bookcase. “Yes.” He whistled. “Impressive.” He closed the book in his hands. “The Edge of Darkness,” he read aloud, looking over the cover in his hands. “What’s this about?” “It’s a romance,” I answered, walking over to him. “You wouldn’t like it.” I tried to take the book from his hand, but he held on tight. “How do you know what I would or wouldn’t like?” He gave the book a tug and I followed, my thighs brushing against his. “You don’t seem like the romantic type.” “How would you know? We’ve been on one date.” I frowned, failing to see the point of his argument. “And that one date ended with us being arrested.” “Some would find that romantic.” He shrugged. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, hoping to keep my smile hidden. “I guess so.” “Uh oh, Little Doe,” he whispered. “What?” “Your bad girl side is showing a little bit. You better tuck that back in before someone sees it.” This time I couldn’t hold back my smile. “I never said I found it romantic,” I pointed out. “Then what do you find romantic?” he asked. “My books. They’re all the romance I need.” “Because you don’t have time for real life romance?” “Exactly.” He pursed his lips together and nodded like he understood exactly what I meant. When he started flipping through the pages again, I frowned. “What are you doing?”

“I’m learning,” he said. He stopped on a page and began to skim it. “Learning what?” “The kind of romance you like.” I went to grab the book again, but he moved it out of my grasp. “Blaine, give me my book.” I sounded like a child, but I didn’t care. I did not want him reading my books and finding out the things I liked to read about.” “Well, well, well,” he said with a huge smile. “My little doe likes sexy, romance novels.” I wanted to die, and I actually thought I was going to get my wish when I felt my entire body burn in embarrassment. “Can I have my book now?” “Not yet.” And then he was reading out loud. “‘I bit her bottom lip gently and she gasped before wilting into my touch.’” In between the words he memorized, his eyes would find mine. “‘I pulled on her bottom lip, sucking on it softly, and her fingers gripped my shirt tightly. I ran the tip of my tongue across the seam of her lips and they opened willingly.’” He closed the book with a thump and then handed it back to me. I put it back in its place. Turning away from him, I wondered how I was ever going to be able to look him in the face again. “I never would’ve thought it,” he said. “What?” I asked, without turning around. “That they wrote stuff like that in books.” “That’s funny considering the type of reading material guys like you like to read.” I felt my face getting hotter. Why did I have to go there? “You mean porn?” he asked. “Not really my thing.” I turned around, knowing I couldn’t avoid him forever. “What type of books do you like to read?” “I’m not really a reader. I’m more of a car guy.” He shrugged, running his fingers along the bindings of the books on my shelf. Walking back to the bookshelf, I picked up the same book he read out of and pushed it into his chest. “You should try reading some time.” “For you, my sweet Chelsey, I will.” I swallowed hard past the lump his words created.

“So, Columbia, huh?” He looked around my room, taking in my covered walls. “What was your first guess?” We both laughed. “Looks like you have everything all figured out.” “Pretty much. Don’t you?” “Nah, but I’m working on that part.” He was moving toward the window then, and I suddenly felt dread that he was leaving. “Are you leaving?” I blurted before I could stop myself. He smiled like he knew what I was thinking. “Yeah. I figure you good girl types need all the beauty sleep you can get.” I rolled my eyes. “We’ll meet tomorrow in the library after lunch? I have a free period.” “Sounds like a plan.” And just as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone, taking any chance of a peaceful night’s sleep with him.





12 BLAINE I DON’T KNOW WHAT MADE ME sneak into Chelsey’s window. One minute I was in bed, lying there thinking about her, and then the next I was standing in front of her house like a crazy stalker. She looked so sweet all half-asleep in her pink boxer shorts and white tank. It took everything in me not to lay her down in her bed and take advantage of her. Every time I pulled her body to mine I could feel she wasn’t wearing a bra. It was enough to make a sane man crazy. Leaving her and going home was hard. Shit, I was hard. I hadn’t been with another girl since my date with Chelsey. It wasn’t for lack of girls, it was that none of them did it for me. All the things that turned me on before didn’t do it for me anymore. Only her. She did it for me. The following day, I met Chelsey in the library after lunch as promised. It was the first time in a long time that I spent an entire day in school, but I didn’t tell her that. We busted ass on our project all week. I used the time to learn all I could about Chelsey Ford. I made sure to spread out my questions so I didn’t make it overly obvious about my interest in her. On Thursday, when I walked into the library, I found Chelsey in the back at the same table we worked at all week, but this time she wasn’t alone. My spine stiffened, and I felt a bolt of adrenaline fly through my veins at a dangerous speed. My heart rate picked up and the urge to punch something moved through me. I recognized the jock who was looming over where Chelsey sat. Josh Porter was the mayor’s kid. He was another rich piece of shit with a bad attitude and an expensive wardrobe, but the truth was the ladies loved him. He probably got as much ass as I did. He blocked Chelsey with his wide, linebacker shoulders, forcing me to move to the side just to be able to see her sweet face. She was smiling, and it sickened me that her smile was for Josh and not me. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, so I moved behind the tall bookcases so I could get closer without being noticed. I hid behind an endcap, my back against the smooth wood surface, and listened to their conversation.

“Is it because of that other guy?” Josh asked, and I wondered what that meant. “You mean Blaine?” “Is that his name?” Josh snorted. “Blaine.” The way he said my name made me want to put my fist through his face. The fucker. “It’s cute that you’re pretending not to know his name,” Chelsey teased. I wanted to grin at her words, but I couldn’t tell if she was flirting or not. Turning, I held onto the sides of the bookcase, and peeked one eye around the corner. She looked so small next to Josh’s large frame. She was always beautiful to me, but something about the way she was looking up at him made her even prettier. I wanted to rip his face off. I hated her attention being on him. She was mine. She just didn’t know it yet. I’d make it very clear to Josh later when I ripped his balls from his body. “Look who’s got jokes.” Josh tugged on a piece of her hair and I could see Chelsey’s blush from where I stood. My blood began to boil. The urge to go over and kick the living shit out of Josh was taking over. I wanted to beat him bloody and throw Chelsey over my shoulder like a fucking caveman. Mine. “Blaine’s just my friend.” “Good to know, but if not him, then why won’t you go out with me?” Are you fucking kidding me? I moved, ready to interrupt their conversation and pull Chelsey from the library, but I stopped. I didn’t want to look like a jealous fucker. “Things are crazy in my life right now. I don’t really have time for boys. The whole reason I have to do this extra credit project is because I let myself get too distracted.” Josh continued to push. “All the more reason to have a little fun. Come on, I promise not to be too much of a distraction for you.” His conniving grin made me feel sick to my stomach. I knew exactly what he was working toward. Josh and I weren’t all that different. I knew a panty chaser when I saw one, but it would be over my dead body if he touched her. My teeth grinded together. I feared I might crack my molars with the force of my jaw, but still, I stayed in my place and watched from afar as some asshole tried to steal my girl. She chewed on the inside of her lip, making me yearn to suck it and soothe where she nibbled. And then realization set it. She was actually considering going out with the piece of shit. She sighed sweetly and looked up at him when her decision was made.

“One date.” Her words were a blow to my chest. I leaned over and gasped when the breath was knocked from my body. No. I wouldn’t allow it. Chelsey was not going out with him. It wasn’t going to happen. Ever. He grinned like he’d just won the fucking female lottery… and he had. Chelsey was the grand prize. My grand prize. Not his. “That’s all I’m asking for.” He leaned away from her and ran a single finger down her bare arm. I wanted to rip his finger from his hand. “I’ll get you the details later.” “Okay.” She blushed again, making me want to scream in annoyance. He slid from the table, tucked a piece of hair behind Chelsey’s ear, and then he was gone. I turned around, pressing into the bookcase again and dug the heels of my palms into my eyes. All I could think about was chasing after Josh and breaking every bone in his body, starting with his fingers. I know I didn’t have any claim on Chelsey, not technically, but I’d stupidly thought there was something good between us. It was obvious now that I was the only one who felt that way, and it pissed me the fuck off. I moved through the library quickly, knocking over books in my desperation to get the hell out of there—to get the hell away from Chelsey Ford and her sweet ways. I was done letting her mind fuck me. I thought I knew what I was doing when it came to her, but apparently not. I was fucking clueless, and I was fucking done.

********** I DON’T KNOW WHAT POSSESSED ME to stay in school for the rest of the day, but it was a bad fucking mistake. I was a complete dick to anyone and everyone who mistakenly stepped in my path. Teacher or student, it didn’t matter who the hell they were, I was sure to let them know they picked the wrong damn day. When the final bell rang, I was out of the classroom before the halls even filled with students. I managed to get halfway toward the door before they began to spill out of the doors in a rush to get home. Sheep. They were a herd of Khaki-covered sheep who did exactly what their rich mommy and daddies wanted them to do. I’d never been more proud to be black—tarnished by my bad neighborhood and the druggies that dealt around me. Fuck the sheep. Fuck every last one

of them, including Chelsey Ford. I pushed and shoved my way through, in a rush to be away from anything that reminded me of her. I was almost to the door and free of the oppressive place called high school, when I felt her grab my sleeve I’d managed to avoid her the entire day, but of course she’d seek me out before I could escape. I expected her to find me earlier when I’d obviously blew her off during lunch, but instead she’d hugged her books tighter to her chest and turned away, cutting into my heart with that look of hurt on her face. “Blaine?” she asked for my attention, pulling on my arm. I tugged my arm roughly from her grasp and muttered my harsh words at her. “Leave me the fuck alone, Chelsey.” I left her standing on the other side of the school doors, stunned. I took the steps two at a time, forcing myself to ignore her, but then she was right on my heels. “What the hell is your problem?” she spat, stepping in front of me and forcing me to stop or run into her. Stopping, I pinched the bridge of my nose trying to calm the anger within. Just looking into her big, brown eyes burned. “For starters, you and your inability to get a fucking clue.” I tried to side-step her, but she was in my path again. “Really?” “What’s wrong?” she asked again. “I think I already covered that part.” “Don’t give me that bullshit, Blaine!” she roared. The students who were walking past us slowed and gave us weird looks. It was cloudy outside and the wind swirled around us, making Chelsey hug herself and move her hands up and down her arms. “What’s wrong?” she repeated firmly. “Honestly, Chelsey, I’m having a bad fucking day and you’re not making it any better.” Actually, I was having a good day until I overheard her conversation with Josh. But I couldn’t tell her that. I didn’t want her to know I was a jealous freak. She didn’t need to know how I really felt about her. It was bad enough I felt like a total loser. I didn’t need her thinking it, too. She flinched when I spoke to her, and again I had to force myself to ignore the hurt in her eyes. “I don’t understand you, Blaine,” she whispered. “I thought… I thought we were—” She stopped as she searched her mind for the right words.

“You thought what?” I asked, annoyed. “What did you think, Chelsey? Come on. Tell me. Did you think we were an actual we? That there was something between us?” “You know what? I’m done.” She threw her hands up. “When you decide to grow up, call me. Until then you can go straight to hell.” She bumped into my shoulder as she walked past me, nearly running to get away from me. I wanted to run after her, but I knew chasing after her was like chasing after the sun. She was impossible to catch and when I got too close, she burned me.



13 CHELSEY I HADN’T EXPECTED BLAINE TO SHOW up to Mr. Liam’s class at our agreed time at all, much less with his part of our project finished. Especially after he was being such an asshole the day before. I stayed up far too late and drank way too much coffee trying to finish his half of the project, but tears and a massive headache claimed what was left of my concentration. I was prepared to accept my failing grade when I got there, but when I walked in, Blaine was there staring back at me with a devious smirk. He was anything but my knight in shining armor. And even though he showed up, I still wanted to slap his beautiful face. I hate him. No, the tiny voice in my head corrected. You want to hate him. I was still in the dark when it came to Blaine’s sudden three hundred and sixty degree change, but by that point I was done dealing with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Mr. Liam said he’d have our grades on Monday, which meant there wasn’t much of anything I could do but wait. I hated waiting and the unknown. I hated to think one simple project could affect my GPA so greatly. After all the hard work I’d put into my grades, a stupid D because of a stupid guy was changing things. I wished Mr. Liam a good weekend, and left the classroom without a single word to Blaine. His eyes burned a hole in my back as I left the room. I spent the next few periods in zombie mode, blaming my lack of participation on my lack of sleep. I was on autopilot with auto responses to the questions and conversations around me. When final period came around, I couldn’t remember anything that led up to that point. I’d dazed through the day without a care for what the teachers were teaching or the answers I was putting on my papers. Again, it was all Blaine’s fault. I was at my locker glaring at the contents within, when Lynn came skipping up to me. “Hey stranger,” she said, poking me in the side. “I’ve barely seen you all week. I hope

that means things are going good with Blaine?” She shifted until her back rested against the lockers, as she lifted a suggestive brow. The familiar look on her face, and the friendly, non-judgmental smile in her eyes was needed. It was the comfort I was desiring, but had yet to receive from anyone. I missed uncomplicated. I missed my boring, undramatic life. I missed life without Blaine, but then again, I missed Blaine. See? Complicated! Everything I was thinking must’ve showed in my expression. Because suddenly Lynn’s smiled dropped and she moved closer to me. “What’s wrong?” she asked, and her face crumbled with worry. And then I did something I hadn’t done in a long time. I started to bawl. My tears weren’t pretty, and they weren’t quiet. No. I couldn’t have gotten off that easily. Instead, I sobbed uncontrollably and loudly, making the students who passed us stare. Lynn slammed my locker shut and tugged me into the nearest girl’s bathroom. She left me at the sink while I let the tears fall, returning a few seconds later with tissue for me. “Thank you.” I sniffed, sopping up my tears until the tissue fell apart in my fingers. Once the water works stopped, and I swallowed the knot in my throat, I felt much better. “Want to tell me what all that was about?” Lynn asked, tucking a strand of wet hair behind my ear. She rested her hip against the counter with crossed arms and waited for me to get myself together. I sighed. “I honestly have no idea where that came from, but I feel a hell of a lot better.” She didn’t look at me like I was crazy, which was what I expected. Instead, she smiled at me before she burst into laughter. I held it in as long as I could, but soon I was laughing right along with her. The laughter felt even better than the tears. Our giggles echoed off the bathroom walls, and I was sure everyone who walked by the door could hear our hysteria, but I didn’t care. Wiping the laughter tears from my face, I took a deep, cleansing breath. Lynn did the same, smudging her eyeliner beneath her eyes. “So, which is it?” she asked. “Your parents, school, or Blaine?” I nodded, using my deteriorating tissue to collect any leftover tears. “All of the above.” “Things didn’t go so well with Blaine this week?” I hiccupped and shrugged. “No, not really. But I’m over that. Our project is done and

turned in. That was my main concern. I just need to focus from here on out.” “Can I tell you what I think you need?” I pursed my lips to the side debating on how I wanted to answer that question. Lynn’s idea of how to handle things and my idea of how to handle things differed greatly. “Go on,” I said cautiously. “I think you need to relax, Chelsey. Like, forget everything. Screw your parents. And college. And everything else that’s bothering you. Having a good cry and laughing hysterically works, but remembering to have fun is a hell of a lot better.” “There’s no time for fun,” I groaned. “There is,” she insisted. “You have to make time. Promise me you’ll at least try to have some fun.” I didn’t know how much fun I was going to have time to have, but it wasn’t going to hurt to agree to appease Lynn. “Okay.” I smiled. “Good.” She seemed content, and that was all that mattered for now. She turned toward the mirror and I watched her reflection as she moved her fingers under her eyes and across her lips, fixing smudges. When I found my own reflection I took in my puffy, red eyes and pale complexion. I almost didn’t recognize myself anymore. The stress of grades and college was beginning to run me down. It was aging me—turning me into an old hag way before my time. Maybe Lynn was right. Maybe I did need to remember to slow down and enjoy what was left of my teenage years. My thoughts jumped to Blaine and all the fun he could offer, but then I remembered his face the day before, and the burn of his heated words. Swallowing down the hurt, I forced myself to push him from my mind. The truth was Blaine was a ticking time bomb, and I didn’t want to be anywhere around him when karma caught up with him and his life exploded before his eyes. I didn’t need anyone else’s mess. I had a big enough mess of my own. As soon as I pushed Blaine from my mind, Josh entered. I wasn’t an expert on boys, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know exactly what he was offering. They all wanted the same thing, and none of them had a clue they’d never get it from me. Josh was attractive, but in a different way from Blaine. He was clean-cut and cute, while Blaine was a dirty mess of sexual tension. Both were dangerous in their own way, but Blaine was the one who truly scared me. He made me think of things I wasn’t ready for—made me want and need things a girl with my future shouldn’t want or need. I didn’t tell Lynn about Josh asking me out. Something told me she’d have a field day

with that tidbit of information. I wasn’t ready to talk about it, and I wasn’t even sure going on a date with Josh was what I wanted. “Are you ready?” Lynn asked, zipping her small makeup bag and shoving it into her backpack. “You go on.” I waved a hand her way. “I just want to make sure I have it all together before I brave the halls. You don’t think anyone saw me crying do you?” “Nope. No one was around. Do you want me to wait with you?” I shook my head. “No, I’m good. Thank you, though. And thanks for rescuing me earlier.” “Always, babe. I’ll call and check on you later.” “Okay.” I waited until she left before I splashed my face with cold water a few times. Once the redness around my eyes faded a bit, I dried my hands and pushed my way through the bathroom door in a rush to get out of the school and home. I ran straight into a wall of heat. The soft scent of deodorant and cologne moved over me. I took a deep pull of the masculine smell before I moved back and let my eyes wander. I knew who it was before I even saw his face, but still when my eyes met Blaine’s, I lost my breath. His nostrils flared as his eyes moved over my flushed face. He was brooding, and I couldn’t tell if he was angry at me again or if it was worry I saw move through his expression. I also wasn’t exactly sure why he was camped out just outside the girl’s bathroom. “If you’re waiting for someone, she’s not there anymore. I was the only one in there,” I said. I brushed past him without waiting for his response. He caught my arm, stopping me in my tracks, and his calloused fingers moved over my skin sending chills into my shoulder. “Why were you crying?” he asked. I stood there, my mouth opening and closing like a fish as I tried to come up with an excuse. “How did you know I was crying?” I asked, turning on him. “Did Lynn tell you?” I knew when I asked the question that she’d never betray me that way. She’d die before she let my secrets slip. “I saw you,” he said. I frowned. “You saw me?” Embarrassment seeped into core and I tried once again to move around him. Again, his fingers moved over the skin on my arm stopping me and sending a fresh batch of goose

bumps up to my shoulder. “Answer the question, Chelsey,” he begged softly. “Why were you crying?” His gently spoken words pushed me from embarrassed to angry. “That’s none of your damn business,” I snapped. “Now, it’s your turn to leave me the hell alone. Our project’s done, which means there’s no need for us to be around each other anymore.” I tugged my arm from his grasp and he let me go. Once I was loose, I took long, angry strides to get away from him. I could feel the tears pressing on the back of my eyelids and I refused to cry again. Especially not in front of him. His sneakers squeaked behind me as he walked on my heels. “I asked you a question, Chelsey.” His voice was now stern when he spoke to me, the softness having dissolved with my heated answer. “I heard you, and I don’t owe you anything.” I continued to power-walk down the hallway, which didn’t help me get away since even his normal walk was faster than me. He sighed, but didn’t slow down. It angered me that he was calmly walking while I was practically running. Everything he did was so calm, cool, and collected. Meanwhile, I was a mess of dramatic nerves and tears. Damn him! “Answer my question and I’ll leave you alone.” I stopped, turning a heated glare his way. “You have a lot of nerve, Blaine Wesley. Who do you think you are? All demanding answers from me when you had no interest in answering my questions yesterday.” Suddenly, he pulled me to him, holding me tightly against his hard body. His fingers wrapped around the top of my arm, enough to hold me still, but not enough to hurt me. I felt tiny sparks of electricity in all the places he was touching me. On my arms. Down the front of my body. And when he lifted his palm to my cheek, there was a spark there, as well. “Why were you crying, Chelsey?” His voice was soft and gentle, but still firm and demanding. He was confusing me and melting me at the same time. His face was so close to mine that I could see every magnificent shade of blue in his eyes. “Why do you care?” I rasped. My voice cracked and I had to swallow. “Because I can’t get you out of my head,” he whispered fiercely. He ran a rough hand down his face. “Please,” he begged. “Tell me why you were crying. Was it that guy Josh?

Did he do something to you?” He caught me off guard and I stood there stunned by his questions. “What?” I asked. “How do you—”And then I understood. “You were there weren’t you? Yesterday in the library? You were there and you heard our conversation. You heard him ask me out, didn’t you?” I pushed at his chest and he let me go. I stood an arm’s length away from him as I sorted through the mixed up emotions running around my head. I was angry. I was hurt. And I was definitely confused. “You treated me like crap yesterday because you were jealous?” I growled. “Do you know how childish that is, Blaine?” His eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. I could tell by his reaction that I hit the nail on the head. He was jealous of Josh. He sat nearby listening to my conversation with him, and then he took his jealousy and anger out on me after school. His nostrils flared and his lips tightened. “Are you going to answer my question or not? Was it Josh?” “Was what me?” Josh asked from our side. Neither of us had bothered to notice we weren’t alone. Go figure the topic of our conversation would be the one to interrupt us. I turned, my eyes raking over Josh’s large shoulders and settling on his confused expression. His eyes moved from my face to Blaine’s, and if looks could kill, Josh would’ve been dead. Blaine’s eyes dug into him as he seethed from my side. “Did I interrupt something?” He put his hands up, taking a step back. “Yes,” Blaine snarled. “No,” I stressed, overpowering Blaine’s hostile response. “Blaine and I turned in our project today.” “Okay,” he said, drawing out the word. “Well, I just wanted to see if you wanted to go with me and a couple of friends to a party tonight. There’s this old farm on the other side of town and a lot of people are going out that way. I’ve never been there, but I thought it could be fun.” I knew exactly which farm Josh was talking about. It was the same place where Blaine had first kissed me. I knew it wasn’t Josh’s kind of place, but I wasn’t about to talk about that in front of Blaine. When I didn’t answer right away, Josh’s glance moved from me to Blaine, but Blaine was too busy staring at me to notice. The awkward tension of the moment was starting to suffocate me and I found myself silently wishing I could disappear into thin air. “I guess that answers my question,” Blaine snapped. He moved between me and Josh, his shoulder slamming into Josh’s as he passed,

before he threw the doors open and left the building. “What was that all about?” Josh asked. I shook my head. “I have no idea.” Quickly, I changed the subject before Josh could ask any more questions. “So, a farm party tonight? “Yes. But before you say no, remember you owe me one date.” I chewed on the inside of my lip as Lynn’s words weaseled their way through my memory. Going to the farm for a party with Josh didn’t sound like much fun. Not to mention, there was always a possibility Blaine would be there since he was at the last one, but still, Lynn was right. I needed to get out and make time for things other than school. “Okay,” I agreed. “I could use a little fun tonight.” And that’s exactly what I planned on having.



14 BLAINE I WAS TORTURING MYSELF by going to the party on the farm. Especially since I knew Chelsey was going to be there with that jock asshole. Still, I knew how crazy things could get at the parties in my neck of the woods, and I didn’t want her getting caught up in any fucked up bullshit. Taking a long swig of my beer, I checked the parking area again as I waited for Chelsey to show. It was two hours into the party and still she hadn’t showed up. Maybe I’d get lucky and she wouldn’t. Maybe she decided the smart thing to do was to stay her pretty ass home and avoid Josh and all his bullshit for the night. I took a blunt when Jay passed it my way and took a deep draw from the tip. The cherry lit up and crackled. The smoke filled my lungs, and I held it in until I had to breathe again. Blowing smoke rings into the night air around me, I coughed and passed it back. “Some good shit, right?” Jay asked. My lungs were still tingling from my hit—my throat still burning from how harsh the smoke was. “Fuck yeah,” I answered. “When’d you get it in?” “It’s some new shit I picked up in Savannah last weekend. I paid an extra twenty bucks per pound. I figured it was laced with some kickass extras, but instead it turned out to be some redheaded nasty Kush.” Redheaded nasty meaning it was covered it red fur and was going to keep us high all fucking night. I shook my head and laughed. Jay was always coming up with crazy names for his product, but the man knew good shit when he had it and since as I was one of his best customers I always had first dibs. Once I emptied my cup, I stood from my fold-out chair and walked toward the keg. The bonfire was blazing, sending flecks of embers into the night sky, and the crowd was getting thicker and louder. Johnny, better known as Swamp Cat, one of the local redneck boys, brought out a pair of his four-wheelers, and a few of the dumb asses were racing them and getting them bogged down in the Georgia mud off to one side of the field.

Needless to say, the night was rowdy and the noises from the four-wheeler engines were roaring to life every few minutes in the background. There was laughter, engines, and music in the air along with the distinct smell of alcohol and smoke. Girls danced around the fire, dropping low and twerking to music as the guys stood to the side and watched. I’d been one of those guys once. Hell, less than a few months back that had been me. But now the only girl I could think about was Chelsey, which was cruel since she was the total opposite of me and my lifestyle. I pumped the keg and filled my cup before I headed back toward Jay and the group I was chilling with. The engines roared to life again, and I watched as one of the fourwheelers lost control and spewed mud into the air behind it. Turning away as a few guys ran out toward the mud to help him, my eyes landed directly on Chelsey. She was sitting on a stump beside the fire with Josh’s arm around her shoulder. Her long, brown hair was pulled back showing off her round face and flushed cheeks. Her jeans were tighter than usual—the collar of her shirt a bit lower. She looked sexy, and I bit into my lip just thinking about the things I wanted to do to her. I worked my way across the crowd back to my seat, my eyes staying on her the entire way. She smiled up at Josh, making the beer in my stomach turn sour. I watched from across the bonfire as she listened intently to everything he was saying before she threw her head back and laughed. He pulled her to his side and whispered in her ear making her cheeks blush. I wanted to rip his arms from his body and beat him with them. Fire ripped through my body like a bolt of lightning and before I realized what I was doing, I was on my feet and taking long, hard strides to where they sat. Chelsey’s eyes caught mine as I stepped up to where they were sitting, and her spine stiffened. Josh turned my way with a drunken smile and nodded in my direction. “Hey, Blaine. What’s up, bro?” he slurred. The motherfucker was drunk already. Fucking lightweight piece of shit. “I’m not your fucking bro,” I snapped. Josh stood like he was ready to do something, his face turning dark, and I went tense. He knew better than to fuck with me, but apparently the alcohol running through his system was making him brave. That was even better for me since I was fucking ready for a fight. My fist was practically begging for a piece of his face. Chelsey stood between us, her eyes raking over my expression. “What’s your problem, Blaine?” she asked. And then I smelled it. The distinct smell of vodka on her breath. The fire moving through my body went hotter, turning my blood to lava, and I felt like my insides were turning out. “You’ve been drinking?” I said, appalled as if I hadn’t been drinking myself.

But it was different with Chelsey. She wasn’t this person. She wasn’t the kind of girl to go to a party with a shithead who was drinking, and she definitely wasn’t the kind of girl who would partake while she was there. “Just a little bit. It’s really not a big deal,” she muttered, looking away. She couldn’t even look me in the eye when she said it. Because it was definitely a big deal. It was a massive fucking deal. Reaching out, I plucked the red cup from her hand and tossed it to the ground. “What the fuck, man?” Josh pushed around her side. She reached out and laid a hand on his chest to stop him. “Oh fuck that. Don’t put his leash on him yet, Chelsey. Let him come my way. I fucking dare him,” I said, my eyes burning from the rage simmering below my skin. Again, Josh moved my way. This time, I set Chelsey to the side and got in his face. I heard the crowd behind us go quiet and I knew we’d gained the attention of everyone around us. So be it. Let everyone see his bitch-ass get beat the fuck down. Because that’s exactly what I was planning on doing the minute he even opened his fucking mouth again. His wide shoulders stiffened and his narrowed eyes took me in. He was just as ready as I was. “Do something, motherfucker. I fucking dare you,” I hissed in his face. Chelsey tugged at my arm, her tiny fingers digging into my bicep. “Stop it, Blaine! This is none of your business,” she shouted at my side. My eyes whipped her way at her words. How could she say that? How could she even think anything involving her wasn’t my business? She was my fucking business. Had been since the moment I first saw her. Whether she knew it yet or not, she was mine. Mine! “You’re not my business?” I roared at her, making her jerk at my harsh words. Her face turned red with anger and it only made her even sexier. Her fingers dug harder into my flesh, her nails biting at my skin. “No! I’m not. So, just leave us alone!” She gave as good as she got, and her words hit their target. My chest burned with hurt, which only angered me more. I pulled my arm from her grasp and turned my heated stare on her. She didn’t back down. Instead, she lifted her chin like a man ready to fight me. It was funny considering the situation. She obviously had more balls than Josh. I felt all eyes on me, burning into my expression and waiting for my next move. Then I realized how things must’ve looked to outsiders. I looked pussy whipped. It looked as if my girl had been taken by Josh the fucking rich boy jock. Fuck that!

Shaking my head, I let a sardonic smirk pull at my tight lips as I looked down at her. “You know what? You’re right. You ain’t shit to me.” The lie burned my tongue. She gasped as if I’d hurt her and I didn’t even try to fix things. Instead, I backed away with my eyes still on hers, and turned and walked away. It was the first time I’d walked away from a fight in my life, but fuck it. If she wanted to make a fool out of herself so be it. If she wanted to come to a party she obviously didn’t belong at and drink until her fucking face went numb then it was her business, not mine. I debated getting in my car and leaving all the rubber from my tires on the side of the road as I peeled away, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. The truth was I didn’t trust Josh, and I definitely didn’t trust a drinking Chelsey. So instead, I went back to my chair and downed my beer in one large gulp. Fuck it. “You okay, man?” Jay asked at my side. I kept my eyes on the blazing bonfire in front of me and nodded my answer. I didn’t trust myself to speak. I didn’t trust what kind of crazy shit might fly from my mouth if I opened it. I watched from across the bonfire as Chelsey stepped into my world without me by her side. I watched as she continuously drank and laughed like everything I knew she was working for didn’t matter—like Columbia didn’t matter. The longer I watched, the more pissed off I became. Until finally I lost count of how much I’d had to drink. I tossed my cup to the ground and walked away from the party and toward a cluster of trees. I had to piss so badly and I wasn’t leaving the party until Chelsey did. Hell, if I was being honest, I wasn’t letting her leave with Josh. Period. I pissed on the side of a tree, the sounds of the party and the four-wheeler engines far away from my existence. And then everything lit up and the sounds of everything became even louder. The engines sounded different, as if they were straining to go. The party goers roared loud with excitement, and I knew something was up. Turning toward the commotion, the figures and firelight blurred before my eyes letting me know I’d had way too much to drink. Shaking and zipping up my jeans, I made my way back toward the crowd and pushed through until I was standing in front of everyone and taking in the scene before me. And everything stopped. Chelsey was on one of the four-wheelers, and it was obvious she had no idea what she was doing. Her ponytail swished in the air around her as she sped through the muck way too fast. Dirt and mud coated her jeans and shoes as she raced another girl on the other four-wheeler. She fishtailed, her back wheels sliding to the front, and I gasped with fear. My buzz was gone instantly, as I watched, feeling completely helpless. There was no way I could

catch her or help her. She turned her wheel getting back on the track and took off again. Josh yelled and egged her on from the sidelines along with the rest of the party goers, but I could see the catastrophe that was about to happen. I knew about engines and tires. I knew about the Georgia mud and what you should and shouldn’t do in it. But worst of all, I knew Chelsey had no fucking clue was she was getting herself into. The crowd gasped as she hit the gas again a little too hard, and everything moved in slow motion as her four-wheeler turned to the side, tumbling and rolling over the mud and tossing Chelsey at least ten feet into the air. I was running toward her before she even landed. The rest of the crowd stood in shock as her four-wheeler landed upside down beside her, the tires still spinning fast in the air. My boots were lost in the sludge as I ran into the space they were using as a pit and landed on my knees at her side. Her face was pale and covered with muck—her hair black from the mud that was caked in it. She looked small and helpless—entirely too beautiful and too good for everything around her. All the air in my lungs went away, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to inhale again. Everything became a blur, the noises muffled. I reached out and touched her cheek, guilt filling me. I should’ve taken over. I should’ve kicked Josh’s ass. I should’ve told her what I was thinking—what I wanted. I wanted her. She should’ve been at the party with me. She should’ve been with me anywhere. Period. If she’d been there with me I would’ve never allowed her to get hurt. I would’ve never let her get on a four-wheeler knowing she’d been drinking and had no idea what she was doing. But then again, had she been with me, she wouldn’t have been drinking in the first place. I leaned over her. I was sure I was suffocating, and I was sure I was looking down into the face of a girl who might not ever wake up again. Panic filled every crevice of my being. Reaching up, I settled my fingers against the side of her neck to check for a pulse, but then her eyes popped opened, her brown ones clashing with my blue, and she smiled, relieving the pressure around my chest and giving me back my ability to breathe. “Did I win?” she asked.





15 CHELSEY I LEARNED A FEW THINGS ABOUT MYSELF at the farm party with Josh. One: I can’t handle my liquor. Like, at all. Like, I should never be allowed to smell it, much less drink it. I don’t think I’ll be doing the whole drinking thing again for a long time, if ever. Two: I’m completely incapable of turning down a dare. As in, I couldn’t have said no if I wanted to. The adrenaline. The rush of doing something so completely against my character—it was a hell of ride—a ride I never wanted to get off of. But the biggest thing I learned, was Blaine cared about me. Regardless of the things he said to me when he went all Incredible Hulk on Josh, he cared. He said I was nothing to him. He said those words, and I could tell by the conviction in his voice he meant them when he said them. His words hurt. They sent me on a downward spiral for the rest of the night. From that point on, I drank whatever was handed to me. I was a smart girl. I knew everything I was doing was stupid, but that’s what Blaine did to me. He turned me into a stupid mess of a girl—one who wanted to make bad choices just to show him I could—just to make him crazy. The four-wheelers roared into the night as different people raced each other in a pit full of mud. I’d heard of people doing the mud bogging thing. I mean, I did live in the south after all, but I’d never seen it firsthand. It actually looked like a ton of fun. “I’m jealous of four-wheelers,” Josh slurred at my side. I turned to face him, and he was shaking his head. His soft smile did absolutely nothing for me. It was nothing like the mysterious smirk Blaine gave me. It didn’t make me wonder what he was thinking. Honestly, I didn’t care about what Josh was thinking at all. The only reason I was even there was because I’d promised Lynn I’d try to have fun. “Why?” I asked. “Because you haven’t taken your eyes off of them all night,” he said. “I want some of that attention for myself.” I hated when he talked to me like that. He’d been flirting all night, and all night I managed to blow it off. But the more he drank, the more vulgar he became. The more vulgar he became, the more he touched me. And the more he touched me, the more I found myself pulling away from him.

His hands felt wrong against my skin—they felt clammy and gross. The spark I felt when Blaine touched me was absent, and it made me feel dirty and cheap. Although, that could’ve had more to do with the outfit I let Lynn pick out for me. My jeans were too tight, and my shirt was too low. I found myself constantly pulling it up to hide the tiny bit of cleavage Josh kept staring at. All in all, my night of fun was a bust, but at least the liquor Josh kept feeding me took the sting of boredom away. “I just think it looks fun,” I mumbled, shrugging. Again, his eyes moved over my chest prompting to me to adjust my shirt for the hundredth time. “You want to ride one?” he asked, licking his thin, cracked lips. “Oh no, I couldn’t,” I replied. “Oh come on, Chelsey,” his slur deepened. “Live a little.” Peer pressure was a bitch. Still, I shook my head and looked away at the scene in front of us. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said into my cup. “I dare you to drive it.” And that was all it took. A thrill I hadn’t felt all night, except for when I was arguing with Blaine, filled me. The alcohol swimming in my veins loosened me up and made my decision making abilities moot. I giggled. “Don’t dare me, Josh.” His brows lifted when he realized he was getting somewhere. “Fine,” he breathed. “I double dog dare you.” I laughed. “What are you, five?” His eyes wrinkled with his laughter. “Nope. It’s just I can see the excitement in your eyes, Chelsey. I know you want to ride it.” He said it as if he was talking about something sexual. A disgusted chill moved through me. And then he stood and started toward the guys who were basically running the fourwheelers. I was right on his heels. “No, Josh. Just forget it. This is stupid.” I was out of breath from trying to keep up with him. That, and from the excitement that was blooming within. “Don’t be such a chicken,” he goaded. I followed behind him until my feet were sinking into the mud of the pit—until we were standing beside one of the four-wheelers, the engine humming and ready to be

revved up and driven. “I’m not doing this,” I said, as I watched a girl wrapped in pink camouflage climb on the other four-wheeler, a daring smile on her lips as she looked over at me. “You are. You want to. Just do it,” he urged. I bit into my bottom lip, the excitement within exploding and forcing me to move. And then I was climbing onto the cushioned seat and straddling the four-wheeler. It vibrated between my legs sending a jolt of sensation through me that made me smile. I tried to listen as a guy everyone called Swamp Cat went over the gears and how to drive it. I had no idea what he was saying. All I know is when they said go I flicked my wrist and hit the gas. The four-wheeler jerked as I took off, the wind whipping my ponytail around. For a few brief minutes, I felt more alive than I had in my entire life. The engine rumbled with life. The rush of cool air over my skin cleansed me. And the coursing adrenaline made me feel higher than anyone at the party. It was great. Better than great. It was amazing. That was until everything went wrong and I felt myself flying through the air. The adrenaline was replaced with fear as the world turned and twisted before my eyes. And then the world went black and I was met with a never-ending silence. The ground was hard beneath me. My lungs ached to breathe. My heartbeat was ripping through my body at a high rate of speed, but still, I refused to open my eyes and acknowledge what I’d just done. I’d wrecked some poor guy’s four-wheeler, and I was sure I broke something in my ankle. The pain radiated up my calf and throbbed with the beat of my heart. And then I sensed him. His familiar scent invaded me and his warm breath moved over my face sending calm through my core. Opening my eyes, Blaine was staring down at me, worry etched in his brow. He was breathing hard, his breath coming out in white puffs of smoke in the night air around us. His calloused fingers moved over my cheeks, wiping mud from my face, leaving warmth in their stead. “Chelsey,” he whispered. His voice cracked with emotion I didn’t understand, and then he was touching my face again. I blinked as the world around us came back into focus, and suddenly the sounds of everyone who was standing around us came in clearer and clearer. I pressed my hands into the ground at my sides to push myself into seated position, and mud squished between my fingers. My eyes moved over Blaine’s concerned face before I let them slide over to the four-wheeler lying on its back beside us. “Oh my God,” I rasped.

I could hardly believe I’d done something so stupid—that I’d put myself in so much danger. But a dare was a dare, and I was dumb enough to go along with it. My head spun, and I reached out to smooth away the sharp pain that moved across my skull. The buzz from the alcohol Josh fed me had dissolved from the shock of the accident, and slowly twinges of pain moved into the rest of my body as I moved to stand. Eyes of strangers stared down at me, but it was only Blaine I could see. “Let me help you,” he said, reaching under my arms and lifting me to a standing position. His voice was quiet, his eyes softer, and I knew something had changed from the last time we spoke. “You’re bleeding,” he said. Reaching down, he pulled his shirt over his head and off his body, revealing a perfect set of olive-colored abs. They rippled and flexed as he balled his shirt up and placed it against the side of my forehead to soak up my blood. My eyes roamed over his skin and a heated blush covered my cheeks. He smirked down at me as if he knew my train of thought. He leaned in, his blue eyes darkening. “Don’t look at me like that, Little Doe. You don’t understand what you’re eyes are asking me for.” I didn’t respond. Instead, I let him swoop me into his arms and carry me toward the parking area. “Shit. Is she okay?” Josh asked, running up beside Blaine and me. “Get the fuck away from her. I’ll deal with you later,” Blaine said. And something told me had he not had his arms full of me he would’ve made good on his earlier promise to beat the crap out of Josh. I lifted my head to say something to Josh, but before I could, Blaine stopped me. “Shhh. Don’t talk. I’m taking you to the hospital.” Real panic set in. I couldn’t go to the hospital. My parents didn’t know I wasn’t home. Already they were driving me crazy with their rules. They’d gotten worse since the police brought me home from my date with Blaine. I didn’t think I could take it if things got even stricter at home. “No!” I called out, pressing my hand to Blaine’s chest. He looked down at me with question in his eyes. “My parents will find out,” I clarified. He pulled open the passenger’s side door of his car and set me carefully inside. I felt terrible about getting mud on his seats and floor, but he acted as if he couldn’t care less. “Chelsey, I’m sorry, but you’re going to the hospital.” And then he shut the door in my face before I could argue and ran around to the

driver’s side door. He slid into the car and brought his engine to life, the roar much louder than any fourwheeler, and then he peeled away from the party, leaving Josh and everyone else behind without a second thought.



16 BLAINE EVEN THOUGH IT WAS THE LAST THING I wanted to do, I called Chelsey’s parents. It’s not like I had a choice since the hospital was going to anyway. She was just three weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday, which meant legally they had to call. She wasn’t too happy about it, and she begged me not to be the one to call, but I wasn’t a bitch boy. I wasn’t about to drop her at the hospital like a sack of potatoes and not be there for her. I knew her mother wasn’t going to be too happy she was with me, but it was a chance I was willing to take. I’d decided after her accident I wasn’t going to let her out of my sight. Then I decided in the silent car on the way to the hospital that I wanted to be with her, and being with her meant dealing with her parents—showing them I could be good for her. Leaving her to clean up a mess alone wasn’t good for her. It wasn’t the responsible thing to do, and for Chelsey I wanted to be responsible. I stood to the side as the doctor examined her head, and my abdominal muscles tensed every time she flinched in pain. I didn’t like that shit one bit. Every time it happened I wanted to drive back to the farm and beat the shit out of Josh for allowing this to go so far. He should’ve protected her better. He should’ve been smarter. “Well, Miss Ford, we’re going to need to x-ray that ankle and get a CT scan just to be on the safe side,” the doctor said. He made notes on his clipboard before looking up with a confident smile. Chelsey nodded and tucked a muddy, stray piece of hair that managed to escape her ponytail behind her ear. The doctor patted her on the back before leaving us alone in the room. “Thanks for bringing me here,” she said. She was nibbling on her bottom lip and avoiding eye contact. “What were you thinking, Chelsey?” I asked. “You could’ve killed yourself.” She looked down and twisted her fingers in her lap. “I was thinking I wanted to do something fun. Lynn says I never do anything fun. Plus, I needed something to take my mind off some frustrations in my life.” I shook my head and sighed. “What’s so fucking frustrating in your life that you put yourself in danger to escape it?” I asked.

I was beginning to feel frustrated myself. Now that my anger had subsided and my high had vanished I was thinking more clearly. All I could think about was how much worse it could’ve been. “You,” she whispered. “You frustrate me beyond belief.” My stomach felt as if it dropped, and I swallowed hard to clear the knot in my throat. Everything that happened from the moment I helped pick up her books flashed through my mind. I felt desperate to be close to her—to touch her skin and feel her against mine. I moved closer, running my finger down the side of her face and over a crusted piece of mud that was stuck to her flushed skin. She looked up at me—her eyes clashing with mine. I watched as she swallowed hard, her throat moving up and down. “You’re pretty frustrating, too, you know?” I rasped. I didn’t stop at her cheek. Instead, I let my finger drift down the side of her neck where her pulse was banging against her delicate skin. “I am?” I moved closer again, my thighs brushing against the bed she was sitting on. Losing my fingers in her muddy hair, I used the heel of my hand to lift her chin. “Very. You make me crazy, Chelsey.” My honesty was deafening. It echoed off the walls and cut through the silence of the room around us. Again, she nervously began to nibble on her bottom lip as she looked up at me through her dark lashes. She had no idea the affect she had on me. “Like that,” I said, pulling her bottom lip from her teeth with my thumb. “It drives me crazy when you bite your lip like that. It makes me think about kissing you again, and that’s something I can’t do.” She licked her lips before releasing a hard breath that I felt against the pad of my thumb. “You can’t?” she asked as her brow dipped in confusion. “No.” “Why not?” She surprised me with her question. I could tell by the acceleration of her pulse and her dilated eyes that she wanted me to kiss her. “Because I’m afraid if I do, I won’t be able to stop.” I leaned in closer. Her sweet scent mixed with the earthy smell of the dirt caked on her swirled all around me. She blinked, her big, brown eyes glazed over and stimulated, and she leaned in closer to me, as well. “I don’t know that I’d want you to stop,” she whispered. I was close enough to feel her soft breaths against my mouth, and I swallowed hard

just thinking about pressing my mouth to hers. “You don’t know? Maybe we should try it out and see what you think then?” I didn’t wait for her to respond. Instead, I moved in, pressing my lips to hers and swallowing the tiny moan that slipped from her. Running my tongue long the seam of her lips, she gasped, letting me move in and taste her. My tongue swirled around hers—so soft and sweet—sending shivers down my body in a way no other girl ever had. I groaned when she cupped my cheek before losing her fingers in the hair on the back of my head. I took my time, showing her with my kiss what she did to me—showing her how crazy she made me. And again, she gave as good as she got, thrusting her tongue into my mouth and sucking on my bottom lip. My body hardened, and knew I was getting entirely too carried away in the hospital. Not to mention, I expected her parents to show up at any minute. Pulling away, I pressed my forehead to hers and caught my breath with closed eyes. She continued to rub the side of my face before she leaned in once more and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to my lips. “Chelsey?” I opened my eyes and looked into hers. “Yeah?” “You’re mine,” I stated. I didn’t care if I sounded demanding. I only cared that she knew from that moment on she was mine. As in, no other guy was taking her anywhere else. I didn’t care about what her parents thought. All I cared about was marking her with my lips and keeping her as my own. We’d deal with the rest later, once I knew she was okay and safe in her bed. “I am?” She grinned up at me and released a tiny chuckled. I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” “Does that mean you’re mine?” she asked, her eyes moving over my face and looking right through me. I nodded. “Definitely. I have been since the first moment I saw you.” Cupping her cheeks, I pulled her face to mine and kissed her again, finalizing the beginning of our relationship with the deep caresses of my tongue against hers. She gripped my hands on the sides of her face and kissed me back. Commotion sounded from just outsider the room we were in, and we jerked apart when the door flew open revealing her parents. They stood there looking back at us with appalled expressions. I stepped away from her bed, thankful I’d remembered to put my shirt back on regardless of the fact that it was covered in Chelsey’s blood. Lifting my chin, I didn’t blink as I matched her mother’s stare.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ford, my name’s Blaine. It’s nice to finally meet you.” I held my hand out to her father who looked down at it like it was a poisonous snake. I swallowed hard, and dropped my hand to my side when I realized he wasn’t going to shake it. Her mother’s eyes moved over me as if I was the trash her maid had taken out the week before, and I looked down at my bloody shirt with disdain. “Chelsey,” her mother’s voice rang out. “Say goodbye to your little friend. It’s bound to be the last time you ever see him.” I lifted my head swiftly, my eyes clashing with Chelsey’s, and I knew in that moment that it didn’t matter what her parents said. She was mine, and I’d do whatever it took to see her again.



17 CHELSEY BLAINE’S EYES WERE HARD AS STEEL as he stepped out of the room and left me alone with my parents. I wanted to call out to him. I wanted to beg him to stay and block me from their rage. I could see it boiling just behind my father’s eyes. I could see it in the snarl of my mother’s mouth. There was about to be hell to pay. The room fell silent, and I could practically see the smoke coming from their ears as they glared down at me. My ankle chose that moment to begin to throb, and I reached down and laid my hand over it. Memories of the night bombarded me, making me flinch from my aching head. The night had been terrible up until the last few minutes with Blaine. Honestly, I’d do it all over again if it meant I’d get to relive his kisses all over again. The way he touched my face was amazing. Even with the mud dry and crusted all over me, he touched me like my skin felt like silk. The look on his face, the way he said my name and called me his, all of it melted me on the spot. The pain in my ankle and head had all but disappeared when his lips were on mine. The truth was, he knew exactly what he was saying and doing, and he had never been more right. I was his. I’d melted for him and became putty in his hands. It was sad how easily I’d fallen for him and his words, and I knew no matter what, I’d see him again. It didn’t matter if I had to sneak out every night until I was eighteen, I’d do it for him. And something told me, he’d do the same for me.

********** I WENT HOME WITH A SPRAINED ANKLE and a slight concussion. All things I could live with. What I couldn’t live with were the ridiculous rules that were laid down the minute I stepped through my front door. There would be no more riding to school with Lynn. There would be no more leaving

my house without either my mother or father in tow. There would be no more staying after school without a teacher’s written note. All things that made me feel like I was ten all over again. It was embarrassing and completely preposterous, but I guess I understood a tiny bit. Did I screw up? Yes. Was I going to ever get back on a four-wheeler or have another drink? Hell to the no. I’d learned my lesson. That was the thing about me. It only took once and I was done. I wasn’t a glutton for punishment. At least I wasn’t unless it had something to do with Blaine. And being away from him for the three days I was out of school was punishment enough. I couldn’t wait to get back to school and see how things had changed. I wanted to see his smile and his icy eyes as they moved over me, making me feel like there was something special about me. I loved the way I felt around him—the exhilaration of being near him. So, when it was time for bed the night before I went back to school, it was with a smile full of anticipation that I turned my lamp off and snuggled into my sheets. I laid there staring up at my ceiling fan and thought of Blaine. I thought of his kisses and the cocky smirks that played on his luscious lips. It wasn’t long before my eyes were getting heavy and I couldn’t wait to fall asleep and dream about him. I was dancing on the outskirts of my conscious, sleep slowing seeping into my brain, when a tap on my window had me sitting up in bed with a gasp. My heart accelerated with excitement instead of fear. I knew who it was without even checking. Going to my window, I peeled back my curtain to find Blaine there smiling back at me. I unlocked the window and pulled it up as quietly as possible, before standing to the side and helping him in. “What are you doing here?” I whispered as I closed the window and set my curtains back in place. When I turned my attention back to him, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. His fingers caressed my heated cheeks as his lips moved over mine. His teeth grazed my bottom lip before he sucked it softly pulling a moan from the back of my throat. Pulling away, he kissed the tip of my nose before resting his forehead against mine. “That was nice,” I said with a smile. “Hell yeah it was.” He grinned down at me. “I know it’s late, but I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” I was more than happy that he couldn’t wait. I was having a hell of a time waiting myself. “How did you know I was coming back to school tomorrow?”

“I harassed your friend Lynn until she told me.” Reaching up, he ran his fingers through my hair sending chills running down the back of my neck and spine. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” “I’m glad you’re here,” I countered. His smile dropped and a serious expression moved over his face as his eyes took me in. “What are you doing to me, Chelsey?” he asked. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” Using his thumb, he tugged my bottom lip out of my teeth. I hadn’t even realized I was nibbling on it again. And then he leaned in and softly sucked the spot where my teeth had been. My stomach grew heavy, and my nipples harden beneath my tank top embarrassing me and making me pull away and cross my arms. His eyes moved down my body and a smile tugged at his lips as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me. I moved over to my bed and sat down, pulling my sheet over my body as if I was cold. He followed behind me and sat at the edge of the bed. “So, how are things at school?” I asked, quickly changing the subject to something safe. “Any idea what we made on the project for Mr. Liam?” He moved in closer, his hand going to my cheek before he moved his thumb over my skin back and forth. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of his roughed skin against mine. Without answering me, he leaned in and kissed me again. His kiss grew frenzied, his tongue delving deep into my mouth as if he couldn’t get enough of me. I kissed him back, matching his tongue and pulling at his shirt without even realizing I was doing so. “I want to take it slow with you,” he murmured against my lips. “But it’s so fucking hard. I want you so bad.” His words made the spot between my thighs throb, and as if he was completely tuned into my body, he reached his hand down and pressed his palm between my legs. The pressure felt amazing, and I gasped at the sensation, making him groan and bit into his own bottom lip. He pulled his hand back, his eyes moving over my face and taking in my expression. “Is it okay if I touch you?” he asked. “I can tell you like it.” “Just on top of my clothes,” I said. And then he leaned over me, slowly pushing me back on my bed. “Deal,” he whispered against my lips. And then he was kissing me again as his hands moved over my thin top and even thinner shorts. I wiggled my legs around unable to stay still, and breathed hard into the dim space around us. The moonlight coming through my window gave me just enough

light to see his icy eyes darken before he moved down and began to slowly kiss my neck and the skin above my chest. His fingers moved down my side and grasped my hip before he slowly brought it around and cupped me between my thighs. Applying pressure with the heel of his hand, he sent waves of pleasure through my body. I dug my heels into my bed and whined at the sweet sensation. Then his hand was gone and he was moving between my legs. He pressed his jean clad thighs against mine, his hardness rubbing right against the sensitive parts of me through my shorts, and before long we were moving together and panting into the air around us. His body felt amazing, and the more he moved his hips and pressed his hardness against me, the louder the noises that pushed past my lips became. “As much as I love those sweet noises, you have to be quiet, baby,” he whispered against my neck. And then he shifted his hips and the slow rise that moved into my stomach exploded. His hand went over my mouth, blocking the loud moans that poured from my mouth, as his hips continued their sweet torture. The roughness of his jeans felt even more abrasive the wetter my shorts became, until finally my shorts were pushed completely to the side and my soaked center was wetting the front of his jeans. When my body started to shake and the sensations were too much, he stopped moving his hips and replaced his hand with his lips. “That was so fucking hot, Little Doe.” He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Did it feel good?” His question sent a blush over my skin and all I could do was nod my answer. It felt better than good. It felt incredible. It felt like nothing I’d ever experienced before—like something I wanted to experience over and over again. Wanting to return the favor, I reached between us and palmed his hardness through his jeans. His body went tense and his head fell to my shoulder as he covered my hand with his. A hiss rushed from his lips against my skin and I felt myself getting started all over again. But then he stopped my hand from moving and placed a soft kiss against my skin. “Tonight was about you, sweet girl,” he whispered. “Let’s save that for another time. I don’t think I can handle your hands on me tonight.” He rolled over to my side, pulling me into his arms and then he kissed my forehead. “But—” I started. “No buts, baby. Maybe next time,” he said. He ran a finger down my shoulder, making my blood boil. “I should probably go,” he said before he moved to sit up. Reaching out, I stopped him. “No. Stay,” I whispered. “At least until I fall asleep.”

His smile was soft before he pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose and snuggled into my neck. My body hummed as I snuggled into Blaine and my comforter. It wasn’t long until sleep came and swept me away.

********** BLAINE BEGAN SPENDING THE NIGHT in my bed every night after that. We never had sex, though. Most nights we’d lay in my bed and talk, but some nights, when I’d let him, he’d kiss me and use his fingers in a wicked way I never knew was possible on my body. I’d wake up every morning with the space next to me empty, only an imprint of him in my pillow and the twinge of happy sensations low in my stomach to remind me he’d been there. As lame as it sounds, I’d always roll over and breathe in the space as if he were still there. It was a strangest thing. After being programmed my entire life to only think about my future and my GPA, spending so much time daydreaming about Blaine made all the difference. I smiled and relaxed more. Things that would stress me out before had little to no effect on me. Even Lynn noticed the changes. “You slept with him didn’t you?” she asked around a granola bar. I bit into my lip to keep from laughing at the expression on her face. “Not yet, but is it weird that I’m considering it?” She snorted. “Um, hell no. Have you seen him lately? He screams sex just walking down the hallway. FYI I’m totally jealous.” I shook my head and chuckled. She was right. Blaine was sexy, and sweet, and just flat out perfect for me. And I knew it wasn’t going to be much longer before I gave him all of myself. As it was, I was sure I was falling in love with him. If I hadn’t already. I had no idea how to tell. All I knew was I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and whenever I saw his smile I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Yes. It was a definite thing. I was falling in love with Blaine.



18 CHELSEY TWO WEEKS WENT BY, and sneaking out with Blaine became the norm. I was actually surprised at how little guilt I felt about it. I didn’t like lying to my parents, but they’d never understand. They could only think about my future, and I knew they’d never see Blaine as a part of that. I wasn’t even sure Blaine saw himself as a part of my future, but I hoped he did. Maybe it was too soon to tell, but I was already carving out a space for him along with Columbia. It was a first for me. Usually it was always college and grades. Now it was college, grades, and Blaine. I couldn’t remember feeling so happy or carefree, and I never wanted the feeling to end. It was like a permanent vacation from reality when I was with him, and we spent every moment possible together. Whether we were in my bed talking, or in the library studying, Blaine made every moment exciting and pleasurable. Sitting at a library table with my face in my textbook, I flinched when I felt something flitter across my shoulder. Looking up at Blaine through my lashes, I found him pretending to read the book he was holding upside down. His lips were rolled into his teeth as he tried to hold back his smile. Picking up the piece of paper he threw at me, I tossed it over my shoulder. “I’m trying to study,” I whispered. We’d been in the public library for all of an hour and I hadn’t gotten more than twenty solid minutes of studying done. Not that I minded, I was becoming used to Blaine’s flirty, playful side. He shut his book and leaned onto the table, his face inches from mine. I smiled as he peeked over my history book, propping his chin on it. “You’re no fun.” He stuck out his bottom lip and pretended to pout. Flattening the book against my chest, I gave him a doubtful look. “You thought I was fun last night.” I flirted as I reminded him of how our clothed bodies moved against each others. I knew he’d done way more with other girls, but I appreciated the fact that he treated me differently—that he was willing to wait until I was absolutely ready, which at the rate

we were going wouldn’t be much longer. He played my body like a fine-tuned instrument, and I was finding it harder and harder to resist and listen to my brain over my body. His expression smoldered, and I could see in his eyes that he was thinking of the night before, as well. “You’re a tease, Chelsey Ford.” He sighed. “We’ve been here forever. Can we go have some more fun now?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “I told you I had to study, Blaine. You’re the one who insisted you wanted to come with. I told you you’d be bored. You should probably be studying, too.” “Why? I’m passing my classes,” he said, resting his chin in his palm. “Passing or barely passing?” “Passing is passing, Chelsey.” Closing my book, I folded my arms over the table and leaned forward. “Have you thought about going to college at all, Blaine?” He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “Not this conversation again.” “It’s never a conversation. You always manage to avoid it.” He smiled and winked at me. “You don’t complain at the time.” I blushed. “Not this time, Blaine.” He sighed and mimicked my position on the table, putting us elbow to elbow and face to face. “Why do you care so much?” His eyes were all over my face. “I want to see you do well. I know how smart you are.” I smiled when I saw the frustration move over his expression. “Don’t worry, I won’t force you. If you’re happy, I’m happy.” His eyes darkened. “No. Please force me, baby,” he flirted. I shook my head and chuckled. “I’m being serious, Blaine.” He sighed. “I know you are, but I also know you’re overloaded with your own school stuff, babe. I don’t want to add to that.” “What? You think I can’t handle it?” I smirked, obviously talking about two things at once. He leaned forward, pressing his soft lips to mine in a quick kiss. “I don’t know. Maybe you should prove you can.” He grinned. The room was getting too hot, my skin too flushed. Quickly, I changed the subject. “Besides, you don’t have to worry about me, Blaine.” And then realization settled over

me. “Wait. Does this mean you’ve been thinking about what you want to do after graduation?” He shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.” He ran his palms over his face. “It’s different with you. You make me want to be better—make me want to change everything I know about myself.” Shock moved through me. I hated that he thought he needed to change anything about himself. Especially since I loved everything that made him Blaine. “Well don’t,” I rushed. “Don’t what?” “Don’t change a thing.” The table creaked beneath him as he moved even closer. “So, you’re into bad boys now, huh?” “No.” I shook my head. “I’m into you. I’m not trying to change you, Blaine.” His hand was warm as it covered my cheek, and he smiled softly at me. “I know. I didn’t think you were. These are my thought, and my feelings. I want to be the kind of guy that deserves to be with you, Chelsey. Because you deserve that much and more from me.” It made me sad to know Blaine felt like he wasn’t good enough for me. “It means more to me than you’ll ever realize that you feel like that way, Blaine, but I want this to be something you do for you and only you.” “I am, but I don’t think I could do it without your help. Are you sure it won’t be too much trouble?” My smile took over my entire face, making my cheeks ache. “It’s not any trouble at all.” I got up and walked around the table, needing to feel his arms around me, and sat in his lap. He smiled and pulled my face down toward his lips. They were firm and soft as they moved over mine, and then his tongue was a warm pressure against the seam of my lips. I opened them freely and his tongue swept the inside of my month, swirling around my own and making me moan in the back of my throat. Someone dropped a book close by and I jumped at the sound. Realizing where we were, I stood and covered my blazing cheeks with my palms. “You’re a bad influence, Blaine Wesley.” “You don’t know the half of it.” His smile was truly wicked. He stood, taking my hand and pulling me toward the back of the library. It was a place I’d never explored, full of books I never found interesting. The space was dim and deserted, giving us the secrecy we desired.

He pulled me around him and pushed my back against the bookcase. The bindings dug into my shoulders and the smell of old, dusty books swirled around me as he covered my body with his until we were touching in every way possible. My thighs clenched together as desire pooled low in my stomach and warm against my panties. “You’re going to get us kicked out of here.” My words came out muffled because his lips were already pressing against mine. “I promise not to get your library card revoked.” And then his tongue was filling my mouth, and his warmth and taste was all I could focus on. Blaine was the master of kissing, and I wasn’t saying that because he was the only boy I’d ever kissed. I couldn’t even imagine finding someone who kissed better than Blaine. I was lost in everything he was, and everything else seemed to fall away as his hands moved down my arms and took my wrists pulling them above my head. He held them there with one hand as the other came down in a delicious pressure along my side. He moved it around my hip and over the curve of my ass, squeezing and pulling me tighter against the hardness that was pressed between my legs. I moaned, and arched harder against him. We’d done our share of making out over the last two weeks, but this was the first time Blaine had taken charge completely—not allowing me to move or fight. It both scared me and excited me. His lips were moving down my neck and his hand was no longer holding my arms up as it moved over my ribcage. He squeezed gently before moving higher and higher. When his hands covered my breasts, I thought I was going to die from the sudden burst of pleasure. His thumbs moved over my hardened nipples at the same time and a burst of hot liquid tingled between my thighs. I didn’t realize I was pushing myself harder against Blaine’s hands until I noticed I could no longer feel the bookcase behind me. My body flushed hotly, and I fell back against the shelf the same time Blaine dropped his hands. We were breathing hard, our chests rising and falling rapidly. His forehead was resting against my collarbone and we stood like that for several seconds. When he finally lifted his head, his icy eyes found mine. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his hand coming up and his thumb sweeping across my bottom lip. “I didn’t mean to get carried away. Are you okay?” “I’m fine, Blaine. You weren’t the only one who got a little crazy.” “I swear I didn’t bring you back here to do that. I only planned on kissing you.” “It’s fine. I’m fine, promise.”

He nodded. “Good.” He placed an innocent kiss on the tip of my nose and then another against my lips. I knew he didn’t trust himself any more than I trusted myself to deepen the kiss. His hand found mine and he pulled me through the library back to our spot so I could get my books and bag. An hour later, he was dropping me off a block from my house. Forging teacher’s notes had become his specialty, and we didn’t want my parents catching on to what we were doing. We followed certain steps every time we did something together, and I hated that I had to sneak around with him. He was worth so much more to me. “I’m sorry you have to drop me off here and not at my door like a real couple.” I gripped my hands in my lap and squeezed my fingers together. Reaching over, he lifted my chin and softly smiled. “Hey, I understand. It is what it is, right?” I nodded. “I just don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of you because I’m not. I’d tell my parents right now if you wanted me to. I just know they’d make it next to impossible to see each other if I did.” He took my hand and brought it up to his lips. “I know, Little Doe. We have a good thing going here. I don’t want anything to ruin it.” I smiled, his breath making my fingers tingle “Me either.” I gathered my stuff, hating all the moments when I had to leave him, and moved to get out. He stopped me. “You want to do something on Saturday?” he asked. Exhilaration surged through me. “Sure. Like what?” His grin grew evil and I was almost afraid of his answer. “I have a few things in mind.” I pouted. “That’s not very nice, Blaine.” “Nope.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. I melted as usual. “But it sure is fun,” he muttered against my mouth. I laughed. Cupping his cheek, I deepened the kiss and lost my fingers in his dark hair. His finger lingered down my cheek before moving over the soft skin of my neck. And then he pulled away and pressed his forehead against mine. “Goodnight, Chelsey.” “Goodnight, Blaine.”



19 BLAINE I WORKED MY COCK with my eyes closed and thoughts of Chelsey and her tiny moans replaying in my mind. Jacking off in the shower had become something I was doing twice a day now. I could’ve easily picked up a random piece around town, but even thinking about being with someone who wasn’t Chelsey made me feel sick. I pressed my face against the cold tile and gritted my teeth together as I unloaded in my palm. My balls tightened almost painfully as the pleasure seeped from my body warming my fingers as it spilled through them. Catching my breath, I rested the back of my head against the wall and chuckled softly to myself. I hadn’t gone so long without sex since the first time I’d fucked a girl. Sneaking into Chelsey’s bed every night and pleasuring her was fucking amazing, but it was taking its toll on me physically. Don’t get me wrong, she tried to touch me—tried to return the favor, but I knew there was only so much I could take and I was way past the point of being okay with a simple hand job. After my shower, I stopped by Jay’s for a bit, killing time until it was late enough to go to Chelsey, and then I drove across town. I parked my car a few houses down, and walked to her house. A tiny light glowed in her window and I knew she was up waiting for me. I smiled. I couldn’t help it. Something had changed within me. I couldn’t get enough of her. She was all I thought about. I’d even gone as far as telling my mom about her, which I never did. Needless to say, I’d promised my parents I’d bring Chelsey by to meet them at some point. It was the strangest thing to have such strong feelings for a person. So much so that I was willing to bring her into my world even though I knew she’d stick out like a beacon of light in hell. I scaled the tree outside Chelsey’s window, and then crept across the roof. Her window was open for me and the curtains were billowing out into the heated, Georgia breeze. Stepping up to the window, I stood there and watched as she leaned over her desk and read a book. She had a glasses on, which was a major fucking turn on for me. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, her cute toes peeking over the edge of the chair, and she

twirled a piece of hair between two fingers as her wide eyes took in the words of her book. Whatever she was reading was exciting. I loved Chelsey. I had yet to tell her, but it was definitely love I felt. I couldn’t pinpoint an exact reason why I loved her. It was a multitude of things. Like the way her eyes widened in excitement, or the soft smile she’d give me when I did something to please her. Her love for books, and the way she always saw the best in me—even when deep down I knew I had no real redeemable qualities. She was so good inside and out—unflawed and completely perfect in my eyes. She was so sweet and kind, and so fucking smart. She made me a better person—even my parents had made comments on the difference. I was better with her. Period. More than anything, I loved making her happy. That was the biggest reason I knew I loved her. Most of my life I’d been a selfish prick—the only people I ever cared about pleasing was my family. But now there was Chelsey, and I did everything I could to make her happy. She set her book to the side, and picked up an envelope from her desk. Pulling out the letter inside, her eyes took it in and a look of pure happiness moved over her face. Just as quickly as it came, it went, and a frown took its place. “What’s wrong?” I asked from my spot at the window. She gasped and dropped the letter. It floated like a feather to the ground. She moved toward the window, leaving the letter on the floor and kissed me sweetly after I climbed into her room. Her lips warmed mine and she gripped the front of my shirt as if she never wanted to let me go. I loved how wanted she made me feel. It wasn’t anything like the other girls. Chelsey didn’t want my cock, she wanted me. God, I loved her so much. I reached up and ran a finger across her face, loving that the frown from earlier was gone and a beautiful smile was lighting up her face. “I missed you,” she whispered. I chuckled at her cuteness and kissed the tip of her nose. “We just saw each other at school eight hours ago, sweetie.” “I don’t care. I missed you.” My heart surged with devotion and love. The words danced on my lips begging to be spoken into the room around us, but the fear of freaking her out and losing her was stronger. I tucked her hair behind her ears, before capturing her cheeks in my palms and claiming her lips. She moaned into my mouth and my cock grew. I stepped away from her and took a deep breath. “Don’t,” she said, moving closer and rubbing against me.

Love will make you do some crazy shit. Backing away from Chelsey when she was practically begging me for it was the craziest. I smiled down at her, still amazed by the fact that she was mine, and then I kissed her nice and hard the way I knew she liked it. Pulling away, I gave her one final chaste kiss on the lips and pressed my forehead to hers as I breathed her in. “So, what’s with the letter on the floor?” I asked. Her body tensed in my arms and her smile looked forced. “It’s nothing.” “Why do I feel like you’re lying to me, Little Doe?” She stepped out of my arms and turned toward the paper on the floor. Swiping it up, she tucked it in the top drawer of her desk. “I’m not. Seriously, it’s nothing.” She was hiding something from me and I didn’t like it. I was so open with Chelsey. Other than the fact that I was totally in love with her, I told her everything. Pulling her back into my arms, I ran my hands down her back. “Don’t do that.” “Don’t do what?” Her eyes gave away her anxiety as she put her arms around my neck and attempted to kiss away my concern. I pulled back, keeping her at a distance so I didn’t get lost in her and forget, which I knew she was working toward. “Don’t hide things from me. I want us to be open about everything. I tell you everything, Chelsey. Whatever it is, I can handle it.” She put her head down and nodded, before she pulled away and went to her desk drawer, pulling out the letter. Her eyes watered a bit when she handed it over and I felt her sadness in my chest. Opening the letter, I looked it over and read each word carefully. It was an acceptance letter for Chelsey from Columbia University. “I got in,” she whispered sadly. I wasn’t surprised by the fact that she’d gotten in. Hell, Chelsey was a fucking genius. As far as I was concerned, Columbia was lucky to have her, not the other way around. But I was surprised by her lack of enthusiasm about it. I held the letter up, my smile making my cheeks ache. “This is so great, baby. Congratulations,” I said, pulling her to me. She melted against my body and buried her face into my shirt. “I knew you’d get in, but why do you seem so unhappy about it?” Stepping away from me, she went and sat on her bed. I followed. “Columbia’s in New York,” she stated. I knew that, but still, I didn’t understand why that would make her unhappy. “Yeah. And?” I asked, honestly confused by her reaction.

Again, her eyes watered. “Columbia’s in New York, and you’re not.” And then her words settled into my core, burning me from within. Chelsey’s walls were covered in all things Columbia University. It was her future—her number one goal in life. She’d been planning for Columbia for as long as she could remember, and I knew it was the one thing she wanted in the world more than anything. And yet, she was sad to receive her acceptance letter because she didn’t want to leave me. Me. I was a piece of shit. I was no one and I’d never be anyone or anything special. Chelsey was going to go into the world and make a difference. She was going to take Columbia by storm, and when she was done, she’d spend her life saving people—making other’s lives better. That’s what my girl was all about. She was selfless and beautiful, and she was mine. Without a second thought, I moved into her, my lips clashing with hers as I breathed her in and tasted everything she was—everything she’d ever be. And when I pulled away, and the words I’d been dying to say to her pushed against the back of my teeth, I opened my mouth and let them out. “I love you, Chelsey. More than anything in this world. If you go to New York, I go to New York. Because wherever you are, that’s where I want to be. Always.” And I meant it. Her face went pale briefly, sending me into a panic that maybe I’d said the wrong thing, but then her eyes watered again, and a tear finally escaped and rushed down her cheek. When she fell into my arms, her momentum pushed me onto my back. She climbed over me, catching my cheeks in her palms and kissing me harder than ever before. “I love you, too,” she whispered against my lips. Her words solidified everything that felt good in my soul when I was with her. We were in love. It was a first for me, and I knew no matter what, Chelsey would also be my last.

********** “I HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU,” I said, lifting her hand and kissing her knuckles. Her face turned pink as she smiled down at me. “I love your surprises.” When I came up, I kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and then her lips. “Good because I love you.” It was Chelsey’s eighteenth birthday, and I’d spent the entire week before planning for

our night together. It took a good bit of lying on her part and some help from her friend Lynn, but Chelsey was able to get out for the night. She had to be home by ten, but that gave me plenty of time to take her out and then sneak back into her room later. She sat on the passenger’s side of my car in her jeans, a camouflage T-shirt I’d bought for her, and a pair of thick boots I’d made her promise to wear. Her hair was in a ponytail and her face was partially covered by the bill of the hat she wore. She looked good enough to eat. So normal. So not like the rich girl she was. She looked out at the world we passed, her hand warming mine as I held it in between us. I’d never been so happy in all my life. Everything was coming together, and for once, I was able to see a bright future. We were driving a county over, which meant it took us thirty minutes to get to where I was taking her. The minute we pulled up, and she was able to hear the loud engines of the trucks and four-wheelers, I saw happiness move over her face. It was unconventional to take a girl to a mud run, but my Chelsey wasn’t like most girls. I could remember how carefree and happy she’d looked that night on the field before she lost control of the four-wheeler. She was loving it, and I wanted her to feel that way again, but while being safe with me. “I hope you’re ready to get muddy,” I said, smiling over at her. She unbuckled and threw herself across the car and into my arms. “I love this. Thank you so much for bringing me here.” I chuckled and kissed her softly. “Don’t thank me yet. First let’s go get dirty.” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively at her, earning myself another beautiful smile. “Let’s,” she said, grabbing my cheeks and kissing me once more before climbing from my car and sinking her boots into the Georgia mud I knew she loved.





20 CHELSEY THE MUD RUN BLAINE TOOK ME to for my birthday was nothing like the tiny, muddy area on the field at the party. It was so much better. And even though I still had a hint of fear of the four-wheeler, excitement filled me at the thought of playing in the mud with Blaine. Still, it was a whole different world. There were huge mud pits, and while there were a few four-wheelers playing in the mud, there were mostly huge trucks with massive tires racing each other in the pits to see which truck was big enough and strong enough to make it the furthest. While most girls would’ve hated it, I loved it. The mud, the trucks, the engines, and the wild groups of people who cheered for their favorite truck—it was all so titillating. It was the carefree craziness I needed in my life, except this time I’d be safe. I knew Blaine would never let me get hurt. He loved me. He said it all the time, and I knew when I looked in his eyes, he meant it. Everything was falling into place. I’d been accepted into Columbia, and Blaine agreed to go with me. We even went as far as applying to the technical college close by Columbia for him. I’d never been more proud of him for that. He was getting serious about his future. Or should I say our future. We spent the afternoon drinking Mountain Dew, and essentially playing in the mud like a bunch of kids. Blaine taught me how to properly drive a four-wheeler and held me close to his chest as I took us for a spin through one of the pits. It was amazing. No. It was beyond amazing. I’d never had so much fun in my life. “Are you sure you want to get in your car like this?” I asked, referring to the fact that we were both covered in mud from head to toe. “I got it covered,” he said, as he stuck his key in the trunk and popped it open. Inside there were big, black garbage bags. I stood to the side and watched as Blaine smoothed out bags over his seat and floorboard. “Your carriage, my lady,” he joked with the swoop of his hand. He held the passenger’s side door open for me and had the biggest, happiest smile on

his face. Instead of climbing into this car, I went into his arms. Muddy clothes against muddy clothes. His arms came around me as he held me close. “I love you so much, Blaine. Thank you for this,” I said into his chest. Lifting my chin, he placed a soft kiss on my lips. “I love you, too, Chelsey. I only want to make you happy, baby.” As it did when he spoke to me that way, my heart did a flip in my chest. It was still early when we left and I was surprised when we pulled up at a restaurant instead of going straight home considering we were both dirty and muddy. “We can’t go in there, Blaine. Look at us,” I said. He reached behind the seat and pulled up a bag, tossing it into my lap. “Lynn sent some clothes for you. Let’s go in there, clean up, and change,” he said as he reached behind his seat for another bag with his clothes inside. “You’re joking, right?” It wasn’t an expensive restaurant, but still, it was going to be embarrassing as hell to go inside looking the way I did. “I’m serious. I’ve never taken you to dinner, Chelsey. I’m your boyfriend. Let me take you on a date.” And just like that, I didn’t care about who was inside the restaurant or what we looked like. We held hands when we stepped inside, all eyes on us, and then we parted ways at the door to go to the bathroom and clean up. I peeled my muddy clothes from my body and used the empty bag to store them. Then I cleaned myself up the best I could with wet paper towels and dressed in the fresh clothes. There was still mud in my hair, and I’m sure a few other places, but it would have to do. We ate dinner together for the first time and laughed like the young couple we were. The waiter brought a cupcake to the table for my birthday and when we got back in the car, Blaine gave me my present. “You’ve already given me so much today. I don’t need anything else, Blaine,” I said when he pulled out the tiny, pink box with my name on it. “I want you to have this, Chelsey. Happy birthday, baby.” Slowly, I peeled the paper from the box revealing a small ring box. I swallowed hard and popped the lid open. Nestled inside was a simple silver ring with tiny crushed diamonds all the way around it. It was beautiful. “It’s perfect,” I said, pulling it from the box and slipping it on my finger. “One day, when I’m everything you deserve, I’ll buy you another one and make you mine forever. Until then, there’s this.” His took my hand and ran his finger over the ring.

“It’s a promise to you that no matter what, I’ll always love you.” Tears sprang to my eyes and the words I wanted to say got caught in my throat. I nodded my understanding and leaned in to kiss him.

********** WE HELD HANDS ALL THE WAY back to my house. It was only nine by the time we got to my neighborhood, which meant I technically had an hour to burn. But the quicker I got ready for bed and settled in, the quicker I could snuggle for the rest of the night with Blaine. He parked a few doors down from my house as usual when it was time to take me home. I unbuckled and moved over the seat to his side to give him a kiss. “Thanks again for today. It was the best birthday I’ve ever had.” His rough fingers moved over my cheek and his eyes consumed mine. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you had fun.” And then he pushed his fingers into my hair and pulled my face to his for a kiss. I kissed him back, my tongue swirling with his. His other hand moved around my hips and then he grasped my ass before moving away from me. Strain moved across his expression and his lips tightened. Instead of letting him push me away and drive off, I moved back in and kissed him some more. I slid my hand down his chest and under his shirt to feel his abdominal muscles. He pulled back a bit before moving back in and kissing me even harder than before. His hands dug into my hair before he moved them down grabbing my hips and pulling me closer to him. And then just that fast, he pulled back and took a deep breath. I was sick to death with stopping. My body was strung so tight I feared I was ready to pop at any point. I moved closer to him again, but when I tried to kiss him, he gave me a pop kiss and cleared his throat. I pinched his chin between two fingers and forced him to look me in the eye. “I don’t want you to stop,” I bravely said. His throat worked up and down as he swallowed. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” I chuckled. “I’m not completely ignorant to this stuff, Blaine. I know what I’m saying.” I cupped his cheek. “I’m saying don’t stop.”

“Not here. Not like this, baby,” he said. The strain in his voice was thick—his cheeks flushed. Insecurity settled in. We’d been sleeping in the same bed for a while, and every time things got hot and heavy Blaine would always pull away. It was beginning to take its toll on me. “You don’t want me?” His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. “You didn’t seriously just ask me that.” “I did. I mean, if you don’t want to—” I started. He settled a finger over my lips stopping me. His eyes moved over my face and a tiny smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Chelsey, you have no idea how bad I want you. Trust me. It’s been hell. But when it happens it should be in a warm bed, not on the seat of my car. I don’t want to rush it or have to keep you quiet because your parents are down the hallway. When I’m finally inside you, I want you to break apart loudly. I want you to do it without restraint.” I swallowed hard, his words heating the space between my thighs. “I disagree,” I said, moving my leg over his and straddling him. “I know how much you love this car, Blaine. I can’t think of a better place to give myself to you than right here.” He went hard beneath me, pressing into my center and liquefying me. “Chelsey?” he rasped. “Yes, Blaine?” I thrust my hips, riding along his length and biting into my lip at the pleasure that bloomed inside my panties. He hissed. His breathing getting harder and the window beside us becoming foggy. His fingers dug into my hips and he pulled me down onto him while lifting his hips and pressing himself into me. Lying my head back, I sighed at the way he felt between my legs. “This is wrong,” he said, thrusting his hips once more. “It’s not. It’s so right. Oh my God, so right.” I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feel of him rubbing against me through our clothes. But I’d had enough of that. I wanted more. I wanted all of him. I wanted him to take away the ache that had only intensified over the last few weeks. “I want you, Blaine. Right here. Right now.’ Lifting me by my hips, he set me off of him and slowly pressed my back onto the bench seat. I’d never been happier with old cars and the fact they didn’t have bucket seats like newer cars. His body moved over mine as he pressed his lips against mine and kissed me hard as if he couldn’t get enough. Things moved fast and I loved every second of it. His hand moved under my shirt and palmed my breast through my bra. My nipples

tingled and begged for skin to skin action. Leaning up, I ripped my shirt from my body and tossed it to the floorboard. Blaine pulled away and looked down at my body before he bit into his lip, growled softly, and started kissing me again. I pulled his shirt up and lost my hands underneath, running my nails up and down the length of his back. His skin was hot and smooth, and when he moved his muscles rippled beneath my touch. Moving from my lips, he buried his face in my neck and softly sucked the skin there. I tilted my head, giving him more room, and dug my fingers into his hips pulling him into me. A whimper slipped from me, earning another tiny growl from Blaine. “I want you so bad, Chelsey,” he said against my skin. “I’m yours. I’m all yours.” He pushed my bra to the side, my breast popping out, and then he covered my nipple with his mouth and sucked. My back lifted from the leather seat as I arched into his mouth. Tugging at the bottom of his shirt, he lifted and let me pull it from his body. The car was dark and I wished I could see his body. I dug my nails into his back as he moved back down and continued sweetly torturing my nipples with this tongue. He reached down between us and began unzipping my jeans. Soon I felt cool hair touch the skin right above my panties. I dug the back of my head into the seat when he began to move his hands down into my panties. His finger swept across my clit and I let the noises spill from my lips without worry about my parents hearing me. “I love those fucking noises you’re making. They make me so hard.” And then he was pulling my jeans down my legs, taking my panties with them. Deep down I knew I should’ve been nervous. I was about to have sex for the first time, but all I could feel was the things he was doing to my body and the sweet ache that was making me crazy with want. I pulled my legs from my jeans when he rolled them down my ankles and then he was on top of me again, his body and jeans rubbing against my naked skin like never before. “I wish I could see your body. I want to see how beautiful you are,” he said. Then his lips were on mine and the car heated around us to an almost suffocating degree. I lifted my hips from the seat, rubbing against him like an animal and he chuckled against my lips. Reaching between us, I pulled at the button on his jeans. “Now, Blaine. Please,” I whispered as he went to work kissing and nibbling on the

side of my neck. He reached between us, unzipping and unbuttoning his jeans, before he pushed them down his hips. The heat of his hardness pressed against the inside of my thigh making me feel ever hotter. I reached between us, and ran my fingers down his hot length. He felt huge—hard and swollen—and briefly I thought about how much it would hurt when he put it inside me. He hissed. “Fuck, baby.” Then his body pressed against mine and he adjusted himself at my entrance and stopped, the pressure almost driving me crazy. “Chelsey?” I knew what he was asking me. He still wasn’t sure I was positive I knew what I was doing. Instead of answering, I lifted my hips and pulled down on him, begging him with my body to enter me. And then he did. It was swift and hard, and it sucked all the oxygen and noise from my body. He cut through me like a hot knife and I gasped from the shock of the pain. He went still, seated deep inside of me, and I’d never felt so full in my life. “Chelsey?” He voice was strained. “Baby, are you okay?” I couldn’t speak, so I nodded my answer even though I knew he couldn’t really see me. “Do you want to stop?” I could tell by the tenseness of his body and the stress in his voice that it was taking everything he had not to move—not to feel the pleasure I knew my body could give him. I reached up and ran my fingers over his cheeks, wishing I could see his eyes better. “No. Please don’t stop.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine as he pulled from my body and pushed back in again. Again, the pain was there, but this time it wasn’t as bad. I closed my eyes and kissed him back, trying to lose myself in the moment. He continued. Pulling out and pushing back in slowly, until finally there was no pain. He lifted my thigh up over his hip, going even deeper and making me gasp at the intense pressure between my legs. “I love you, Chelsey,” he breathed against my lips. His speed picked up, and the pressure in my lower stomach began to unravel. Noises I didn’t realize I was making pushed past my lips and Blaine bit down on a curse as he buried his face in my neck and sucked. Tension climbed down my spine, and reached into my hips as something deep and primal gripped me. It wasn’t long until I was lifting my hips and meeting his thrusts and

whispering his name over and over again. Leaning on his elbow, he used his other hand to capture my face and kiss me hard. I tried to kiss him back, but I couldn’t. The feeling was too intense and my breath was rushed and heated. “Yes. Please, Blaine. Don’t stop. It feels so good. Don’t stop.” He pushed me harder, his frame pressing mine deep into the seat as he took my body and made me feel things I’d never felt before. “That’s it, baby. You’re almost there,” he mumbled. And then I exploded around him. My body took over as I screamed out his name along with some other things I’d probably never remember. I latched onto his body and rode the wave of pleasure that washed over me. His speed was the fastest it had been yet and when I moved my fingers over his back it was drenched with sweat. With my name on his lips, his body went tense and he slammed into me one final time pressing up and holding as if he wanted to climb inside me and never leave. “Mine,” he whispered against my lips before he kissed me long and soft.





21 BLAINE LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE, SEX with Chelsey was different. My heart was in it, and I focused more on her pleasure than my own. I didn’t want her first time to be terrible, even though it took everything I had to keep up my stamina and not come as soon as I entered her. She felt amazing. So fucking amazing. It wasn’t until I was unloading inside of her that I realized we hadn’t used a condom. I’d never gone bareback with a girl before, but I was glad it was my Chelsey. I felt all of her—her wetness and her heat—she enveloped me completely, taking all I was and giving me her all. And when she came all over my cock and screamed out my name, it was the final straw. Her body clenched around mine and pulled me right over the edge with her. It was in the front seat of my car parked on the side of the road, but it was still beautiful. I’d never be able to sit in my car without thinking of her ever again. “We didn’t use a condom,” I said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “We have to be more careful next time.” She mumbled a response and snuggled into me. That night, when I snuck into Chelsey’s room, we did it again… condom included. It was soft and slow since she was still sore, but it was just as amazing as the first time. Afterward, I held her close to me all night while she slept against my side. The following Monday, I floated around school like a little bitch boy. The weekend between Chelsey and I had officially changed everything between us. She gave me a part of herself that only helped to insure me that she’d always be mine. The week flew by in a haze of happiness with me sneaking into her room and making love to her until our bodies couldn’t go anymore and we’d pass out. I’d wake up just in time to leave before her parents got up, and then I’d see her in school. I’d never been so happy in all my life and it was all thanks to Chelsey. On Thursday, when I got home from work, my mom handed me my mail when I went into the kitchen for something to eat.

“What’s this?’ I asked, holding up the envelope as I shoved a sandwich in my mouth. “No clue. Did you apply to college?” My mom asked, a smile tugging at her lips and surprise in her eyes. Dropping the sandwich to my plate, I picked up the letter and ripped it open quickly, praying it was the answer I’d been waiting for—praying I’d make Chelsey happy with the fact that I’d gotten accepted into the technical college close to Columbia. Then the letter was in front of me, and my eyes moved over the thick, bold font. Everything stopped as the word accepted bounced off the page. I’d done it. I’d been accepted into a school—a school close to where Chelsey would be. I wasn’t sure what I was more excited about—the fact that I’d be going to college and was able to get grants to pay for it, or the fact that I’d be with Chelsey when she left. Excitement moved through me and I lunged for the phone to call her, but then I thought about it and I knew my news was something I wanted to tell her face to face. It would be hell, but I was going to wait until I was lying in bed with her later. Maybe I’d tell her after I climbed inside her and made her come over and over again. Either way, I wanted it to be special. Me and my girl were leaving together. We were going to get a place together, and I’d work on the side and take care of us. I could hardly wait to start my life with Chelsey. “You got in?” my mom said over my shoulder. I’d forgotten she was even there. “Bill, Blaine’s going to college,” she called into the living room to my dad before she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you, son.” My dad came around the corner with my sister, Maddie, in his arms. “What’s going on? My mom went to him and threw her arms around his neck. “Blaine’s going to college. He got accepted to some college in New York.” My dad looked over at me as if he was just seeing me for the first time. I’d never told him anything about college except for the fact that I wasn’t going, but I could tell I’d made my parents proud and that made me feel good. “Don’t worry about cooking tonight, baby,” he said to my mom. “We’re going out and celebrating.”

********** DINNER WITH MY FAMILY was every bit the celebration they promised. We stuffed ourselves with steak at the local steakhouse, and tossed our peanut shells on the floor like everyone around us. Maddie got a kick out of that. It wasn’t often she was allowed to throw things on the floor.

After we ate, my parents even embarrassed the hell out of me by having a waiter bring out a special piece of cake. Maddie clapped happily after I let her blow out the single candle on top. It was cute how excited they were. No one in our family had ever gone to college, and I was changing that. Chelsey made it so. It was a great time. It was rare that we went out to dinner as a family. Money was tight and my mom loved to cook. Even though I was having a blast and marking the moment in my memories, I kept wishing my girl was there with us to celebrate. I could hardly wait to get to her and tell her—to see the happiness it would bring her. We climbed into my mom’s minivan—me in the back with my little sister, Maddie, and then we left to go home. I kept checking the time, waiting until I could get in my car and go to Chelsey. My dad was driving while singing to the oldies and constantly checking the rearview mirror for Maddie’s reaction to his silly voices. My mom was laughing, her eyes lighting up in her happiness, as she looked back at me and my sister with a smile. Between my parents’ happiness and Maddie’s sweet giggles, the smile forced on my lips made my cheeks ache. Life was good, and for once in my life I was looking forward to my future. I was lucky. We didn’t have much, but I had a family that loved me unconditionally. I had a mother and a father who still loved each other like teenagers, and a sister who had stars in her eyes every time she looked at me. Thing couldn’t get much better for me. And then time shifted, and my world crumbled around me. I saw headlights and heard the crunch of metal against metal. The world spun out of control—trees and other cars blurring into a mix of colors—and then everything stopped abruptly and the world around us went black. Silence banged against my brain, and pain radiated through my thoughts. The smell of gas and oil moved in, and I knew something wasn’t right. Opening my eyes, I was met with total darkness. I blinked away the dark until slowly things began to blur before my eyes. Everything came into focus, colors exploding in my vision until I could see. Turning toward Maddie, pain shot down my neck and into my back making me gasp. And then my eyes settled on my sister’s face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open with a tiny bit of blood dripping from her lips. Understanding of what happened slipped into my foggy mind, and I went into protector mode. I moved toward her, but the pain in my chest stopped me. Moving past the pain, I attempted to get to her once more only to realize the seatbelt was locked tightly around me. It cut into my chest, burning my skin beneath my T-shirt. “Maddie,” I rasped, my voice broken and whispered. I pulled at the seatbelt like a crazed man, the muscles in my arms feeling like putty. I wanted to get to my sister. I needed to help her. She was so small, so helpless, and I was her protector. I’d always take care of her and help her.

It was then I remembered my parents were with us, and I realized neither of them were making any noise. I tugged hard at the seatbelt, it digging into my fingers until I felt as if they were going to bleed. My family. I needed to help my family. A choking noise sounded from the front seat, breaking my heart and pushing me to pull harder at the seatbelt, but I couldn’t get out. I was stuck. I felt like I couldn’t breathe as the darkness settled around me. The choking noise in the front seat grew louder and more frantic before it abruptly stopped. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but I was happy it wasn’t haunting me anymore. I slowed my racing thoughts and halted my panic long enough to remember my knife. I carried it with me always. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my pocket knife, flicked it open, and began sawing into the seatbelt. Once I sawed through it, I was released. And then I was falling onto the roof of the van. We were upside down—my entire world was reversed. I landed on my hands and knees, and my lungs screamed in pain as I struggled to get in a deep breath. I slid across the roof of the van, pain striking every movement, as I got closer and closer to Maddie. And then she was there staring back at me—her eyes meeting mine. I watched as a lonely tear moved down her cheek. “Baine,” she struggled to cry out. Her voice was broken, her lips cracked and bleeding making me feel crazy. Reaching out, I laid my hand over her arm. “I’m here, Maddie Bear. Baine is here.” The stench of blood filled my senses, making my stomach roll and twist. The silence from the front seat was deafening and then sirens pierced the quiet. Lights filled the van, shining in and allowing me to see Maddie’s sweet face clearly. Taking advantage of the light, I turned toward the front seat and instantly wished I hadn’t. My father’s face came into focus—his dead eyes staring back at me—taunting me and marking themselves in my memory. I swallowed hard, and tears filled my eyes once again blurring everything around me. “Dad?” I knew when I called out to him he wouldn’t be answering me back. The way his head was lying wasn’t natural. His neck wasn’t supposed to turn that way. I moved to see my mom, but Maddie’s tiny hand moved into mine and stopped me. “Stay, Baine. Don’t go,” she cried. And I couldn’t leave her. No matter how badly I wanted to rebel against the pain that radiated throughout my body and check on my mom, I couldn’t move.

The space around me began to blur and darken. The corners of my vision shifted and moved unnaturally. Shadow demons moved in the blinking lights that flashed into the car and I was sure it was the devil coming to swoop me away. It was my time. I was slowly fading away. Squeezing Maddie’s hand, I took another breath filling my lungs with pins and needles. “I’m not leaving you, Maddie. I’m here,” I lied. And then the black and silence moved in, shutting out the world, and shoving me into the unknown. I was sure when I closed my eyes, I’d never open them again. Chelsey was my final thought.



22 CHELSEY I STARED AT MYSELF IN THE MIRROR, pulling on the material of my simple, black dress, but it was useless. No matter how much I tugged, it wasn’t going to get any longer. I twisted to the side, and inspected the length of my dress from another angle. I didn’t know why my mother thought it needed to be hemmed so short, but it wasn’t the first time I didn’t understand my mother’s reasoning for something. My thighs began to itch as the stiff tulle rubbed against my skin with every twist and turn. It only managed to add to my annoyance for the night and the impromptu dinner party my parents were hosting that I just had to attend. I could think of a hundred things I could be doing and ninety-nine of them had to do with Blaine. I sighed to myself at just the thought of his name. I wasn’t sure if it was normal to think about one person so much, but he was always on my mind. Digging away at my conscious and turning my body into something I never knew existed. The thoughts of our week together and my first time flushed my cheeks, making my body tingle with the need to feel his touch. My body felt different to me now. I felt fuller in places I hadn’t before and everything was more sensitive—heightened to the point that even the lace on my bra felt good against my nipples. I ran my hands over my breasts and down over my hips. Closing my eyes I imagined my hands were Blaine’s. My thighs trembled slightly and my nipples hardened. I was shocked at how easily turned on I could get just by my thoughts alone. Sex and love had never been a strong focal point in my life until I met Blaine and it seemed to awaken something inside of me I couldn’t control. Honestly, even if I could control it, I wasn’t sure I’d want to. I liked who I was when I was with Blaine. He brought out the real Chelsey and I liked her. Blaine turned me into a girl who didn’t have to play the part of pleasing anyone. He loved me for me. I could be natural—carefree and happy. I could be the girl I was destined to be. There was a knock on my door, breaking me from my thoughts and dropping my smile instantly. A pause followed the knock and I knew it wasn’t one of my parents. My mother and father weren’t against barging in.

“Come in,” I called out. The door opened slightly revealing Hilary, one of my mother’s assistants. She popped her head in and gave me a warm smile. Of all my mother’s assistants, Hilary was by far my favorite. “Wow,” she said, her eyes moving over my dress. “You look so grown up. That dress —” Her eyes found mine. “Is absolutely ridiculous,” I finished for her as I turned toward the mirror again. “It’s not,” she promised. “I know it wouldn’t have been your first choice, but you look absolutely stunning.” My gaze drifted from hers to my own in the mirror. I was tempted to take it off and put on something more comfortable. I didn’t feel like being my parent’s walking, talking trophy tonight. I wasn’t in the mood and my jeans were calling my name. My thoughts shocked me. I’d never been so defiant before. In fact, the last four years I’d done nothing but try to please my parents in every possible way. Columbia was my dream, had been for as long as I could remember, but was it my dream because it was what my parents wanted? I wanted to go Columbia more than anything, but I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d still want it if they hadn’t pushed me so hard. It was pointless thinking about it because I knew in the end, it didn’t change anything. My father went to Columbia, and so did his father. It was bred in me to attend, but honestly, I wanted it for myself, as well. Hilary cleared her throat and I blinked, bringing her back into focus. I’d almost forgotten she was there until now. “I’m sorry,” I said, shaking the daze from my head. “I was lost in thought.” “I could see that. Anything you want to talk about?” I smiled at her and shook my head. “I’m good, but thank you. I’m sorry. I know my mother probably has a million things for you to do, is she requesting my presence?” Hilary nodded. “Guests are already starting to arrive, and she’d like you down there to greet them with your father and her.” “Of course she would.” I sighed, letting my shoulders sag in defeat. “Let’s get this over with.” Hilary led the way down to the foyer and like the good girl I was, I followed. I almost didn’t recognize the room as we entered. My mother had definitely gone all out for this dinner, and I wondered what the occasion was. Lights glittered off the champagne glasses as the servers passed with their trays, and soft, classical music played in the background. My eyes took it all in and I knew regardless of what I wanted, my night was going to be a long one full of false smiles and

boring conversation. My father spotted me first and he smiled, stepping back as I came to a standstill on the bottom step. “You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said. The look in his eyes told me he wasn’t at all pleased with the length of my dress. “Doesn’t she, darling?” he said to my mother, giving her a look that said they’d be discussing my outfit later. I wondered if she’d lie and tell him I insisted on shortening the dress or if she’d tell the truth. My parents seemed happy, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard them argue, but that didn’t mean anything. If nothing else, they knew how to keep up appearances. My mother pulled out the stops in her show-stopping, gold dress and my father’s suit was pressed to perfection. They looked every bit the rich couple in love. “Of course she does,” my mother responded, her eyes filling with happiness at seeing me. “Just like her mother,” my father said, kissing my mother’s cheek. “Thank you,” I mumbled. I took the last step and stood in line with my parents greeting guests like we were royalty. “Why all the glitz and glam for this dinner party?” I asked in between smiles, nods, and waves. “Didn’t your mother tell you who the guests of honors are tonight?” my father asked out of the corner of his mouth as he absently shook hands with a man who looked kind of familiar I shook my head and gave out my twentieth smile. “George Hill and his family will be joining us tonight.” His eyes moved over my face as he gaged my reaction. “George Hill? As in the mayor, George Hill?” I asked. My father nodded his answer as he shook hands with another passerby. “Why?” I asked, earning myself a sharp look from my mother. “I mean, we’re not very political people.” Again, I was given another warning look from my mother. “George announced that he won’t be running again and said he’d be happy to help profit a campaign if I was interested in running.” That surprised me and I looked from my father and then to my mother. I had a feeling this had more to do with her than my father. “Is that something you want, Dad?”

“I’m not sure yet, but that’s why he’s coming over tonight. Your mother seems to think it’s a good idea.” Of course she does, I thought. “Why does it feel like you’re both depending on me?” I had the sudden desire to leave the line and run away from all the crazy the night was sure to bring. My father chuckled, kissing my mother’s cheek. “We’re not, darling.” “He’s here,” my mother said, pulling away from my father and smoothing her dress. I looked towards the door where Hilary was giving my mother the signal and rolled my eyes with a sigh. My father had never been interested in running in anything, so I had no doubt this was my mother’s doing. She was never satisfied with anything. She always wanted more, and my father had always been more than willing to make her happy in any way possible. My father squeezed my hand and winked at me when I looked over at him. He wasn’t going to argue with my mother and I couldn’t exactly blame him when I didn’t either. Arguing with her was pointless most times and usually led to nothing. She always got her way. Mayor George Hill walked in with his wife on his arm and moved through the room like he owned the world. And then he moved toward us and my attention focused on the two people following behind them. My stomach rolled and turned when Josh’s eyes met mine. He smiled like he didn’t have a care in the world, and his eyes moved over my body and down to my bare legs. I felt nauseated just imagining the things he was thinking. I hadn’t seen him since the first and last time we’d gone out. I managed to avoid him or maybe he was avoiding me. Either way, I hadn’t cared to speak with him since. Plus, I knew Blaine would hate it. I didn’t know or hadn’t paid attention to the fact that Josh Hill was Mayor George Hill’s son. I guess that probably wasn’t something you really wanted to make public and I wondered how many people actually knew. More than likely everyone knew. I never paid attention to the people around me at school. My parents left my side to meet the mayor halfway and I just stood there. I wanted to run—flee to the closest hiding spot, but Josh was moving around his parents and coming toward me. “Well, if it isn’t Chelsey Ford,” he said with a sly smile. “Well, if it isn’t the mayor’s son,” I countered. “I guess my dirty, little secret’s out,” he winked. “I didn’t realize being the mayor’s son was a dirty, little secret.” “It’s not usually, but I strive to make everything in my life dirty.”

He was making a sexual reference. I would’ve never picked up on that before Blaine, and I wondered how many sexual references had been made toward me before I became enlightened to such things. “Well you certainly got me dirty the last time I was with you.” I was referring to my four-wheeling accident, which took the wind right out of his sails. His smile crumbled. “Have I apologized for that night yet?” he asked. “Nope.” I turned away as if he didn’t matter and plucked a glass from a passing server. He moved closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Look, I know you’re pissed at me for how everything went down at the farm that night and you have every reason to hate me, but I’m really sorry for everything that happened. I never should’ve let you drink and get on that four-wheeler. It was dumb, I was dumb.” I sighed. As easy as it would be to hate Josh, he hadn’t been entirely at fault for everything that happened that night. I blamed him for a lot, but I had to take responsibility for my own actions. Truth be told, he hadn’t been pouring the alcohol down my throat. Plus, I could’ve said no and walked away from his dare. “I don’t hate you, Josh.” I exhaled. “You’re not my favorite person, and we won’t be going out ever again, but I definitely don’t hate you.” He laughed. And when I repeated my words back to myself, I laughed, too. “I guess that’s something.” He smiled down at me. “So does that mean you forgive me?” I contemplated his question. “Yes. I forgive you, but it doesn’t mean I want to go out with you again.” I needed him to understand that. “I just don’t think we’re good for each other.” “I guess I can live with that. Friends?” He held his hands out for me to shake. “I can live with that.” I smiled and shook his hand, secretly hoping I wasn’t shaking hands with the devil. “Oh good, you two have been introduced,” my mother interrupted. “Josh and I go to school together,” I filled her in. “You never mentioned that, Chelsey.” I could see through her fake smile she wasn’t happy with me. “There are over five hundred kids in our graduating class, Mother; I haven’t mentioned four hundred and ninety-eight of them.” My mother gave me the evil eye and then she was all smiles again as she turned toward Josh. “You’ll have to excuse my daughter. Sometimes she forgets her manners.”

I rolled my eyes and Josh just smirked, winking at me before my mother ushered him off to introduce him to other guests.

********** AS MUCH AS I WANTED the rest of the night to pass by in a blur, it didn’t. I sat through countless boring stories and old men jokes, and at some point I zoned everyone out and thought of only Blaine. It was strange to me to have countless thoughts that didn’t revolve around school and all it entailed. Blaine was never far from my mind, and thinking about him didn’t carry the burden that thinking about my future did. Checking my phone beneath the dinner table, I groaned loudly when I realized it was only eight. Guests were starting to leave, but I knew my father and the mayor had things to discuss. That meant my mother was going to keep me there until at least ten. Blaine would be coming through my window at eleven, which meant everyone would still be awake when he came. That was going to make things difficult. My father cleared his throat, and when I looked up everyone was staring at me. I flushed and tucked my phone into my lap with a smile. “Sorry,” I whispered. “Everything okay, Chelsey?” my father asked. “The poor girl is probably bored out of her mind, Henry,” the mayor piped in with a chuckle. “You know,” my mother chimed in. “I think you’re right, George.” “It’s not very often I hear a woman say that.” The mayor laughed and everyone followed suit. The night just kept getting better and better. “I’m fine. Really,” I rushed. I didn’t want to hear where my mother was going with her observation. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. “This is all very fascinating.” I was lying through my teeth. Josh sat across the table and while I could feel his eyes on me throughout the dinner, this was the first time I actually looked at him. I didn’t know how much help he was going to be, but I was hoping he’d see the SOS in my eyes and help a girl out. “Nonsense,” my mother said. “I know you kids would rather be out doing something young and fun.”

I frowned and shook my head. “No. We’re fine, Mom.” She batted a hand at me. “Why don’t the two of you go out and do something. Everyone’s pretty much gone and the men still have a few things to talk about.” “No,” I protested fiercely. When everyone eyed me, I tried to calm my racing heart. “I mean, I’m sure Josh has other plans.” “Of course he doesn’t,” the mayor said. “I think Josh would love nothing more than to get out of here. Politics bore him to death. Not to mention, he’s failing science, which means all of his plans have been stopped for a while.” Josh smiled knowingly across the table at me. He wasn’t going to be any help obviously. Going anywhere with Josh wasn’t going to be good. It was the last thing I wanted to do. Plus, Blaine was coming. I didn’t want to miss spending time with him. Things were moving too fast, and my brain was firing off different ways I could get out of going anywhere with Josh. “You know… Chelsey’s very good at science. Maybe she could help Josh with his studies,” my mother pushed. “That would be fantastic. Speaking of studies, I heard you’re a Columbia girl, Chelsey?” the mayor asked. I swallowed past the dry lump in my throat. “Yes, sir. I’m hoping to attend in the fall.” “You will attend,” my father promised with a wink. “Well, maybe all those smarts your father’s been bragging about with rub off on my son.” Josh’s smile grew and I knew he was thinking dirty thoughts. There would be no rubbing of anything when it came to the two of us, I thought to myself. There was no getting out of it, which meant I needed to go along with everything and get out and back in as quickly as possible. “Well, I guess if I have no other choice,” I said, tossing my cloth napkin on the table. “Chelsey!” my mother cried. “That was rude.” “It’s okay, Mrs. Ford,” Josh said as he stood. “Chelsey likes to give me a hard time. Should we go, Chelsey?” Josh went to the doorway of the dining room and waited for me to join him, but it was my mother who swooped in behind me to take my arm firmly. Her nails dug into my skin letting me know she wasn’t very happy with me. “Let me walk you two to the door,” she said. Josh followed a few steps behind while my mom practically pulled my arm off as we

made our way through the foyer. “You will be on your best behavior, Chelsey Rae Ford,” she growled in my ear. “Be nice to this boy because your father needs all the support he can get.” I pulled my arm free from her death grip and took my coat from her hands slipping it on. “I’ll do this for you tonight, but this will be the last time you do this.” Her eyes grew wide at my rebellious tone. I didn’t wait for her to respond nor did I bother to see if Josh was following me as I pulled open the front door and stomped out. I stood on the steps and waited, pulling my coat tighter around me. “We don’t have to do anything if you’re that repulsed by my presence,” Josh said as he joined me on the steps. “Don’t act like your feelings are hurt. You’d rather be out banging some chick right now and we both know it.” “Not true,” he said, jumping down a step. “Challenges are my favorite, Chelsey Rae.” He mocked my middle name. I knew inside that he heard my mother, but it was still embarrassing. “I’m not a challenge, Josh. I’m just not interested.” “Fair enough.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Let’s part ways here and call it a night.” He started toward the gravel driveway, pulling his keys from his pocket. He was calling my bluff, and I wanted nothing more than to go through with it, but I was pretty sure my mother was still watching from the window. It wasn’t like I could leave on my own since I didn’t have my own car yet, which was ridiculous and embarrassing considering who my parents were. “Wait,” I snapped, following behind him. I went to his car and waited by the passenger door. I expected him to unlock the doors and get in, but instead he walked around the front and came to my door. I heard the click of the locks before he reached over and pulled it open. “What kind of gentlemen would I be if I didn’t at least open the door for you?” He grinned. “What kind of girl would I be if I thought for one second you were a gentlemen?” I enjoyed the look on his face as I climbed in and shut the door. My night had just gotten longer. We ended up at a movie, and I spent the entire time checking my phone for the time. The people behind me got mad every time my phone lit up. By the time the credits were rolling across the screen it was eleven.

I practically ran to Josh’s car, and groaned to myself when I saw he picked tonight to follow the rules and go the speed limit. I’d never been so happy to see my house when we pulled up in the driveway. All the cars were gone, which meant the party was over. I unbuckled my seatbelt and prepared for a quick goodbye, but Josh had different plans. I rolled my eyes when I realized he was going to walk me to my door as if we were on an actual date. We walked side by side across the drive to the front porch. “That was fun,” he said, his eyes moving over my face and making me extremely uncomfortable. “Yeah. It was,” I agreed. Really I was thinking about how badly I wished he’d leave so I could rush upstairs to my room. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at school.” I turned toward the door, but before I could grab the knob, I was pulled into Josh’s arms. His mouth came crashing down on mine—his lips abusing mine and his tongue trying to aggressively press into my mouth. My fingers pressed into his chest as I tried hard to free myself from him, but his arms were locked around me and he was much stronger than he looked. Finally, his arms loosened and I was able to move. Pulling away, I broke the kiss and used the back of my hand to roughly wipe him from my lips. “You asshole!” I shrieked. “How dare you?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he chuckled softly to himself and smiled. His cocky attitude and devilish grin filled me with so much anger I felt like I was going to explode. And then I did. Lifting my hand, I reared back and slapped him right across his face. My palm stung at the connection. His smile slipped from his face as he covered his reddening cheek. I shook my head at him when he started to say something. The bastard. I should’ve known better than to trust him. Opening the front door, I slipped inside and slammed door in his face for extra measure. Taking the stairs two at a time, I ran up to my room. I couldn’t wait to see Blaine, and I could only hope he’d be waiting in my room for me when I got there, but he wasn’t.





23 BLAINE EVERYTHING HURT. It even hurt to open my eyes, so I kept them closed as I tried to breathe through bruised lungs. Everything was fuzzy, and it was hard to concentrate on anything when all I could focus on was the pain pulsating through my body. There was a loud buzzing in my ears, as if thousands of bees had come to take me away. Slowly the buzzing subsided and an annoying beeping took its place. Cracking my eyes open, a bright light above me hummed. Voices I didn’t recognize broke through the beeping and humming, but their words ran together creating a jumbled mess I couldn’t comprehend. The more I became conscious, the more everything became clearer and the events of the night swarmed my head. My thoughts were dizzying, leaving me gasping for air that wasn’t available. Memories of the crash assaulted me. The bright headlights through my window in the backseat, the screams of my sister and mother seconds before we were T-boned by a vehicle much larger than ours, and the sickening sound of someone choking on their final breaths from the front seat—all of it moved through my head making me cry out in pain. My eyes fluttered closed when tears filled them, and when I opened them again I instantly regretted it. The ceiling above me spun making my stomach lunge. I swallowed hard, forcing the bile from rushing up my throat. I couldn’t just lay there. I needed to get up. I needed to get to my family. And then a new memory of my father and his dead eyes moved in, sucking away the tiny bit of oxygen I could get and sending a massive pain through my chest. My dad. He was gone. He was dead. There was no mistaking that. Sitting up, I saw that I was in an empty room. A curtain separated me from the rest of the world, but I could hear the chaos of the emergency room just on the other side. Tubes and wires surrounded me, and an IV dug deep into my arm. My body was shaking uncontrollably and I wasn’t positive I could stand on my own, but I knew I had to find my sister and my mother. I had to know they were okay. Ripping the IV from my arm, my blood spurted out and covered my bruised skin.

It’s not like it mattered since I was already covered in blood and grime. Looking down, I took in my ripped shirt and jeans and shook my head. This wasn’t happening. None of it felt real to me. It was as if I was in a daze or the fucking Twilight Zone. I turned and climbed out of the bed. My legs felt weak beneath me as I moved through the tiny room toward the curtain. And then I was pulling the curtain back and staring out at a frantic emergency room. Nurses ran from room to room and the phones were ringing off the hook. I stepped into the hallway and moved my eyes around the room. My mom and Maddie were somewhere close. They had to be. I limped to the curtains around me, pulling them back in search of my mom and sister. I got yelled out a few times—some by patients and some by nurses—until finally I pulled back the right curtain and saw Maddie lying in a bed. I rushed to her side, pain radiating down my side as I bent over her. Her eyes were closed and a light flush reddened her soft cheeks. There were no marks on her face, and except for her cracked lips and a small bruise on her arm, she looked perfectly fine. A single IV was in her arm, but other than that, there were no tubes and wires. She was simply sleeping. After the night she had, that was expected. Leaning over her, I pressed a soft kiss on her forehead and swiped at the tear that lingered down my cheek. She was alive. My baby sister was alive. “You can’t be in here, sir,” a nurse said at my side. I didn’t even look her way. I kept my eyes pasted on Maddie. I needed to see her breathing. I needed to know she was alive. “My mom,” I started. “Where’s my mom?” “Excuse me?” the nurse asked. I knew I wasn’t being clear, and I could only imagine what I looked like. My eyes were probably as crazy as I felt and I already knew my clothes looked like hell. There I was leaning over a sleeping angel with tears on my cheeks and blood on my clothes. “We were in an accident,” I snapped. “Me and my family. This is my sister. I already know my dad is dead.” I winced when I said the words and I dropped my head and struggled to keep back the tears. “I’m asking you where my mom is. Did she—” The words choked me. “Is she alive?” The sounds of someone choking in the front seat played over and over through my mind. I didn’t know if it was my mom or my dad struggling to live, but I knew those sounds would haunt me for the rest of my life. I turned to face the nurse and saw the moment when realization filled her eyes. “Sir, you shouldn’t be up. We need to get you back to your room.” She moved toward me and softly grabbed me by the arm. I tugged away from her and the room spun at my quick movements.

“Tell me!” I roared. Still, she didn’t answer my earlier question. Instead she attempted to reach for me. “Sir, if you don’t return to your room I’ll have to call security to escort you there. There are tests that need to be done and you’re scheduled for a CT scan, as well. You really shouldn’t be up like this.” Again, I pulled away from her. Tugging at my hair, I met her eye for eye. Her green eyes moved over my face and sadness set into her expression. “Please,” I begged. “Please tell me where my mom is.” The nurse looked behind her to check if anyone was in the room with us, and when she turned to face me again I saw my answer in her expression. “No,” I whispered. Tears rushed to my eyes and I choked on my breath. Nausea rolled through my stomach and dizziness moved in. I gripped my hand on the wall beside me to keep from falling, before I collapsed in the chair next to my sister’s bed. “I’m so sorry,” the nurse muttered. A loud cry escaped me, broken and full of despair. This was really happening. My world crumbled around me and I felt as if I was dying right along with my parents. They were gone. Both of them. My mom and my dad. Dead. Not of this world. Passed on. However you wanted to say it. I’d never hear my mom’s laughter again. I’d never feel my dad pat my shoulder when I’d done something to make him proud of me. Never again. Gravity ceased to exist, and I felt as though I was floating around aimlessly. Everything was out of control and I needed something—anything—to hold me to the earth. Maddie would need me more than ever now. I couldn’t afford to lose it. I had to stay for her. I had to keep myself going for my baby sister and there was only one person in the world who made me feel like I was alive. Chelsey. I needed her. I needed her to hold me—tell me everything was going to be okay. I needed to see her face—her sweet smile. I wanted to breathe her in. I wanted to know I still had her there to keep me strong. She and Maddie were all I had left. I stood, dizziness sweeping in, and shook my head. I moved back to Maddie’s side and kissed her again. When she woke up, I’d be there, but first I needed to see Chelsey. Without another word to the nurse, I fled from the room and out of the hospital. The night air was cool on my heated skin, and I stopped and took a deep pull of oxygen. My lungs screamed in pain, but I pushed through. I was slowly losing it, and I needed the one person who kept me grounded. I needed Chelsey.

********** SNEAKING UP THE TREE OUTSIDE Chelsey’s window was already hard as fuck, but doing it with what I was sure was a sprained wrist and a few broken ribs was absolute hell. I’d never been so happy when I stepped foot on the shingled roof outside her bedroom. The inside of her room was dark, and I thought maybe she’d gotten tired of waiting for me and went to bed. I wasn’t sure of the time since I had no fucking clue where my phone was and I had no idea how long I’d been out, but it didn’t mattered. If she was asleep, I’d wake her up. I needed her. Her window wasn’t open already as usual, but it was unlocked. I lifted it, gritting my teeth through the pain, and climbed through before collapsing on her bedroom floor. I leaned my head against the windowsill behind me and caught my breath. My eyes moved around Chelsey’s space before landing on her bed. I expected her to be sleeping there. I expected to see her snuggled up in her bed with a sweet smile on her face, but she was nowhere to be found. Her room was completely empty. The clock next to her bed lit up the small space on top of her night table and my eyes latched onto the time. It was a little after eleven, which meant Chelsey should’ve been in her room. Worry moved through me. Why wasn’t she there? Where could she be? Was she okay? It was weird. Chelsey was always in her room waiting for me by this time at night. I decided to wait for her. Maybe she was downstairs with her parents. Maybe she’d run to the restroom real quick. It was totally normal for a person to get out of bed in the middle of the night to take a piss. Or maybe she was in the shower getting ready for bed. I waited in her room for thirty minutes before I realized she wasn’t coming. The thought that maybe she heard about the accident and went to the hospital moved through my mind, but that didn’t make any sense. We didn’t know the same people. Actually, no one from school knew anyone from my side of town. At least I didn’t know anyone who did. Something came up—that was the only way Chelsey would miss our night together. I pushed myself into a standing position and rested my arms on the window ledge to catch my breath again. If Chelsey had gone to the hospital for me, then I needed to be there. I needed to get back to Maddie anyway. I pushed myself through her window, closing it softly behind me, and then I limped over the shingled room to the edge where I usually climbed the tree down, but I paused when I took in the sight below.

There was a car parked in the driveway, and Chelsey was climbing from the passenger’s side looking beautiful as always. I smiled down at her as I watched her shut the car door behind her, but my smile disappeared and pain exploded through my chest when the driver’s side opened and Josh the fucking jock climbed out. I swallowed the bile that rose up my throat and controlled myself from jumping from the roof and beating the breath from his body. My eyes roamed over them as they walked side by side to the steps of the front porch, and then they disappeared beneath the roof and I could no longer see what they were doing. A date. I lost my parents and almost died in a car accident, and my Chelsey was out on a fucking date. At least it looked like a date, but then again, if it looked like a duck and walked like a duck then it was fucking duck. She was just below me on the porch saying goodnight to the fuck face, and there I was, standing on her roof and needing her more than my next breath. What a fucking fool I was. I thought she loved me the way I loved her. I thought she was my future. But all that was gone now. My parents were gone and so was my future. Apparently, I was losing everything I loved, and I fucking loved Chelsey so much it hurt worse than any injury from the accident. The thought of Josh kissing her goodnight—touching any part of her—made me collapse on my ass. The shingles from the roof scraped across my ripped jeans as I sat there, gripping my hair and trying to silence the demons within. I might not have died in the accident with my parents, but I was dead. Chelsey killed me in that moment. The Blaine Wesley that loved her so completely was gone. When I got back to the hospital my grandmother was there crying next to Maddie’s bed. She’d obviously flown in from New York because of the accident. There was no telling how she’d found out about it. Maddie was awake, and the minute I walked into the room she burst into tears and reached for me. I went to her and held her in my arms. She was young and probably had no idea what was going on. She kept calling out for mom and dad, which did nothing to soothe my broken heart.

********** A WEEK LATER WE BURIED MY PARENTS. My grandma took care of everything, which was a good thing since I had no fucking idea where to begin with shit like that. People came by the house afterward and brought food and their condolences. It was a small gathering, but a few of my boys from the neighborhood stopped by. I thought that

was a nice of them. The details about the accident were released and did nothing to lift my shitty mood. A drunk driver. That’s who killed my parents. And I swear if the fucker wasn’t already dead, I would’ve strangled him with my bare hands and watched the life leave his body with pleasure. I swore the moment I found out that I’d never drink again. Never again. Once the house was empty and it was just me, Maddie, and Grandma, reality really set it. There I was, in my home without half of my family. I sat on the porch in the heated, night air and watched lightening bugs light up and disappear around the bushes in the yard. “I know it’s probably a terrible time to talk about this, but what are your plans?” Grandma asked as she took the seat next to me. “I don’t know.” I didn’t know. I had no fucking idea what to do next. I just knew I had to take care of Maddie. And that meant quitting school and going to work full-time. My mom wanted me to graduate more than anything and the thought of quitting sickened me, but I had to do what I had to do. “You could come with us.” Her words caught me off guard and I swung my eyes toward her. “What do you mean? Who’s us?” I asked, confused. She smiled sadly at me and reached out to pat my hand. “Maddie’s coming to live with me in New York, Blaine. It’s all in writing. It’s what your mom and dad wanted.” I stared back at her with my mouth open. Surely she wasn’t seriously. She wasn’t taking my sister. Over my dead body would Maddie leave my sight. “But—” I started. “No buts, Blaine. You’re too young to take care of her. She’s still a baby.” She squeezed my hand. “You’re welcome to stay here and finish high school if you’d like. Hell, you’re practically a grown man. But you can come with us. Whatever you want.” I wanted to argue with her, but she was right. I couldn’t take care of Maddie the right way. It would be hell to find a job that could cover all the bills in the house. Plus, I wasn’t so sure staying around town was a great idea. There was no one holding me there anymore anyway. “Where Maddie goes, I go,” I mumbled. Grandma nodded. “Well, we’re leaving in the morning. Is there anyone you need to say goodbye to before we leave?” she asked, her soulful eyes taking in my sadness.

I’d lost almost every person I loved in one night. My mom. My dad. My Chelsey. They were all ripped from me in a matter of hours. Just thinking about it took my breath away. Visions of my dad’s bloody face and dead eyes and the sounds of my mom gasping for her last breath haunted my nightmares. Shit, those memories haunted me during the day, too. Every time I closed my eyes, those images were burned in the back of my eyelids. And then there was Chelsey. My Chelsey who I’d thought was the epitome of honesty and all things good in the world. I hadn’t even tried to contact her. All I could think about was her walking side by side with that fucker and smiling up at him as if he was the answer to all her parent’s wishes and prayers. Fuck it. No, fuck her. I was done. Broken and beaten. Lost to the world around me. And there was no coming back. I’d be lost forever. “No,” I said. “There’s no one.” And there wasn’t. There never would be again.



PART 2: STRIPPED



24 BLAINE “LADIES, WELCOME TO THE STAGE,” Eric, our MC, said into the mic. “The teaser! The Pleaser! Jack! Hammer!” He held the word hammer for four long beats. Standing behind the silver curtain, I heard the crowd of ladies go wild. Like drunken men they whistled and called out for me. The beginning beats of Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” started tearing through the speakers, and I knew it was time for me to hit the stage. I danced and slowly tore away my clothes, giving the ladies exactly what they wanted. My body. Not me. Not my personality. They wanted to see my cock—thick and hard— ready to fuck. They wanted to imagine it was me they were going home with. Not their boring, sexually unfit husbands or boyfriends. And while all of them wouldn’t, a select few with fat pockets would get a taste of me. Running my fingers over my sore abdominal muscles, I worked my hips like I was fucking each and every one of them. I looked down with my signature grin, allowing them to fill my G-string with money. Occasionally, a brave lady would grab my cock or finger my balls. It was just another night at work—nothing out of the ordinary—same shit, different day. Later, after dancing two sets, once as a doctor and once as a fireman, I ended up in the back. The back was where I made the bulk of my money, giving the women much more than a tease. “Fuck yes. Oh, God. Fuck me harder, baby,” Rosie screamed. The music from the front of the club drowned out her loud shrieks. The boom of the bass from the DJ banged against the wall I had my hand pressed against. The leather couch beneath my knee squeaked with my rhythm. Surrounded by black walls, a single light shined overhead and heated my back. The back rooms, which were secluded suites where women could pay extra for a private dance, were simple, black rooms with either a couch or a single chair in the center. A lot of guys only gave private dances, but I wasn’t the only dancer who used the suites for more. A man had to do what he needed to do for extra cash. I smacked her ass, and then dug my fingers into her jiggling hips, pulling her into my

abusive thrusts. The sounds of my body slamming into hers and her overly-wet twat smacked throughout the room. Rosie was one of my regulars. She was a married chick who usually came out every other weekend to get what she wasn’t getting at home. She was sweet and quiet, but that was all for show. Behind closed doors, Rosie liked it rough. A little pain went a long way with her. Needless to say, she enjoyed sex with me. Did I enjoy it? Not so much. “I’m a dirty girl,” she muffled into the black, leather couch. “A dirty slut.” Women. The things they said during sex was almost comical. God forbid anyone call them the things they wanted to be in bed. There would be hell to pay. Yet, those words got them off. Still, I had a part to play. “That feels good doesn’t it?” I growled into her ear, nipping at the lobe. “You like my fat cock in your pretty, pink pussy don’t you, you little slut.” Again, I smacked her ass and pulled her hair. She fucking loved it. “Yeah. Oh, I like it so much. Like. It. So. Much,” she stumbled over her words. She backed her ass into my thrusts, keeping up with my rhythm. She wasn’t an ugly woman, but she was at least twenty years older than me. Her freckled skin had been tanned too many times, and it was wrinkled and stretched in many places. Her hair was dry and over-dyed. I knew for a fact she wasn’t a natural redhead, but still, I shut it all out and did what I had to do. I closed my eyes and envisioned the one face I always pictured when I was fucking for money. I imagined her long, brown hair and big, brown, doe eyes. I pictured her soft, smiling lips, and her sweet cheeks that were always blushed. I lost myself in my thoughts of her as I ground my hips into Rosie, hard and fast. It wasn’t Rosie I was with in that moment. It was the girl who hurt me like no other who was begging me for more. It was the only woman who ever held my heart who was mewing softly as I lost myself deep inside of her. And it was the love that almost killed me who was beneath me wanting me in a way no one else ever had. I could get into it if I imagined it was her. Always her. Then her face disappeared, leaving me gasping at the pain left in my chest—pain that still hurt like a fresh wound—as if losing her was only a day ago instead of a year ago. A fucking year. That’s how long it’d been since I saw her face. And still, it hurt so bad I could hardly breathe when I thought of her. Shaking my head, I pushed Rosie hard, lifting her leg to crawl deeper inside her. I wanted to disappear into her. I wanted leave it all behind. I needed to get rid of the memories of the person who rocked me so hard I was forever scarred.

Rosie’s pussy clenched around me before she threw her head back and came, soaking the condom and screaming out her release. Her orgasm let me know it was time to fake it and get the fuck back on stage. Time was money. I pounded into her faster, her wet juices sloshing around the latex covering my dick. Biting into her shoulder the way I knew she liked, I growled out as if I was coming. I wasn’t. I never came with the women who paid me. Never. It was my job. It was work, not play. I teased them on stage, and then pleased them in the back. Teaser and pleaser. It was my tagline so to speak, and I lived by it. I gave them what they wanted. I made them think they were the best I’d ever had. I lingered on the parts of their body I knew they hated, and gave them whatever it was they were missing in their love life. Then I got paid. It was a transaction. One that paid my bills and took care of things at home. “Oh my God, Jack. That was amazing,” she panted. Jack Hammer was my stage name. I never gave them my real name. I didn’t even think Tommy, the man who owned the club, knew my real name. It was easier that way. There was no tax bullshit. There wasn’t even an ID or social security card on record. I could disappear from the club one night and no one would ever be able to track me. Rosie turned, throwing herself back onto the couch. Her button-up blouse was unbuttoned and open, and sweat dripped down between her sagging breasts shining in the dim lights above us. “You were amazing,” I said, placing a soft kiss on the side of her neck. Never the lips. Never. Standing, I ripped the condom from my cock and tossed it in the trash. I jerked my jeans up, hiding my raging hard-on, and threw my white T-shirt over my head. Thank God for Viagra. It sucked being hard for hours on in. It was pure hell not being able to relieve yourself until you were alone in your shower after work. But like I said before, bills had to be paid. There was food that needed to be put on the table, and prescriptions for Grandma that needed to be filled. I had responsibilities, and I never shirked my responsibilities. I’d learned the Viagra trick from the old dogs who worked the club when I first started it. They’d taught me all about the correct dosage for a night, and even hooked me up with my first pill. It was hard to believe that was almost a year ago. A few of them were long gone. Men didn’t tend to stick around the club for very long. Once Rosie put herself back together, she pressed her thick, aging body against my

chest and kissed my chin. “I’ll see you in a few weekends,” she said, slipping a fat roll of hundreds in my pocket. Looking down at her, I let my eyes move over her face the way I knew women liked. It made them feel special or some shit. Who the hell knew? Women were more fucked up than men. Kissing her on the cheek, I grinned down at her as I squeezed her ass. “It won’t come soon enough,” I lied. She turned, and I smacked her ass once more for good measure before she left the room. Once she was gone, I sat on the couch and ran my hands over my face. Already I’d fucked two of my regulars and the night was just getting started. I wasn’t sure I had it in me to go anymore. I was beyond fucking exhausted. Pretending to be turned on was harder than it sounded. No pun intended. Leaving the back room, I danced two more sets, earning the mortgage payment in one night. It was a Saturday, and Saturdays were usually reserved for bachelorette parties and wild-ass women looking for a good time. Saturdays were my money making days. The Golden Banana, New Jersey’s hottest male strip club, was right on the outskirts of New York City. It was a two-hour drive I fucking hated, but it was necessary. I didn’t want anything in my double life to blow back on all I had left of my family. The club was open seven days a week, but I only worked the busy days, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. When I wasn’t at the banana, slinging cock for cash, I was working lawn care, and trimming a different kind of bush for a landscaping company. Lawn care was hard work, but I loved being outside with the sun on my back. I loved the smell of the fresh air, and the freedom of being away from the club. I loved working. Period. Seven days a week I worked. Seven. Other than the fact that working took my mind off of things I struggled every day to forget, I had people who depended on me. I had people who only survived because I worked my fingers until they callused, and my cock until some rich bitch wanted to ride it. With all that in mind, I left the banana, and got into my sixty-nine Camaro with a pocket full of cash, and a painful cock and balls. The things we do for the ones we love.

**********

TWO HOURS LATER, I crept into the house. It being four in the morning, I didn’t want to wake anyone. The house was dark and quiet. Maggie, my grandma’s old cocker spaniel, ran up to me and jumped on my leg. “Down, Maggie,” I whispered, shutting the front door as quietly as possible. The house was a small, modest place close to the city. The brick exterior begged for a pressure washer, but the yard looked perfect since I took my time to make sure it looked nice. Grandma had a thing for flowers, and if all it took to keep a smile on her face were a few tulips, then so be it. I snuck across the house, careful to miss the parts of the floor that creaked, and went to the kitchen. Flipping on the light, I found the plate of leftovers Grandma left in the microwave, and pressed the button to heat it up. Then I went straight to the sink for water. More than anything else, I needed water. My body was craving it. Most dancers spent the night getting drunk, taking shots from the ladies and drowning it all out. Not me. Alcohol changed my life for the worse. Alcohol ripped my life apart and took away the people I depended on the most. My parents were gone because some asshole drank way too much and then got behind the wheel. I was only eighteen, and too young to realize how much my life was about to change. Because of that, I never drank the shit. Just water for me. I shoveled the food in, barely tasting anything, and washed it down with more water. Once I secured the house, I went into my room, which was the size of a large closet, and snatched a pair of sweats from my dresser. Creeping to the bathroom, I turned the shower on as hot as it would go and stepped under the stream. I washed away the perfume and lipstick. I washed away the filth of what I’d spent the night doing. Closing my eyes, I let the guilt of what I’d done move out of my system. The sex—the lies—my life and all it entailed went down the drain. Leaning against the shower tiles, I let the hot water run over my skin as I palmed my dick. It was still hard like a rock, and had started hurting an hour before it was time to leave work. My balls ached, and the head felt bruised as if someone had spent the night chewing on it. Most men jacked off for the feel of it—the rise of an orgasm tickling your spine—the sweet clench of your balls right before you blew a load. The feel of emptying yourself usually felt amazing. The release usually so extreme your muscles clenched and your mouth hung open in pleasure. It wasn’t like that for me. Not anymore anyway.

I could remember jacking off because it felt good. Now, it was the only way I was going to get some sleep. My cock ached, but not in a good way. It hurt to touch it after a night of abusing it. I was exhausted, and some nights I’d have to jack-off for hours just to get it to go down. Thankfully, it wasn’t one of those nights. I pumped my fist a few times—closing my eyes and letting her big, doe eyes move into my thoughts—then my hot come streamed into my palm. I pressed my forehead against the tile, breathing hard with my release, and prayed that one day I’d be ahead. I prayed that one day I could just work lawn care and still be able to make ends meet. It wouldn’t happen for a long time, but the idea was a nice one.

********** I WOKE UP THREE HOURS after going to sleep to my bed moving. Even with closed eyes, I could feel the sun beating against my face. It was too early. Especially considering I’d just barely gone to sleep. “Blaine. Blaine. Blaine. Blaine,” Maddie, my sister, chanted my name over and over again as she jumped on my bed. Over the last year she’d conquered the L in my name, and was now able to say the word love properly. She was my parent’s miracle baby. They thought they were done when it came to kids, but out of nowhere came Madison. I was fifteen when she was born. I remember seeing her sweet face for the first time and knowing I’d do whatever it took to make sure she was always taken care of. I was keeping that promise. Every night when I danced—every day when I cut grass and manicured people’s lawns—I was keeping my promise. “Madison, please,” I groaned into my pillow. “Ten more minutes.” “But, Blaine, it’s time to get up,” she sang. It was Sunday, and I knew I had to be in the Wilson’s yard working by noon, but I couldn’t be mad at Madison. She had no idea what I did for her, and even if she did, I wasn’t sure she was old enough to understand. “Go get some cereal. I’ll be out there by the time you’re done.” I covered my head with the blanket, and prayed she’d let me get in another thirty minutes of sleep. I knew her making her own cereal meant I’d have one hell of a mess to clean up, but sleep was more important than that thought at the moment. “Yuck! I don’t want cereal. Can you make me some pancakes? Please,” she stretched

the word. My sister was the only child I knew who requested a large, cooked breakfast. She was so tiny. I had no idea where she put all the food. Most kids would’ve loved the freedom of getting up and making their own cereal. Not Maddie. Honestly, I think she used our weekend breakfasts as a way to spend time with me, which was why I always gave in. “Fine,’ I rasped, my voice thick with sleep. Throwing the blanket back, I crawled from the bed before opening my eyes. I ran my palms down the stubble on my cheeks and shook my head. The bed stopped moving, and I heard her little, bare feet as she took off across the house toward the kitchen. Standing, I stretched my sore body and cracked my neck. I felt older than my age, and I knew I was a product of the life I led. Throwing on an old T-shirt, I covered the tattoos and piercings I knew Grandma wasn’t fond of, and I went into the kitchen. Maddie was sitting at the table with her fork in hand. She smiled up at me, and I smiled back. She was beautiful. Her big, blue eyes reminded me of my mother’s… of my own, as well. Her olive skin, also a match to my own, was darker since the summer was coming to an end. Her thin, straight, blonde hair—the only thing she’d gotten from our father—was a ratty mess from sleeping. The Frozen nightgown she was wearing, her favorite with Olaf the snowman on the front, reached her tiny feet. “Pancakes?” I asked to make sure she hadn’t changed her mind. “Pancakes.” She smiled. Grandma came in while I was cooking, her wrinkled smile full of love for Maddie and I. She was doing better. She’d just recently gotten out of the hospital. Her kidneys decided they’d had enough with her diabetes and no longer wanted to work. Basically, she’d need a transplant soon. Since she had no insurance, it was up to me to make sure the money was there when that time came. “Good morning, Maddie,” she said, making her way over the coffeemaker. She leaned over and I kissed her cheek before I flipped the pancakes I was making for Maddie. We’d been living with Grandma since the accident. Moving from Georgia to New York was a culture shock at first—especially for an eighteen-year-old boy—but once I got the hang of things, it wasn’t so bad. I quit school the first time Grandma got sick. It was easier to take care of Maddie. I finished my classes online, which turned out in my favor because I was able to graduate

early. When the money from my parent’s life insurance, which wasn’t nearly enough for us to live on, started to run out, I got a job to help out. Grandma received assistance, but it wasn’t nearly enough to take care of two extra people. Blowing off the idea of college, I went to work at a few places. I made enough money to cover food for the week, but it was always a struggle. It wasn’t until Tommy, the owner of Golden Banana, came into the grocery store I was working at and offered me a job that things started to look up. Again, you did what you had to do when times got tough. Grandma had no idea what I did when I left at night for work. A little fib about stocking shelves made it easier on all of us. Placing the pancakes on a plate for Maddie, I kissed the top of her head and moved to leave the kitchen. “Where you off to now?” Grandma asked, blowing softly at the top of her hot coffee. “The Wilson’s place. I have about an acre to cut and some new flower beds to set up.” She nodded her understanding. I left the ladies of my life to fend for themselves, while I went to work. Later, once the sun went down, I came home covered in dirt and sweat. I was dead on my feet and ready for bed. I showered before passing out, knowing the following day would be the same.





25 CHELSEY “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY live in New York City now,” Lynn said, her face turned toward the sky as she took in the skyscrapers looming above us. It was definitely a change from Georgia, but it was where Columbia University was, therefore, it was where I’d be for a while. It was the beginning of my freshman year, and Lynn had flown up to see me. “It’s crazy, right?” I responded. Handing a five dollar bill to the hot dog vender, I took my hot dog when he handed it over and took a huge bite. “Crazy doesn’t even begin to describe it, Chels. You wanted it, and you went after it. You’re a college girl now.” She dropped a handful of change from her purse into the cup of a homeless man in passing. “Tell me you’ve hit some of the clubs around here.” She turned, eyeing me with excitement. “I’ve heard New York has some of the best.” Clubs. That’s what was on her mind. The truth was, I hadn’t even considered anything of that nature since I moved into my little apartment close to the university. I hadn’t had a chance to make any friends, since studying always took priority, and I wasn’t about to go to a place like that alone. Not to mention, Lynn had somehow forgotten clubbing wasn’t really my scene. “Not yet,” I responded. We continued to walk down Broadway, taking in the sites. She could barely contain her excitement. It wasn’t that we’d never been to New York. We had. Too many times to count, actually. But somehow being alone in the city without our parents made the place different. A sense of danger was there since we were free to do whatever we wanted. I wanted to go back to my apartment and read, but Lynn wanted to party. So, instead of turning around and heading back, she pulled me into a store where I sat and watched her shop for a New York friendly outfit.

I listened as she told me all about the new guy she was seeing, and how everyone from school back home was doing. Basically, she talked about people I didn’t know or care about. Boring 101. “When’s the last time you’ve been on a date anyway?” she asked. Her voice came from behind the curtain where she tried on clothes, and everyone in the store could hear her. The dreaded question bounced around catching the attention of all the shoppers. I knew the answer to her question, and I was positive she already knew it, too. I hadn’t dated since he left. I hadn’t even thought of another man since the minute he up and disappeared. He left me when I needed him the most. He left me to deal with life changing events like I was nothing to him. It still hurt too badly, and the anger was still fresh even though it had been a year. I’d never experienced pain so extreme, not even when I was younger and I fell and broke my arm in seven places. His leaving left me scarred deep inside—deep in a place that still burned with fresh fire—a place I refused to let anyone else near. When I didn’t respond to her question, she peeked her head out from behind the curtain with sad eyes. “You haven’t dated since him, have you?” She hadn’t said his name, but even the reference to Blaine hurt. My lungs felt deflated, and the air around me felt too thick to breathe in. The suffocating sensation that moved over me prompted me to stand and move around the room. “I think I’m going to step outside and get some air,” I said as I moved toward the exit. Lynn didn’t respond, and even if she had, I didn’t wait around to listen. As soon as the cool, outside air hit my cheeks, I felt like I could breathe again. Bending, I rested my palms on my thighs and took in deep pulls of oxygen. I’d never admit to anyone the effect Blaine Wesley had on me. Never.

********** LYNN STAYED WITH ME FOR A WEEK, in no rush whatsoever to get back to Georgia. Thankfully, she didn’t mention clubbing again until the following weekend, which meant I had a week of non-stop studying during the day, and fun girl’s nights with her every night.

When Saturday came, Lynn was waiting outside my final class with a big smile on her face. “So, I was thinking,” she said as she fell in step with me. “Oh, lord. That’s never a good thing,” I joked. “Bitch,” she playfully muttered. “Anyway, I was thinking. Since I’m leaving on Monday, maybe we should go out and have some fun tonight.” Since we spent the week doing everything I wanted to do, I knew there was no way I was getting out of having a girl’s night out at the club with Lynn. We were probably going to end up at a sleazy place where I’d sip water and check the time every twenty minutes. “Okay,” I agreed, earning myself a shocked gasp from Lynn. “What were you thinking?” “Okay, so I met a few girls at the coffee shop by your apartment. We’ve been kind of hanging out there every day this week. One of the girls is getting married next weekend, and they’re having a bachelorette party at a club on the outskirts of New Jersey. I think it could be fun.” Lynn had been in New York a week, and already she’d managed to make friends. She was refreshing and easy talk to. Being from the south meant she didn’t meet a stranger and talked to everyone as if she’d known them her entire life. Me? Not so much. “You’re serious?” I asked. We stepped out of the building and into the cool afternoon air. There was a slight chance of rain for the night, and already there was a cloudy haze and light drizzle. “Hell yes, I’m serious. Neither of us are getting married any time soon, which means we have years before we can enjoy a decent bachelorette party.” Stopping, I turned toward her and took in her happy smile and flushed cheeks. She really wanted to do this. Honestly, going to any club sounded terrible to me. At least if we went with a group of girls Lynn would have people to dance with. That was good news for me. It meant I didn’t have to spend the night worrying she was going to pull me onto a dance floor full of sweaty people. I hated standing there and nodding my head like I knew what I was doing. I didn’t. “Fine,” I gave in. “What time?”

**********

LYNN AND I MET THE BRIDE-TO-BE and a group of wild women outside my apartment. I climbed into the back of the limo and sat in the corner quietly during the ride. The girls were pre-gaming and taking shots straight out of the bottle. They were ready for a wild night of drinking and I so wasn’t. The club on the outskirts of New Jersey was two hours away. By the time the limo pulled up, the girls were already slurring and removing clothes to cool themselves off. While they were wearing short skirts and tops that revealed way too much cleavage, I’d opted for a less obvious route. My black leggings and long blouse covered me completely. I sat and waited as the girls fell from the limo, their heels digging into the white rocks outside the club. Once I emerged, I was faced with a big, brick building. A golden neon in the shape of a banana took over the top of the building and hung over the words, The Golden Banana. It was huge. So big in fact, I was sure with the proper equipment I could see it from my apartment two hours away. The parking lot was full, and the music from inside the building could be heard from where we were. The rocks popped beneath my boots as I walked behind the girls and toward the entrance. I hated going to clubs. My palms were sweaty and my mouth felt dry with nerves. I swallowed hard over my parched throat. A bald man with entirely too many muscles, tattoos, and piercings took our money at the door and didn’t even bother to check our IDs. Neither Lynn nor I were twenty-one yet, and we were used to wearing the ugly band around our wrist that kept us from drinking. It looked like even Lynn was going to get to continue to drink once we were inside. I was used to being the only sober person in the group. When the doors opened, smoke and fog moved outside around us, and the beats from the music thumped inside my stomach. Moving through the dimly lit room, I followed the girls to the bar and stood to the side as they took a group shot and ordered their drinks. I moved my eyes around the room, noticing there was an abnormal amount of women and only a few men skittered throughout the room. There was no dance floor, so everyone was seated and chatting loudly at tables surrounding a stage. Then the MC started talking, and the music lifted the room. I slowly began to realize the kind of club the girls dragged me out to. A male strip club. I wanted to die on the spot. Literally, die and fall to the ground where I’d hopefully decompose and disappear. Instantly, I regretted not bringing my own car, but living in the city meant I rarely drove it anywhere. I wanted to go home, but I couldn’t ruin the bachelorette party. I blushed hard once a guy came out on the stage and began to dance and strip. “Come on, Chelsey! Get into it,” Lynn yelled over the music, tugging my arm and pulling me to a table beside the stage.

The bride-to-be and her friends shoved money at the men and screamed filthy things. They grabbed at their chests and bit into their lips. It was disgusting. They were an embarrassment. Once the guy on the stage was done dancing and collecting the money that littered the floor, he left the stage. The fluorescents changed color, altering the atmosphere in the room. The purple lighting shifted, before landing like a spotlight on the center of the stage. The DJ slowed the music as the MC spoke into the mic. “Now, ladies. I have a question for you.” His voice boomed into the room. “Are you ready to get hammered?” The room exploded with screams, the women standing from their chairs and all but climbing onto the stage. “Then welcome to the stage.” Music began playing alongside his announcement. “The teaser! The Pleaser! Jack! Hammer!” He held the word hammer long and the music picked up in beat and grew. A stripper stepped onto the stage dressed in all camouflage like a soldier. The rock music grew louder as he moved into the center of the stage. His camo hat was pulled low over his eyes as he saluted the ladies in the rooms. He worked his body, grinding his hips and running his hands over his baggy, camo pants, before grabbing at his crotch. The girls next to me screamed, Lynn included. Slowly, he opened his camo jacket, revealing the white tank top beneath. He playfully lifted the bottom of his tank with a suggestive grin, showing off smooth, cut abdominal muscles. Finally, he ripped his tank down the center, revealing a thick chest that glistened under the lighting. Pulling off his jack and tank at the same time, he began to show more of his gorgeous body. His sexy, tan arms were muscled and his shoulders were broad. He was beautiful, and the way he moved his body was mesmerizing. My eyes trailed over his stomach, entranced by the glide of his muscles with his movements. I began to feel the excitement of the ladies around me as he unbuttoned the top of his pants and pulled one side open like he was going to show us exactly what we were waiting to see. Yes. I said we. Not since Blaine had I looked at another man, but something about the dancer on stage was really doing it for me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I followed his large hands as he worked them over his body. He moved around the stage, until finally he was right in front of our table. The bride-to-be stood and ran her hands over his stomach. He grinned down at her with thick lips and a sexy set of dimples. His smile was all we could see since his hat still covered most of his face.

Then his pants were gone, and the girls at my table were reaching up and running their hands over his thick thighs. Money was shoved into his G-string, which left nothing to the imagination. He was big and hard, popping out of his underwear, and standing tall like the patriotic soldier he was dressed as. He jumped from the stage, spending extra time with the soonto-be-bride. He thrust his hips into her as she threw her head back in laughter. His hard ass worked fast like a jack hammer, and I found myself biting into my bottom lip and wishing he’d come toward me. And then he did. Lynn reach out and tugged at his underwear, letting his length and thickness loose. Instead of covering it, he left it hanging out and let us enjoy how beautiful it was. His confidence only made him even sexier. I looked away, trying not to stare like the rest of the women, and he moved closer to me. Another woman pulled his hat from his head, but with the light blazing into my eyes, I still couldn’t see his face. The music continued, and before long his penis was in my face. I say penis loosely because even though I wasn’t the type of girl to use the word, it was more of a cock than a penis. Let me explain the difference. A penis is a male reproductive organ—one used for procreation purposes and urination only. It’s the thing that distinguishes a man from a woman. Men have a penis. Women have vaginas. It’s simple biology. This man did not have a penis. No. He had a cock—a thing of beauty—standing tall with the confidence that any woman who took a ride would be more than thrilled with the results. He had a cock that throbbed with want and arousal, ready to explode like a fountain of pleasure. The more I stared at it, the more my mouth watered. He thrust his hips closer, sliding the hard, mushroom-shaped head along my cheek. My face burned with embarrassment as the women around me screamed and threw dollar bills onto the stage. His lower abdominal muscles, the ones forming a perfect V, jerked and flexed as he moved, making my fingers itch to touch them. His G-string was pulled to the side to release the beast between his legs, but the rest of it stayed in place housing the money that women had stuffed in there for just a touch of him. Every now and again, a twenty would fall from his G-string, landing between his legs. Twenties. Who the hell had that kind of money?

I closed my eyes and breathed in deep as I waited to disappear into the nothing. I don’t know what made me agree to a night out with the girls, but while I was enjoying looking at the fine, male specimen in front of me, the strip club I’d been dragged to wasn’t my thing. My eyes moved up, rolling across his tan abs and chest. I took note of the sexy tattoos that crawled up his sides, before my eyes landed on his pierced nipples. His neck was thick, and a tiny vein was popping out on the side from his workout. His jaw muscles were tight, ticking to the beat of the music he danced to, and his teeth were plunged into his bottom lip like he was seconds away from coming all over my face. Then my eyes met his icy blues and everything faded away. The music and women disappeared, and I saw the exact moment when he recognized me. His expression changed, his face dropping completely as his body stopped all movement. “Blaine?” His name lit a fire across my tongue, burning my taste buds and leaving an acrid flavor in my mouth. Shivers of awareness moved through me. It was him. His face was one I’d never forget. It haunted my dreams at night—kept me from dating anyone because he was all I could think about. He was all I’d ever wanted. His mouth moved, and I read his thick lips as he mouthed my name. His brows were pulled down—his eyes narrowing at me as he tilted his head and slowly backed away from the front of the stage. And then he was gone, covering his beautiful cock and taking my heart, which he’d stolen when I was seventeen, with him.



26 BLAINE CHELSEY FORD. CHELSEY FUCKING FORD. I couldn’t believe it was her. Her big, brown eyes took me in and shock filled her expression. I’d never run off stage before, but everything stopped the moment my eyes landed on hers. For the first time since I started dancing, I felt embarrassed by my job. I purposely worked far from home so Grandma and Maddie never had to know what I did. I worked away from home so I’d never have to feel the white hot feeling that formed in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t give two fucks what other people thought—that’s what kept me from ever feeling shame—but never in a million years did I expect to see Chelsey there. Once I was in the back, and I was able to catch my breath again, I fell into a chair and grabbed a towel. I wiped the sweat and the oily shit Fran gave us from my body. Throwing the towel to the side, I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes sure I was seeing things. It was definitely her, but what the hell was she doing in New Jersey? Much less on the shitty side of Jersey? I already knew why she was in New York. Columbia University. She made it. Not that I ever doubted she would. Unwelcomed pride filled my chest. I didn’t want to be happy for her. I didn’t want to be proud of her, but I was. I knew Chelsey could do whatever she put her heart into. I’d just wished she’d put more of her heart into me. I also knew Columbia was the only reason Chelsey was in New York. I wasn’t about to kid myself into thinking she’d sought me out. We hadn’t had any contact since I left Georgia, and I knew she’d never come looking for me. It still didn’t explain what she was doing in a strip club. My Chelsey would never be in a place like the banana. My Chelsey would never have the lust-filled look in her eyes like she’d had before the shock of who I was moved in. Then again, she wasn’t my Chelsey anymore… she never had been. “You good, Jack?” Tommy, the owner, came around the corner and asked.

His dark hair was slicked back, and his porn mustache looked as if he trimmed it down some. Half the guys in the club, myself included, hated his fucking mustache, but he treated it with pride. Honestly, it only added to his slimy persona. Concern filled his eyes, and I knew he was more worried about his pockets than he was about whether or not there was anything wrong with me. The rest of the guys shuffled around the back getting ready for the next set. They basically had the same routines they danced to. Marshall was a fireman every night. Jimmy was a cop. I was the only one in the group who switched it up. I enjoyed being someone other than myself, and I took advantage of it. The boys called me the jack of all trades, and I made it work. I hadn’t expected to become close with the guys I worked with, but it was hard when we worked so closely together for almost a year. As fucking corny as it sounded, we were kind of like brothers, we looked out for each other here. Don’t get me wrong, there were still guys I worked with that I didn’t care for. I figured out early on who I could trust and who I couldn’t. The club was a down and dirty place, and some of the men who worked in it were either fucking each other over or fucking each other… literally. “Yeah, man. I’m good. I think I had too much to drink tonight,” I lied. If Tommy cared to know his employees he would’ve known I never drank. “Think you can make it the rest of the night? There’s already a line of ladies out there dying for a private dance from you.” Looking down at my quickly deflating cock, I sighed and nodded my head. I reached down and stroked it to bring it back to life, and pain moved into my balls making me hiss. I wasn’t about to let something like seeing Chelsey again stop me from working. I wouldn’t step foot back on the stage as long as she was in the club, but a few fucks and private dances in the back rooms would be enough to pay the bills. “If you stroke that thing any harder it’ll fall off,” Marshall joked as he moved past me in his fire-red thong. I ignored him. “I’m okay now,” I answered Tommy. I spent the next hour hiding in the back rooms. I danced for the women who paid and even fingered one for a quick two hundred dollars. Going to the bathroom to wash my hands afterward, I peeked out and saw Chelsey sitting with her head down at a table full of wild women. She was with a bachelorette party, and she was the only one in the group not dressed for sex. She looked exactly the same. Same pouty lips. Same doe eyes. Same long, brown hair. Just looking at her sparked a deep ache in my chest that I had to fight off. I pushed her out of my mind. I moved from room to room, dancing for each lady, and somehow managing to keep it

strictly dancing and no fucking. Something told me I’d never be able to pull it off knowing the girl who ripped my heart out and spit on it was in the same building. I went into the back room waiting for the next woman, and leaned against the wall running my favorite memories of Chelsey through my mind. If I closed my eyes I could still see her smile. I could hear her sweet laughter. She wrecked me so badly—fucked up my train of thought—shocked my body in a way only she ever could. The door opened beside me, filling the dimly lit, purple room with a flash of outside light. And then she was there, standing beside me and peering into the empty space. She took another step into the room, and I let my eyes move over her small frame. I reached down and pushed at my hard cock. It felt wrong to be superficially hard when I knew my body wanted to respond to her naturally. She was small—shorter than most women—and her hair reached down her back in a cascade of brown silk. I wanted to reach out and touch her hair. I wanted to bring it to my face and smell the sweet scent that was always uniquely hers. But I knew it was wrong to want those things. It was wrong because I was never what she wanted. Just like the women around me almost every day, she’d used me. Closing my eyes again, I remembered the way her face looked when she was beneath me. The surprised gasp she made when I’d been the first to enter her body. I remembered the way her mouth fell open in ecstasy as I used my body to make her come over and over again. It was such a beautiful moment for me. It hurt knowing it hadn’t been beautiful for her. Chelsey. My Chelsey was there with me again. And then she gasped and turned to face me, and I realized I’d actually spoken her name out loud. Her large, dark eyes moved over me, and I felt like I was dying inside all over again.



27 CHELSEY “LYNN, LET’S JUST CALL A CAB. Please don’t make me leave you here alone in a strange place in Jersey,” I said. Since the moment I laid eyes on Blaine up on stage shaking his cock for all the girls in the room, I was ready to go. I wanted to leave the club. I wanted far away from Jersey and all things him. “Just one private dance and I promise we can go,” Lynn said with a drunken grin. “No.” I was adamant. I wasn’t trapping myself in a room with a male stripper. The girls we came with, whose names I’d finally learned, thought it would be funny to stick me in an uncomfortable positon. I wasn’t sure things could get more uncomfortable than the entire night had been. “Ah come on, chick. Live a little. It’s my bachelorette party, and all you’ve done is mope all night. Just one dance and we leave,” Sherry, the bride-to-be said. Her veil was hanging on to the back of her head for dear life and the Bride sash she wore across her chest had a little bit of everything she’d had to drink on it. “I’m not doing it.” “Come on, Chelsey. It’ll be fun. You don’t have to touch him and he won’t touch you,” Lynn assured me. “He won’t touch me? You promise?” I asked. “Not unless you want him to,” the guy letting the ladies into the back rooms said with a wink. I’d almost forgotten he was there. Like the guy manning the front door, he was bald and huge. He wore snake skinned boots and a florescent-green tank top. It was all kinds of wrong. I wanted to turn around and go home, but I preferred to leave with my best friend. I wasn’t the kind of person to leave her hanging, even if I’d been asking to leave from the moment my eyes landed on Blaine. I didn’t bother telling Lynn he worked there, and I was never more thankful she hadn’t

noticed him. Thank God for florescent lights, fog machines, and her lightweight tendencies. I spent most of the night praying he wouldn’t return to the stage. I doubted I’d be that lucky again. The last thing I needed was her causing a drunken scene. She knew how badly he hurt me, and she was drinking. Lynn always got bold and loud when she was drinking. I just wanted to go home and forget I’d even gone to the place. Better yet, I just wanted to go home and forget Blaine Wesley even existed. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with,” I said, moving past the man and down a long, dark hallway lined with black doors. “Have fun!” The girls giggled behind me. “Yeah, do something I would do!” Lynn laughed. One song. That’s how long I’d sit there. And I’d keep my eyes closed the entire time. Whatever it took to get my ass back to New York City and back in my apartment where I didn’t have to think about anything but my assignments and grades. I’d learned a year ago that thinking about anything but those two things was bad for me. Finding a door that didn’t say occupied took a while. I’d even opened a few to find women sitting in chairs with dancers all over them. That was embarrassing. I ended up standing in front of the last door on the right. There was no sign, so I gathered my nerves and turned the handle. The door squeaked as I opened it, revealing a room lit with purple lights. A lone leather couch centered the room, and there were no windows. I stepped into the space—my eyes adjusting to the colored light—and I softly shut the door behind me. At first the room appeared to be empty, but then I felt someone standing at my side, and I knew there was a male dancer there. “Chelsey.” My named move through the room in a whispered voice. It was a voice I’d never forget. A voice I replayed on my voicemail until I couldn’t take it anymore. I finally threw my phone against a wall shattering it into hundreds of pieces. That was a year ago, but he sounded the same. I turned to move toward the door, but he moved to the side blocking it. Anger moved across his expression and I tensed. I was the one who was angry. He had no right to look at me as if I’d kicked his puppy. Especially not when he was the one that kicked me. Even with those old memories and scars, I had to admit he looked good. Better than good, he looked delicious, which only fueled my ire toward him. A pair of loose-fitting jeans hung from his hips, allowing me a full view of the sexy V muscles holding them up. He stood with his thick arms crossed over his tattooed and pierced chest, his eyes moving from my head to my toes and back up again. “Never thought I’d see a stiff like you in a place like this.” His deep voice moved over my skin, leaving chills in its wake.

I hated him for the responses he pulled from me. “That’s funny. It’s not surprising at all to see you in a place like this. Still using your gift from God to get you through life I see,” I said, letting my eyes move to his crotch so he’d catch my meaning. His eyes narrowed before he chuckled dryly and shook his head. “Now that I think about it, it makes sense you being here. Paying for penis would be the only way you get any. Dead lays don’t tend to get the shaft. Pun intended.” My stomach bottomed out. Hurt mixed with broken pride choked me. Clearing my throat, I turned and blinked away the tears threatening to fill my eyes. The memories of all the times I let him touch me or hold me—the many nights he snuck into my room just to sleep beside me—they burned across my brain. Lies. It was all lies, and hearing him talk down to me only solidified how wrong I’d been about him. “Let me out,” I said calmly. I didn’t want to break in front of him. I’d die before I let him see me cry, before I showed him even an ounce of emotion other than anger. “But I haven’t even danced for you yet.” He moved closer, his eyes consuming my face. He looked at me so deeply I was afraid he could hear my thoughts. His cologne smelled delicious, and up close his olive skin glowed under the purple fluorescents. I wanted to reach out and touch him. I wanted him to touch me, but wanting and needing were two different things. I didn’t need Blaine the way I did when I was younger. And no matter what I had to do or say, I was going to make sure the want I felt for him would go away. “Geez, Blaine. Stop begging.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. “Don’t worry about the dance. This should cover it.” I opened my fingers and let the bill drift to the floor. He looked down at the floor before looking back at me. His eyes flashed with fire before he moved, turning me and pressing me hard against the door that held me in. His body molded to mine, his hot breath puffed against my cheek. The heat from his body made my stomach tingle, and his unique smell mixed with sweat made me dizzy with want. I was repulsed by myself. I was disgusted that even after everything he put me through, I could still think about his body and the way I used to crave it. “I don’t want your fucking money, and I certainly don’t need it. As a matter of fact, I can’t think of a moment when I ever needed anything from you.” He leaned closer, taking a deep pull of my scent before he shoved the hair beside my face back. “You were

convenient, Chelsey. You were someone to spend my time with until someone better came along.” His words were like a dagger to my heart. That’s exactly what I thought when he disappeared. I was convenient. I was nothing to him… never had been. I gasped, sucking in as much oxygen as I could. Then he stepped away from me. His eyes moved over my face once more before he pushed me to the side, opened the door, and left the room. I jerked when the door slammed behind him. I covered my mouth before a tiny cry of pain escaped me. Tears rushed from my eyes and down my cheeks cooling my burning flesh. The pain was too much. The memories and the look of raw hate in his eyes burned my heart leaving my chest on fire. Why hadn’t it lessened over the last year? Why did he still hurt me so bad? I sat and gathered myself before I left the room. I forced a smile when the girls asked how it was, and then I sat in the corner of the limo in a quiet daze on our way back to New York City. After I pulled Lynn from the limo and dragged her up the stairs to my apartment, I left her passed out on the couch and went to the bathroom. I needed a hot shower. I wanted to wash away the filth of the night. I needed to cleanse away his hurtful words… words I knew were true. For a year, I’d contemplated all the reasons why Blaine would leave me. I always came back to the same answer. He used me. He used my heart and my body, and when he was done with me, he disappeared without even a second thought. I was abandoned. I was left in the most fragile state of my life with no one to lean on. He was fine, and I wasn’t. I never would be again. I died that day. The girl I was when I was with him flittered away, and all that was left was a cold shell. I went on a mission. I drowned out the world and focused on school in a way I never had before. I quit talking to everyone, and dove head first into each assignment. And every time Blaine would cross my mind, I’d secretly hurt. I’d do that again. I’d dive deep into school and my future. I’d move him out of my mind like I did before, and if and when he entered my train of thought again, I’d silently cry alone in my apartment and make it through.

********** THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, I hugged Lynn goodbye. I stood at the window of the airport and watched a plane take her away from me. I never told her about seeing Blaine. I spent the rest of her visit with a big, fake smile plastered on my face.

Being in New York City alone was hard. I missed Lynn. Part of me even missed my parents, but I knew it was for the best. Lynn had different plans with her life, and after Blaine, my relationship with my parents never returned… not that our relationship had been good beforehand. I went to my late class that afternoon, but I barely heard a word the professor said. My mind kept wandering back to Blaine. Always Blaine. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? For a year I’d asked myself that question, but I could never answer it. I’d never admit to how much I cared about him. Not to myself and definitely not out loud. I had to try harder. I needed to keep myself so busy I couldn’t think of anything. It was the way I survived him the first time, and it would work this time, as well.



28 BLAINE THE MEMORY OF BEING ALONE WITH CHELSEY in the back room replayed in mind. The venomous lies I’d spewed at her burned in my chest like the poison they were. I hated myself for saying those things to her, but I was in pain, and pain made me lash out. I dove head first into work and continued to keep myself busy. “We done today, boss?” I asked Chris. He was only a few years older than me and owned Cutting Edge, the lawn care company I worked for. It was the day job I did to cover up where I really got my money. We’d only worked one small job so far, and I was beginning to think maybe we didn’t have any other jobs for the day. I wasn’t sure what I’d do with the rest of the day off, but I couldn’t lie, it sounded great. “We got a new account,” he said, looking down at his clipboard and marking something with his pen. “Nice. With who?’ He tossed his clipboard onto the driver’s seat of his truck and took a swig from his soda. “A big university on the other side of the city.” It was rare that we did commercial work, much less a university on the other side of the city, but it sounded fun. I was tired of doing yards. Landscaping for a large university sounded like a great change, and I was excited about the new job for all of the thirty minutes it took for us to drive there. Once I realized the university Chris was talking about was Columbia University the excitement quickly faded. We pulled into the parking lot, and I let my eyes move over the large buildings. Students littered the grounds, moving fast for their next class and laughing. I’d been there before. I went there when the beginning of the school year started hoping to get a glimpse of her. That’s how pathetic I’d been. I’d told myself I couldn’t forget her until I saw her one more time. Maybe if I talked to her—got some closure on everything that went down—I could at least get a good night’s sleep.

I waited outside the school all day instead of looking for her. I watched the other students and irrationally hated them for being there with Chelsey when I couldn’t be. And then I hated myself for still wanting to be. I gave up looking for her by the afternoon. I knew it was still early in the school year, and there was plenty of time to catch her. I told myself I had better things to do than wait around for her after everything she’d put me through. Except I found myself back at the school the next day, and then the next, until an entire week had gone by and I was probably known as the parking lot creeper. On the seventh day, I told myself it was the last time. I was done with all of the Chelsey bullshit. But then I saw her. She was coming out of one of the buildings with a group of people. Just seeing her face again was almost enough. My eyes devoured her… the way she moved. She was graceful, despite the heavy looking bag weighing on her shoulder. I watched her fingers move over her cheek to move her dark hair behind her ear. I caught the movement of her eyes and my gut ached to have those big, doe eyes on me again. My fingers wrapped around the steering wheel in a tight grip until the skin around my knuckles burned. I pressed my forehead into the steering wheel and demanded that my body take control of itself. I demanded myself to stay seated instead of rushing over to her. I lifted my head, afraid she’d walk away and I’d never see her again. She’d come to a stop, and across from her was some preppy fuck who was standing close enough to make me hate him instantly. When he pushed the hair behind her ear, I nearly tore the door off my car to get out. I stopped two feet from the car, my body tense and ready to strike. My hands balled into fists at my side as I watched Chelsey laugh and heat fill her cheeks. It reminded me of the last time I’d saw her, and I felt the betrayal all over again. It ripped through my body, nearly crippling me. I sagged against the side of my car and clutched at my hair. The pain made me want to claw at my chest and pull out my heart so I didn’t have to feel again. I blinked, coming back to myself and getting angry for reliving the memories all over again. Sweat coated the back of my neck and palms, and I rubbed my hands on my pants to dry them. I just wanted to get this job over with and get the hell out of there. Later, I’d talk to Chris about getting one of the other guys to take over the Columbia job so I didn’t have to ever come back. There were a lot of people at the school, and I knew in the back of my mind the chances of running into Chelsey again were slim to none, but still, I couldn’t help but swallow hard and worry that I would. We unloaded and began work. An hour later, I stopped thinking about the possibility of running into Chelsey. I was

trimming a set of bushes outside one of the buildings and shaping them when I heard her familiar voice. I looked up to see her stepping out of the building with a man wearing a suit. A professor, no doubt. She smiled at him and I felt it in my gut. I openly listened as they discussed an assignment, and when they were finished talking, the professor went in one direction and Chelsey went in another. It just happened to be in my direction. The minute she turned, her eyes landed on me and her face paled. Quickly, she averted her attention and began to walk by as if she didn’t see me. I couldn’t stand being ignored by her. I wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me, but more than anything, I wanted her eyes on me. I felt alive when she looked at me. I hadn’t felt that way in a long time. Not since our last night together. “Well, if it isn’t Miss Ivy League,” I said sarcastically. Her dark eyes moved over my face and she stopped, her body turning toward me. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Magic Mike,” she countered. I couldn’t remember her being so quick to the punch before. Obviously, things had changed. She’d changed. But then again, I never really knew her to know if she’d changed or not. I chuckled at her comment, which only pissed her off more. It was best not to let her know her words bothered me. “I see you got what you wanted, as usual,” I said. Her brows pulled down in confusion. “And what would that be?” she asked. I motioned to the buildings around me. “You wanted Columbia University and you got it.” The darkness on her face cleared, and a slight smile pulled at her lips. I could remember a time when I longed for her smiles. Just thinking about the past sent a quick bolt of anger through me and hateful words sprang from my lips before I could stop them. “Do I even want to know how much cock you sucked to get accepted?” I wanted to pull the words back as soon as I let them out, but they were already out there. I knew how she’d gotten accepted. Hell, I was there the day she got the acceptance letter. Chelsey was smart, smart enough for anyone in Columbia, but again, a hurt dog bit, and I was still hurting a year later. Her face dropped and the sweet smile she was about to wear dropped with it. She shook her head before turning and walking away. Again, she turned her back on me. And even though I knew I was the one who pushed her away this time, I couldn’t help but remember a time when I needed her more than anything and she wasn’t there for me. I finished working, and Chris dropped me off at home. I hated it, but we’d be working

the grounds of the school over the next few weeks. The place was huge and required a ton of work. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the possibility of seeing Chelsey again. One minute there was excitement—the next anger—then somewhere along the line I’d feel the hurt I’d been feeling over the last year. She still had a strange pull over me, and I fucking hated it.

********** THE FOLLOWING DAY, my grandma had to be put in the hospital. Her diabetes was getting worse, and her blood sugar was so high she had a seizure. Thankfully, our neighbor, Deborah, agreed to watch Maddie until I got home from work. Of course, I wasn’t able to leave her home alone at night, so I missed a few nights at the club. The bills would definitely feel the effects of that. Grandma came home four days later, and the bill for her stay came two days after that. I was drowning, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I couldn’t depend on Grandma to keep up with Maddie. She was only four, which meant she needed to be watch at all times. I worked at the university for several days without even a single sighting of Chelsey. I guessed in a way that was a good thing. I had too many things going on in my life to worry about what she was doing or thinking when it came to me. The following day, my luck ran out in that department. I was outside of a different building edging the sidewalk, when I heard her familiar voice once again. Looking up, I expected to see her with another professor, but this time it was a younger guy. He was tall and dressed exactly how I pictured an Ivy League stiff to dress. His light hair was longer, and he kept tossing it to the side with the flick of his head. He held a messenger bag over his arm, and I watched as he offered to take Chelsey’s bag for her. A memory of the first time I’d ever spoken to her moved through my mind. I could remember the panicked look on her face as she cleaned her things from the hallway floor. She was so young—so sweet—so fucking beautiful. I was obsessed with her from that moment on. Mr. Ivy League smiled down at my Chelsey before reaching out and touching her arm as he spoke. The sick desire to rip his arm from his body and beat him to death with it took over me. I stared at them like they were a bad accident, and when she smiled back at him, it felt like a punch to the balls. I swallowed hard, not even paying attention to the job I was supposed to be doing. And then she must’ve felt my eyes on her because she turned to face me. Her dark eyes moved over my face once before she looked away. I moved closer to

hear what they were saying. “I’m sorry. I can’t. But thank you for asking,” she said. “Maybe another time?” Ivy League asked. “Sure. Maybe another time.” A date. He asked her on a date and she declined. Still, bile moved into my throat and my stomach burned like it was on fire. I felt sick. I wanted to put my fist through his face, but more than anything I wanted to stop the madness going on in my head and the heavy jealousy that moved around my gut. Chelsey wasn’t mine—hadn’t been for a long time—if she ever was. Yet, I was livid at the idea of her going out with another guy. I couldn’t decide if that was right or wrong. All I knew was while I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted when it came to Chelsey, I certainly didn’t want anyone else to have her.



29 CHELSEY BLAINE WAS EVERYWHERE. He was in my nightmares—in my dreams—and when I wasn’t sleeping, he was at school waiting outside my classes. His eyes were always on me, always taunting me with the pain I felt when I saw him. I hated it, but at the same time I couldn’t deny the feeling I got every time I saw his face. He worked for the landscaping company who was doing the grounds around school, and I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he’d stopped stripping. Part of me hoped that was the case. Blaine wasn’t mine—he’d never been mine—but the thought of women looking at him or touching him sickened me. I went a few days without seeing him after the first time, and I’d begun to relax into my usual schedule. I was just leaving class when Charles, a guy I had several classes with, stopped me outside the building. I felt Blaine’s eyes on me the entire time. It was hard to explain, but it was like the sun was heating my skin when he looked at me. I barely realized Charles was asking me out of a date. I said no, but I was flattered that he asked me. Charles was nice looking and extremely smart, which was kind of a turn on. But the fact of the matter was, I didn’t have time for guys. Once I was done and I was a doctor, I’d make time for men. Until then, school was most important. I pretended like Blaine wasn’t there when I walked by him to go to my next class. “Poor, Ivy League. He didn’t stand a chance with a stiff like you,” Blaine muttered as I walked by. I should’ve ignored him, but I couldn’t help myself. Turning on my heel, I faced him with narrowed eyes and a pinched mouth. “Excuse me?” I asked. “All I’m saying is, you’re a stick in the mud. Always have been, always will be. I had to practically use a crowbar to get your legs to open for me.” I felt tears rush to my eyes, but before he could see them, I turned quickly and left. I hated him so much. I hated him because he brought out so much emotion in me, but worst of all, I hated him because he was right. I hadn’t had fun since him, and knowing what I

knew now, that fun didn’t count. I was all in, Blaine never was.

********** THREE DAYS LATER, when a few of the girls in my class asked if I wanted to join them for a frat party, it was Blaine’s parting words that pushed me to agree. Not to mention, I was ahead of the game in the assignments department. I could afford to take the night away from the books and get out of my apartment for some air. I took my car and used the GPS on my phone to find the place. When I pulled up, the lawn was littered with college students. Cars were parked everywhere and the music from the stately, brick house could be heard from down the road. I parked and made my way across the yard looking for a familiar face. Going to a party wasn’t something I usually did. Going to party alone made me feel like Wonder Woman. But part of me wanted to show Blaine I could be reckless… I could be fun. Even if he wasn’t there to witness it, I knew I was doing it, and that’s all that mattered. Stepping through the doors was like stepping into an underground club. People were packed in the room so tightly their sweaty bodies were pressed against each other. I slid through the room, making my way to a quiet corner until I could find the girls who invited me I didn’t know them well, but we had a few classes together. One them, a girl named Riley, and I always landed in the same study groups. We were total opposites, of course. She somehow managed to have a life and still make nice grades. Smoke swarmed around the room, and when the music would take a break to switch songs, the laughter and conversation of those around me replaced the noise. I pressed my back against the wall, keeping my eyes trained away from those who were openly making out. And then I saw Riley, and the strange pressure on my chest lifted. She made her way across the room to me, her short skirt moving up her legs and giving the guys she passed the perfect view of her toned thighs. She smiled, and I smiled back at her, relief filling me. “Hey, girl! I didn’t think you’d show,” she yelled over the music. “Want to get something to drink?” I opened my mouth to say no, but then Blaine’s words moved across my memory. I found myself nodding and following her to the kitchen where a guy was manning the kegs. He pumped it and then filled a plastic cup with beer before handing it over to me. I sipped the beer, and my face pinched at the flavor. It was gross, but everyone around me seemed to think it was okay, so I assumed it hadn’t gone bad. I followed Riley around, being introduced to a bunch of people I knew from my classes. Everyone was really nice, and by the time I finished off my second beer, I could feel the relaxation seeping into my

muscles. Thirty minutes later, when Riley and the girls starting pouring shots, I was giggling right along with them. I was handed a tiny, shot glass, and I took it and held it out with the rest of the girls. “Here’s to college life. May we never forget to let our hair down and have a little fun.” Riley held up her cup and the rest of us followed suit. “Bottoms up!” I slurred, before I slammed the shot and swallowed hard. Liquid fire moved down my throat, making me gasp and choke. The girls laughed and I was so buzzed I laughed along with them. And then I looked up and my eyes clashed with a beautiful set of translucent blues. Blaine. The side of his mouth tilted up in a cocky grin before he lifted his cup to me. I growled into the space around me. He. Was. Everywhere! Instead of lifting my cup to him, I lifted my hand and flipped him off from across the room. The alcohol was definitely loosening me up. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d ever flipped someone off. He shook his head and I could see from his face that he chuckled. Damn him. Then he licked his plump bottom lip before he lifted his cup to his mouth and took a drink. He was with a group of guys that looked like trouble, his black, Henley shirt was tight across his chest and his rugged jeans were hanging on to his slim hips for dear life. God, he was beautiful. Why did he have to be so damn gorgeous? And why couldn’t I get away from him and all the memories we made together? He moved across the room toward me, and I stiffened. The girls next to me ran their eyes over Blaine as he strutted across the room as if he owned the place. That was one thing about him that annoyed me the most. He owned every room he was in. He was comfortable with himself and his confidence only made him sexier. Moving into the wall, I pressed my back against it like I was trying to escape. He noticed and smiled as he closed the distance between us. And then he was standing in front of me. The smell of his cologne wafted around me, making me dizzy and my mouth watery. “Well, look what we have here.” He leaned in close so only I could hear him. “If it isn’t Miss Ivy League. I figured you’d be asleep already.” I didn’t have a comeback for two reasons. One: I was totally drunk. The room around me felt tilted and I felt my body beginning to drag. And two: he was right. I would’ve been curled up in bed with a book hours ago had I not taken the time to rebel against him. “Don’t,” I said, turning my head and preparing to walk away.

He reached out and gripped the top of my arm, stopping me. I tilted my head to the side and narrowed my eyes at him. “What?” He leaned in closer, the warmth from his body tingling the side of my face. “Don’t get pissed off because I’m right.” “I’m not the girl I used to be, Blaine.” I was lying. I was still the girl I used to be. As a matter of fact, it was getting late and I wanted to go home. But there was no way in hell I’d go anywhere now that he was there. He snorted. “Please. It seems to me you’re even stiffer than you were a year ago.” He laid his palms against the wall behind me, boxing me into a tiny space filled with him. “We both know you’re only here to prove a point.” I looked away. Looking into his clear, blue eyes hurt too badly. “And what point is that?” I shouldn’t have asked, but the words just kept coming out. I blamed the alcohol. “That you’re not the stuck-up bitch I know you are.” And then he stepped away, leaving me cold and hurt by his words. I felt like I’d been slapped in the face. I gasped from the pain rocketing through my chest. I felt sick to my stomach. I wasn’t sure if it was the drinks or his words making me nauseated, but I suddenly had a desire to run outside and get sick in the yard. I watched his back as he moved across the room, stopping to talk to random people like he’d known them all his life. What was he doing there in the first place? He didn’t even go to school with any of these people. Then again, I guess it didn’t matter. Blaine had it all. He always had. He was rebellion and sex combined with a lopsided, roguish grin that made the girls go crazy for him. It was a winning combination that always affected my decision making abilities. The music was loud all around me. The girls were off on the makeshift dance floor grinding their bodies on each other and the guys who danced around them. And something inside me clicked. I wasn’t what Blaine claimed me to be. I wasn’t cold and stiff. I wasn’t boring. Those were the reasons he left me all those years ago. He never said so, but I knew it deep in my heart. More than anything I wanted to prove him wrong. I wanted to show him what he was missing out on. I wanted him to see that the girl he broke a year before was really fun and exciting… maybe even a little sexy. But more than anything, I wanted to hurt him as badly as he hurt me. Setting my drink on the table beside me, I moved toward the girls who were dancing. Blaine thought he was so exciting because he took his clothes off for women every night. It was time I showed him how exciting I could be.





30 BLAINE FRAT PARTIES WEREN’T USUALLY MY THING, but I had a few hours to kill before I headed to The Golden Banana and some friends of mine were meeting me there. Imagine my shock when I looked across the room and saw Chelsey there taking shots with the girls and a cup in her hand. I was drawn to her, and I found myself moving across the room to be near her without even thinking about it. I wanted to kiss her sweet lips and take her away from the party. She was too good for the scene around her. Too good for a lot of things, including me, but instead of pressing myself closer to her—breathing her in and kissing her lips—I walked away. By the time I made it to the other side of the room, a group of guys were moving toward the makeshift dance floor. Their hoots and whistles were drowned out by the loud music, meaning there was probably some skank on the floor letting all her goods hang out. Parking my ass in a chair in the corner, I finished my water. I was the only sober man in the room. Part of me wanted to leave, especially now that I knew Chelsey was there, but the other part of me knew I couldn’t go anywhere until I knew she was safe at home. It was a sickness. I was always weakened by her Standing, I moved toward the kitchen to get another drink. When the group parted a bit, and I was able to see exactly who it was eliciting all the attention from the guys, my mouth dropped open in shock and rage. Chelsey. She had her eyes closed, grinding her hips and running her hands down her sweet little body in a seductive manner. I’d seen her move that way before when she was on top of me —loving me—letting me mark her as mine. It was wrong for anyone else to see her that way. Anger shot through my spine when a guy reached out and grabbed her ass. Dropping my plastic cup, I pushed two guys to the side and moved into the circle. I pushed another guy out of my way when he stepped in front of me for a closer look. And then she was moving before me as if no one else was in the room. She opened her eyes, and glared at me. She was drunk. How had I not noticed she was drunk when I had her against the wall? Her bloodshot eyes beat into me as she licked her lips and lifted the bottom of her shirt showing a little bit of skin. The guys around me went nuts.

Then she bit into her bottom lip and lifted her shirt higher. She was pretending to strip. I moved closer into the circle, eyeing her with narrowed eyes and a pinched mouth. I was beyond angry at her for making such a scene. And then she lifted her shirt higher, showing her white bra, before she ripped it from her body and swirled it over her head like a helicopter. Enough was enough. I moved and snatched her shirt from her hands. She pushed at my chest as I tried to pull her shirt back over her head. The guys around me booed, but I didn’t care. “Stop it, Blaine,” she slurred. I didn’t stop. Instead, I roughly pulled her arms through the shirt as she continued to fight me off. “You’re not doing this,” I growled. “What am I not doing? What? You can strip your clothes off for people, but I can’t?” I didn’t respond. Instead I pulled her shirt down, covering her virginal bra. “Hey, man. Leave her alone, dude. Let her dance,” some frat fuck said to me as he tugged on my arm. I didn’t respond. I just turned and pushed him into the table beside us. Beers flew soaking the rug beneath the table. “What the fuck, Blaine!” Chelsey shrieked, again pushing at me. I hated when she cursed. It wasn’t her. None of this shit was her. She didn’t need to be here, and it was my fault. I pushed her too hard. I teased her too much for being a saint. The reality of the situation was I liked her being the way she was. I didn’t have to worry about her and other guys. I didn’t have to worry about her going out and getting drunk and killed. “We’re leaving,” I said, grasping her hand and pulling her off the floor. She pulled back and dug in her heels. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know who the hell you think you are but —” I didn’t let her finished. Instead, I bent over and scooped her up before tossing her over my shoulder like she weighed nothing. She continued to curse me and pound at my back with her tiny fists. I ignored her, and I left the party without saying goodbye to my boys. The night air cooled my hot skin as I took the steps to the yard two at time. “Where do you live?” I asked. “Kiss my ass,” she yelled from behind me. “I’m not telling you anything.” She fought hard as I kept walking across the yard toward where I parked my car. “I’m going to ask you one more time, Chelsey. Where. Do. You. Live?”

I set her in front of me and steadied her when she began to lean. She glared up at me, her eyes burning something deep inside of me. And then the strangest thing happened. Tears sprang to her eyes and she covered her face with her hands and began to bawl. Her cries hurt my stomach, making me feel sick. I wanted to make her feel better. I hated seeing her sad… I always had. It was etched in my DNA to comfort her and take away any pain that came to her, but I couldn’t. The memory of the blow she dealt to me was still fresh. So, instead I went tense. I stood there watching as she cried into her hands. When she looked up at me, her big, brown eyes full of pain were like a shot to the chest. My fingers itched to reach out for her—to pull her to me and hold her—but instead I stared back at her. “I bet you’re just loving this aren’t you?” she slurred. She’d never been so wrong. “You won, Blaine. I cracked. Isn’t this what you wanted?” She was yelling at me now, her voice raw with emotion as the tears kept rushing down her cheeks. “I don’t want this,” I whispered. I was sure she didn’t hear me. She closed her eyes pushing a fresh batch of tears down her cheeks. “Why are you here, Blaine? Did you come to finish the job? Are you trying to kill me?” Her voice was strained and broken as she pressed her fist to her chest. I had no idea what she was talking about. I was the one who’d been wronged, not her. I was in New York first and not because of her. I was there because I had nowhere else to go. I only had my grandma and Maddie. “You?” Anger began to build. “Am I trying to kill you? You’re fucking joking right now, right?” I ran my hands through my hair tugging on the ends in insanity. “You’re the one killing me, Chelsey. You’re the only person in the world with the ability to destroy me and here you are, doing it all over again.” She looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had. Who the fuck knew? All I knew was I felt crazy. I felt like I was teetering on the edge of insanity and she was the thing pushing me over. Her face paled like she was seconds away from getting sick all over the front yard. “Just let me take you home,” I begged. “Where do you live?” Again, she didn’t answer. Instead, she swayed and wilted. I caught her in my arms, her body hanging limp and her mouth dropping open. She’d passed out. I lifted her, cradling her in my arms as I carried her to my car. I sat her in the front seat and buckled her in. Her head flopped to the side and her brown hair fell into her face. Using my finger, I tucked the hair behind her ear and out of her face. She looked so sweet with her mouth hanging open and her cheeks flushed. I leaned

into my car and softly pressed a kiss to her forehead. I hadn’t forgotten the reason I’d left her a year ago. Every time I saw her, the old feelings, which I was sure never really left me, came back with full force. But tonight I saw my old Chelsey. I saw the girl I fell in love with and technically never stopped loving. She was embedded in me. She was a part of my soul and blood. When my heart pumped it pushed her into my veins and ran her through my body. I’d never get her out of my system, and that pissed me off even more. Still, seeing her fold the way she had affected me. It shouldn’t have, but it definitely did. Her cheek was soft beneath my callused fingers, and it was nice to look at her without her knowing. I took her in. I breathed her in deep as she laid there passed out. I missed her so fucking much. There was once a time when I needed her more than my next breath and even now, I still felt that need. I didn’t know where she lived. So once I was in my car, there was only once place I could take her. I called Tommy and let him know I wasn’t going to make it to work at the club, and I took Chelsey to my house. I carried her in my arms to my front door. Grandma and Maddie were already asleep, so I crept through the house kicking Maggie off my leg the entire time. Once I was in my room, I softly shut the door behind us and laid Chelsey in my bed to remove her shoes. She moaned in her sleep and began whispering into the darkness around us. A pain struck me deep in my core when I made out exactly what she was saying over and over again. “Blaine, don’t leave me,” she whispered in her sleep. What did that mean? Was she upset that I left her? Did she really want me to stay? Was I wrong about everything? I couldn’t handle the questions anymore. Leaning in closer to her, I pushed the hair from her face. She was so beautiful—so innocent—so sweet. At least I used to think she was, but she’d hardened over the year and I couldn’t decide how that made me feel. Covering her with my blanket, I went to my dresser, pulled out a pair of sweats, and left for the bathroom. After I was done getting ready for bed, I crept back into my room and shut the door behind me. The room was dark, so I stubbed my toe on my dresser on the way to the bed. I knew it was probably a better idea to sleep on the couch rather than with Chelsey, but I didn’t want her to freak out when she woke up in a strange place. Not to mention, she looked so sweet and warm, and honestly, I wanted to sleep beside her the way I used to. Climbing into bed, I settled on my side and laid there with my eyes open listening to her breathe. And then she turned, snuggling to my side and wrapping her legs around my thighs. Instantly, my cock hardened, but I tried not to think about it. Instead, I put my arm around her and fell into a peaceful sleep.





31 CHELSEY I WAS WARM. SO VERY WARM. My bed suddenly felt more comfortable than ever before. I turned and cuddled down in my blanket, but then a nasty wave of nausea hit me. My eyes flew open and even though the room was dim, my eyes hurt like the sun was shining in them. My head began to pound, and my mouth felt dry and gross. I sat up. Laying a hand on my beating forehead, I turned to climb from the bed to go to the bathroom, but instead of the edge of my bed, my hands met warm, hard flesh. The guy let out a manly moan when I touched him, and I jumped back to the side of the bed I woke up on. Suddenly, the room around me came into focus and I knew I wasn’t home. The room was small, no bigger than a large closet. The bed took up the entire space with just enough room for a small dresser. There were no pictures on the walls, and no personal items except for a few clothes strewn across the floor. Running the events of the night before through my head, I couldn’t remember most of it. I remembered going to the party. I remembered a few drinks and some fun with Riley and the girls, but nothing after that. What had I done? Did I go home with someone? If I did, it was all Blaine’s fault. The only reason I even went to the party was to prove to him I wasn’t stuck-up or boring. Blaine. I suddenly had a memory of him in front of me. He was pressing me up against a wall and getting so close to my lips I could taste him. The guy in the bed next to me turned on his side with a groan, and I was met with Blaine’s face. I couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of relief. At least if I went home and slept with someone it was the only guy I’d ever been with. Checking myself, I was still in the clothes from the night before. Not even my socks had been taken off. That made me feel a little better about the possibility I hadn’t slept with Blaine. If we had, I doubt I would’ve taken the time to get fully dressed before going to sleep.

I let my eyes move over his naked chest, the tattoos and his nipple piercings were new. He really was such a beautiful specimen of the male form. Reaching out, I let my fingers slide up his side, trying to figure out what his tattoo said. “That feels amazing, Little Doe,” he whispered in his sleep. I pulled my hand back as if he tried to bite me, and the tips of my fingers tingled. Looking at him in a peaceful sleep, softly whispering the name he used to call me, I could almost forget he’d ripped my heart out. I could almost forget he left me at a vital moment in my life… a moment when I needed him the most. I started to slide down the bed. I needed to get away from him. I needed to get my butt up, get my shoes on, and get back to my apartment ASAP. But just as I started to slide away, Blaine laid a heavy arm across me and pulled me into him. He nuzzled the side of my neck before placing a soft kiss against my skin effectively shattering me. I hissed at the sensation of his warm lips against me and he kissed my neck again. Only this time his mouth opened and he sucked at the soft flesh behind my ear. My body went up in flames and a tiny moan escaped my lips. “Mmmmm, yeah. You taste so good,” he whispered against my neck. I pulled back, aware he was awake. He rolled over onto his back with his hands behind his head and a sleepy grin on his face. “Good morning, naughty girl,” he rasped. I pushed at his side and narrowed my eyes at him. “Shut it.” I began to slide down the bed again to get away from him. “Damn, I was hoping you’d climb across me.” I looked back at him to see a tall tent in his sweats. He reached down and rubbed it as he bit into his bottom lip and a tiny growl escaped him. He was so sexy. Every part of my body screamed for me to do exactly as he wanted. My thighs clenched at the thought of climbing on top of him, at feeling his hardness between my legs. I sat on the bottom of his bed, my feet barely touching the ground, and took a few deep breaths to calm my raging hormones. “Chelsey,” he moaned from behind me. “Come here, baby.” My jaw clenched and I squeezed my eyes shut. I wanted to go to him. I wanted to lay with him, let him make me high the way he always could. I was fully aware of what Blaine was capable of. I knew what he could do to the female body, and my body had already started to cry for his attention. But I also remembered what he was capable of doing to my heart. The memory of lying on the bathroom floor crying for him. The memory of the acrid smell of my own blood as it spread across the tile beneath me. I needed him. I needed him so badly and he wasn’t there.

With a strong resolve, I stood and bit into my bottom lip. I couldn’t turn around. I couldn’t look at the face that was able to break me every time. I couldn’t keep doing this to myself. “Thank you for taking care of me last night,” I said to his closed bedroom door. “As you know, that’s not who I am. I let the drinking get out of hand. It won’t happen again.” I reached down for my shoes and left his room. There was no one else in the house. It was still early, but then again, maybe he lived alone. Although, the décor around the house said otherwise. There was a crocheted blanket on the back of the couch and so many porcelain knickknacks that I was unable to see the furniture beneath them. An old, fluffy dog came running at me, jumping up my legs as I made my way across the house in search of the front door. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my cell ready to call a cab, but before I could put in a number, Blaine was there again. He was fully dressed in his usual rugged jeans and a T-shirt that showed off his chest and abs when he slid his jacket over his arms. “I’ll take you home,” he said without making eye contact. “No. I’ll call a cab.” I reached for the doorknob and he pulled my hand away. “Forget it. I said I’m taking you home, Chelsey. It’s not safe around here.” “Since when do you care about my safety?” I shot back. He ran his hands through his hair in aggravation, making it stand on end and giving him that just fucked look. “I’m taking you home.” He pulled his keys from his pocket. “No,” I said adamantly. We stood there, glaring daggers at each other, and then a tiny voice reached up and shook us both from our ire. “Blaine?” I looked down into the blue pools of a little girl, an exact match of Blaine’s beautiful cerulean eyes. She was wearing a princess nightgown and her tiny toes peeked out from the bottom. She rubbed at her sleepy eyes and frowned up at us. His little sister, Maddie. He’d told me all about her before, but it was the first time I’d ever seen her. She was just as beautiful as he’d described her. “It’s okay, baby girl. Get some cereal. I’m going to take my friend home and I’ll be right back.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door. Rather than continue to argue in front of Maddie, I let him pull me from the house.

Questions filled my mind, but I didn’t ask any as I followed him out to his car. I gasped when I saw that he was still driving his Camaro—the same car we spent so many nights in—the place where I gave myself to him for the very first time. I stopped in my tracks, so suddenly he was forced to stop with me. He paused beside me as I stared at the car, letting the memories of his body against mine—his lips and his touch—rush over me. My face heated. Gaging my reaction, he grinned. “She’s still going strong,” he said with pride. And then his expression softened. “I thought about selling it so many times, but I just can’t.” My eyes moved over his face as I tried to figure out what his words meant. Secretly, I hoped he couldn’t sell it because of the memories of me, but I knew in the back of my mind that wasn’t the case. There was no telling how many girls had given him exactly what I had in his car. I shook the thoughts from my head and went to the car. I climbed into the passenger’s seat and looked at all the editions he added. The leather seats were no longer ripped, the dashboard no longer cracked. When he started the engine, the familiar purr vibrated me and took me back to a time when I felt so much love in my life. It hurt knowing that was no longer the case. I had no idea where we were. I didn’t venture away from my apartment or school much, but the neighborhood was nice and quiet even if the houses were small and older. The silence in the car was deafening. “So, you still live with your parents?” I asked. A dark shadow moved across his face and I watched as he shut down. “No.” He didn’t elaborate and I didn’t push. Some things changed and some things stayed the same. I knew what his expression meant and I also knew no matter how hard I pried, I wasn’t going to get any more information about that subject out of him. The ride to my apartment was quiet except for the few times he asked where to turn and I answered. When we pulled up to my building, I unhooked my seatbelt and finally looked over at him. His eyes touched every square inch of my face as if he was memorizing me. “Thanks again,” I said. I climbed from his car and shut door behind me. Before I entered the building, I heard him call out my name. I turned to see him standing outside his car with the door still open. “Yeah?” I called back. He shut his door and moved around the car toward me. The stern look on his face made me uncomfortable. He took the steps to where I was standing two at a time, and then he was in front of me, looming over me with his tall height.

I tilted my head back to look at him, and I was shocked by the change in his expression. His face was soft and unsure, and his cocky smile was erased as his brows pinched down in confusion. His eyes moved from my eyes and to my lips, and I wondered if he was thinking about kissing me. And then just as quickly as his expression was there, it was gone. He backed away from me and shook his head. “Be careful when you go out partying from now on, wild girl.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a friendly grin, before he turned and left to go back to his car. His engine roared as he pulled away from the curb, leaving black rubber on the road outside my place. It wasn’t until he was out of sight that I remembered I’d left my car at the party the night before.



32 CHELSEY HE WAS DOING IT ALL OVER AGAIN. How was that even possible? How could I let him slip into my conscious so easily after everything I’d gone through because of him? He was invading my life again, and because of him I felt like everything I’d worked for was collapsing around me. Already Columbia and my classes were taking the back burner to Blaine. I couldn’t let him do this to me again. I couldn’t let him ruin my life for a second time. It was going on two weeks since I’d woken up in Blaine’s bed, in his arms, and I couldn’t stop thinking about him to save my life. Correction, to save my schoolwork. Studying was taking ten times more effort than normal. I almost didn’t finish my last timed test and four times was the amount of times I was late to my morning classes. “Chelsey, could you stay behind for a minute please?” Mr. Woods asked. He was my favorite professor and taught psychology, which was also my favorite class so far. I waited at my desk as the room cleared, before I went to the front of the room to where Mr. Wood’s desk was. “I hate to pry, Chelsey, but what’s going on with you lately?” he asked. His dark eyes filled with concern behind his thick-rimmed glasses. “What do you mean? I asked. “Well, I read over your paper about the oedipal complex and it was all over the place. Freud would not have been proud. It wasn’t your best work.” He cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind my saying so, but you seem very distracted lately.” Blaine’s face flashed in my mind, and I knew he was the distraction Mr. Woods was referring to. The last two weeks had been hell for me and my assignments. “I’m sorry, Mr. Woods. I’ll try to pull myself together,” I responded. The desire to punch Blaine and then kiss him was thick in my stomach. “You do that.” He smiled. “Don’t get overwhelmed. You’re a smart girl, Chelsey. The smartest in this class. These assignments should be a walk in the park for you.”

I left Mr. Wood’s classroom with a new resolve. I vowed to get back on my normal schedule and forget all about Blaine Wesley. I didn’t need the drama and chaos he created. I didn’t want the emotions and feelings that forced their way into my heart whenever I even thought his name. The following Saturday, I got up extra early and walked around the track to clear my head. It was when I hit the one mile marker that my brilliant forget-Blaine-Wesley-allover-again plan emerged. There was a saying Lynn once told me. If you can’t get over one, get under another. Her saying was completely disgusting. The thought of sleeping with another man made me nauseated, but maybe if I started dating it would help. I hadn’t been on a date since Blaine. Technically, Blaine was the only person I’d ever gone on a date with. Maybe going out and getting to know some of the guys around school was a good idea. With fresh momentum and a game plan, I went back to my apartment, cleaned every square inch of it, showered, ate something, and left to spend the rest of the day at the library. I spent a lot of my free time at the library. It was a calming place with familiar smells full of the things I loved the most… books. Deep down I had a feeling my love for the library had more to do with Blaine and less to do with the books, but I was too afraid to replay the memories we’d made in the library back home. I needed new memories. Memories that didn’t involve Blaine’s eyes or his lips and hands. Memories that didn’t make my body shake or my heart break. Ones that took away the pain I felt every time I thought of everything I’d loss… every time I thought about being alone and the physical pain I’d endured. I had nightmares every night. Nightmares full of blood and emptiness… nightmares of dying. Blaine left me with more than just a broken heart, and it was all the extras I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over. The dark place I entered when he left was hell. It was as if I’d left my body just to deal… a self-induced coma, so to speak. My parents threatened to send me to the psych ward if I didn’t snap out of it. Then I’d found out I was pregnant, and I really did shut down. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. My life was going down the drain and all I could do was sit by and watch. I gave up on school, and even though my grades declined drastically, I was still able to graduate. My graduation day was nothing like I’d pictured it my whole life. I didn’t get valedictorian, and I walked across the stage sad and nauseated with my parents frowning in the crowd. The night I lost our baby was the worst night of my life. I was alone and afraid, and I needed Blaine to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay. I was bleeding and in so much pain I could barely stand. I’d hid it from my parents up until that point, but there was no more hiding it once they had to rush me to the emergency room. There was no more hiding it when the doctor told us they had to do an emergency D and C. Everything inside of me was scraped away, and I was left empty and feeling more

alone than ever. After that night I was never the same. My body was altered—my mind scrambled. I didn’t have a social life outside of Lynn, who tried her best to comfort me, and my parents. I swore off the opposite sex completely. I told myself I wasn’t going to think about anything but Columbia and my future until I was from under my parent’s rules, until I didn’t have their accusing and judging eyes all over me. My father couldn’t even look me in the eye and my mother barely spoke to me. I’d made it past all that and I was attending Columbia. I was ready to take on my future, and I was ready to date. If not for any other reason but to forget Blaine, I needed to do this. Avoiding the opposite sex was no longer an option. I was ready to live again. I needed to get over Blaine once and for all. I needed to let the terrible memories of my year after he left go away for good. With my plan to have more of a dating life in full force, I lost myself in my textbook and let the rest of the library fade away. Focusing on the words of my chemistry book, I tried to make sense of it all. An hour later, and with a mind full of mush, I closed my book and gave up studying for the rest of the day. Chemistry would have to wait until I didn’t have a million thoughts running through my head. I gathered my books and notes and shoved them in my bag. Standing, I hung the strap from my bag on my shoulder and turned. Blaine was there staring back at me. Again, he was freaking everywhere! My stomach twisted just like it had when I’d first met him, and I cursed his impeccable timing. Being alone with Blaine in the back of an empty library was not the ideal situation for me to be in. His cocky grin promised he was up to no good and his eyes, as they moved over me, confirmed that. “You’re studying on a Saturday? I guess some things never change, huh, Little Doe?” His nickname for me sparked anger inside stomach. “Don’t call me that,” I snapped. “And that’s not true. You’re walking proof that things change. You’re in a library on a Saturday and it’s not against your own will.” He chuckled. “College girl’s got jokes,” he said with the tilt of his head. “No jokes. I just tell it like I see it.” I moved to go around him, but he took a step to the right and blocked my path. I crossed my arms over my chest, and gave him my most annoyed look. He took a step toward me, obviously unfazed by my annoyance of him. He either didn’t care about my feelings, or was completely clueless to them. It was in my experience that Blaine was never clueless about anything involving him. When he took another step toward me, I moved back. We needed as much space between us as we could possibly get. Being too close to Blaine messed with my ability to

use my better judgment. He looked around, and I frowned wondering what he looking for. “What are you doing?” I finally asked. He faced me again. “I’m just wondering why you’re sitting all the way back here.” I stiffened and gripped the strap of my bag. The urge to flee from him was so strong I didn’t want to lose my schoolwork in the process. “It’s quiet back here,” I muttered. “It’s a library, Chelsey. It’s always quiet in here. Try again with another lie.” “The lighting’s better, too.” He looked around. “That’s because half the lights back here are out and no one bothers to change them because no comes back here.” “Well, I do. Plus, it’s less crowded back here. I can work without anyone interrupting me.” “I call bullshit on all three accounts. It’s a Saturday. The only ones here are the staff.” “You’re here,” I pointed out. “I’m not here to study.” “Then why are you here?” I asked. As soon as I asked the question I wanted to take it back. I knew when the words left my mouth that I didn’t want to know the answer. “I thought you’d never ask.” He licked his lips and then stalked toward me with a predatory smile. I backed up until my shoulders brushed against a bookshelf. He stopped, a hairsbreadth between us. He didn’t touch me, but I could feel the heat of his body against mine. My body was a treacherous bitch. Mentally, I wanted nothing to do with him. I wanted to hate him. But my body was a traitor, and physically I was begging for him. The space between my thighs cried for him and I found myself squeezing my legs together and enjoying the sensation. Warning bells sounded. “Stop it, Blaine,” I warned. “Stop what? I haven’t done anything… yet.” His heated breath struck my lips and I inhaled his minty flavor. My breath was shaky when I exhaled. “Why are you doing this?” I wanted to kick myself for how vulnerable I sounded.

“What am I doing?” His eyes moved over my lips. His hands came up and gripped the bookshelf behind my head as he leaned into me. “Tell me the truth, Chelsey. Do you come back here because it reminds you of the time we were in the library together?” I closed my eyes as the memories of us moved in. The way he pressed me against the shelves and worked my body into a frenzy. It was all too much. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Even if I did, that’s not why I come back here. I come back here to think,” I lied. “Oh, I see.” His expression told me he knew I was lying. “Were you thinking about me?” The nerve. I wanted to slap him, and I wanted to kiss him, but more than anything, I needed him to put out the flame blazing between my legs. The man made me crazy. “Yes. Actually, I was thinking about you.” I smiled inside when his eyes lit up. “In fact, I was thinking about what you said the other night about me being boring. You’re right, Blaine. I’m young, I’m in college, and I’m single. I’ve decided to take your advice. I’m going to start going out more. Maybe go on a few dates and loosen up.” I don’t know what I expected his reaction to be, but he shocked me. His face turned dark, his brows pulled in, in anger, and then his face cleared and he burst into laughter. His shoulders shook and his eyes watered with amusement. “Yeah. I’d like to see you try that, Little Doe.” He wiped at his face. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.” Anger ripped through me. He thought I wasn’t capable of getting a date. Either that, or he thought I was going to be a boring date. As far as I was concerned, Blaine had just dared me, and I never walked away from a dare. I pushed him hard in the chest and strode away with quick, determined steps. I left him in the back of the library alone with his laughter, while I went on the hunt.

********** MY DATING LIFE STARTED OUT with an epic fail. Of course, that could have more to do with Blaine than it did with me. I’d just left Mr. Woods class when I heard someone calling out my name. “Hey, Chelsey! Wait up!” The deep voice startled me, and I turned to see Charles jogging up to me. I smiled at him as he skidded to a stop next to me and bent to rest his hands on his knees and catch his breath. “Are you okay?” I asked, holding back a laugh.

He held up a finger above his head as if to tell me to give him a minute. When he looked up he squinted at the sun and took a deep breath before standing at full height. “Out of breath?” I asked. With his hands on his hips, he grinned down at me. “Only a little. I’m not much of a runner.” “Then why were you running across campus?” “To catch you.” He smiled again. “I wanted to see if you were ready for that date yet.” Technically, I wasn’t ready, but I had a plan. And after the last conversation I had with Blaine, I was definitely going through with it. “Are you asking me out?” “I thought that was obvious.” He chuckled. “Apparently, I’m doing this all wrong.” I laughed. “You’re not. I was just making sure.” “Yes. This is me asking you out on a date. I’m sorry. I’m not very good at the whole dating thing.” “Don’t worry. Neither am I. It’ll be our little secret.” “Good because I’d probably lose my man card for this one.” We both laughed. “So anyway, are you busy tonight? I know it’s short notice and if you have other plans I totally understand.” “No,” I was quick to say. This was going to happen. “I don’t have any plans.” He smiled, and I felt my cheeks warm hoping I didn’t sound as desperate as I felt. “Good. I’ll pick you up at your dorm tonight around six?” “Six is great, but I’m not in a dorm. I’m staying in an apartment off campus.” I pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down my address for him. His finger brushed mine when I handed it to him and sadly there was no spark. Still, I wasn’t about to let that stop me from going on a date with him. He looked down at the paper, and then smiled up at me. “Okay. I’ll see you at six.” “I’ll be ready.” I spent too long getting ready. I couldn’t decide on what to wear since I had no idea where Charles was taking me. The closer it got to six, the more my stomach twisted and turned. I wasn’t entirely sure it was because I was nervous for my date. I mean, I was, but not in an excited way. I felt like I was doing something wrong—like I was cheating on a certain someone. I knew I had no reason to feel that way, but I couldn’t help it. It made me angry that my heart still felt like it belonged to Blaine. Especially when I knew Blaine never wanted my

heart to begin with. Why couldn’t my heart understand that Blaine had left me with no regrets? He never tried to reach out to me after he left, and I needed him there to take away the pain of everything that was happening. The knock on the door scared me, and I jumped. A single tear rolled down my cheek and I swiped it away angrily. I hadn’t realized I was crying, but the memories were too much. As badly as I wanted to feel better and be over everything that happened, I wasn’t. There was another hesitant knock, and I rushed to pull it open. Charles’ cologne moved through the room, and I backed away to get some fresh air. “Hi,” he said with a sly smile. His eyes moved over my face, and his smile dropped. “Are you okay?” Crap! “I’m fine,” I said with cheer I didn’t feel. I plastered on a big, fake smile as I looked him over. “You look nice.” He was dressed casually in a white, Polo shirt, dark jacket and jeans and that made me feel better about my own outfit. “You look… amazing.” His brown eyes lit up. I flushed and looked down at myself. “I forgot to ask what we were doing, so I wasn’t exactly sure how to dress.” “It’s a surprise, but you’re dressed perfectly for tonight. Are you ready?” “Yes,” I said as I reached over and snagged my purse from the entrance table. I shut the door behind me, and we walked together down the hallway. It threw me off guard when he grabbed my hand and his fingers intertwined with mine. I didn’t want to make it awkward by looking at him, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from our hands. I took long, deep breaths as we walked toward his car, trying not to hyperventilate. The ride to where we were going was quiet. Charles held my hand the entire time and I kept wishing he’d let it go. I didn’t want to be rude and pull away, but my hand was starting to feel sweaty. It was gross. We pulled up to a big, grassy park. There were people as far as the eye could see, and off in the distance there was a large movie screen. I sat and waited as Charles came around to my side of the car and opened the door for me. I waited by the trunk as he opened it and pulled out a blanket and a basket. Then again, he grabbed my hand and we walked onto the field full of people. Half way to the screen, we found a great spot and Charles set the basket down to spread out the blanket. “This is amazing,” I said, grabbing one end of the blanket and helping him spread it out.

I was happy we’d found such a great spot because the park was completely full. We sat down, and I looked around as the massive crowd surrounding us. There was a constant stream of chatter and laughter while everyone mingled with their groups. “Yeah, I love coming to these things. They do them about once a month. I’m surprised you’ve never come out to one of these before.” “School is crazy. and I try not to fall behind by staying ahead, which means having no social life.” “Glad I’m not the only one.” He snorted. “Are you not from New York?” “Nope. I was born and raised in Georgia. Do you need any help?” I asked when he moved the basket in front of him and started to remove food. “I got it.” He smiled and winked at me. He looked down before he could see my reaction and I was glad for that. There was Blaine’s kind of winking, and then there was Charles’ kind. There was no competition. When I realized where my thought process was headed, I shook my head to rid my thoughts. “Are you from New York?” I asked. “Yep. My parents live in the city, but they might as well live on campus as much as they come to see me.” I laughed. “I consider myself lucky that my parents don’t live close to the school. They’d probably live on campus, too.” “Was Columbia your first choice?” I nodded. “It was my only choice since I could talk. My father went to Columbia so he was very excited for me to follow in his footsteps.” “Yeah, gotta love the pressure of following in family footsteps. Both of my parents went to Columbia, so there was no doubt in their minds that I’d go, too.” “What do your parents do?” It was nice to know I wasn’t the only one with strict parents, although, it sounded like Charles’ parents might’ve been a level above mine. “My father’s a broker and my mom’s an art director.” I heard his response, but it went in one ear and out the other. My lingering eyes landed on the one person I’d hoped I wouldn’t see again. Blaine. Was New York not big enough for the two of us or something? My heart sped up, and I silently prayed he wouldn’t see me. He was walking across the park like he owned it. Maddie, his little sister, held his hand and laughed at something he was saying to her. And then he looked up, and his eyes landed on mine. His expression changed from happiness and into confusion, before his brows pulled

down and anger passed over his face. Then him and Maddie changed direction, and I stopped breathing when I realized they were headed our way.



33 BLAINE EVERYTHING WAS A FUCKING MESS. EVERYTHING. I couldn’t think, and every time I could, my thoughts went straight to Chelsey. My bed smelled like her. My car reminded me of her. And even Maddie was asking who she was. She’d somehow pushed herself right back into my life without even trying. I was even starting to forget all the reasons I was supposed to hate her. I had to constantly close my eyes and replay the most horrific night of my life, just so I could get the hatred to move back in. I needed to hate Chelsey. It was the only thing that kept me going every day. So for two weeks, I walked around pissed off at the world. I snapped at Grandma a few times and had to apologize, and I’d even made Maddie cry, which made me feel like shit. I decided it was better for everyone if I stayed at work and stayed busy. So, when Chris asked me on Friday if I could work some on Saturday, I agreed. I spent the day out in the sun working on some shrubbery around Butler Library, one of the twenty-two libraries on Columbia University campus. The place was massive, with huge columns and windows tucked behind them. Something about the place reminded me of the Lincoln Memorial in Delaware, minus the big statue of President Lincoln. I’d gone there once with my parents when I was younger, and every time I looked at Butler Library it sent me back to that memory. It was a good memory so that was fine by me. I knew I’d be tired as hell when I got to the banana later that night, but fuck it. I was always tired anyway. I clipped at the shrubs, making them perfectly square, and wiped at the sweat that formed on my forehead. Reaching over to grab my water, I saw Chelsey making her way into the library. I debated following her, but decided to keep working. An hour later, she still hadn’t come out. A man only had so much self-control. So knowing it was a bad idea, I left the spot I was working, and went into the library looking for her. My plan was only to see her and leave. I didn’t plan on actually talking to her, but I did, and once again she made me so angry I felt fire inside. When she mentioned going out on dates I thought my head was going to explode, but I couldn’t let her see that. Instead, I

laughed away my anger. I shouldn’t have been upset with the thought of Chelsey going out with other guys, but I was. Jealousy ripped through me, scarring me inside with just the thought of her being with another man. I wasn’t sure if I was the only guy she’d even slept with, but I liked to think I was. There was no telling what Chelsey had done during the year after I left, but as long as I didn’t know about it, it couldn’t affect me. I’d know she was dating. I wouldn’t necessarily see it, but I’d know. After I was done for the day, I went home and showered before heading out on the two-hour drive to The Golden Banana. I wasn’t in the mood to have a bunch of women grabbing all on my shit, but again, bills didn’t pay themselves. I danced five different sets, and as much as it disgusted me, I fucked Rosie with a Viagra cock until she was screaming and collapsing on the couch. It wasn’t sexual for me at all. I was taking out my anger on her. It was good she just so happened to love rough sex. Once I was home and in the shower, I couldn’t even get myself off. I went to bed hungry with a painful hard-on and the fucked up desire to cry. Chelsey being in my life again wasn’t good. It brought up memories that were still so raw, painful things I didn’t think I’d ever get over. I needed her to go away, but I still wanted her so badly.

********** SUNDAY, I DECIDED I needed a day off. I’d been going non-stop and I could feel myself crashing mentally and physically. Still, I went to the gym and took out my frustrations with a hard workout. Once I was done at the gym, I went home to shower and get ready for the night I planned for Maddie. It had been so long since I’d taken her anywhere fun. I worked so much that it was easy to forget my little sister didn’t have much of a life outside of Grandma’s house. I strapped Maddie into the backseat of my car, and we sang along to the radio on the way to a park in the city. Once a month they’d set up a movie screen and play something decent. I figured it would be nice for Maddie to get some fresh air and we could catch a movie at the same time. I held a basket of sandwiches in one hand, and Maddie’s hand in the other on the way across the park. Every time I looked down, Maddie was smiling up at me. It was a good moment. One I wished my mom and dad could be there for. Then I looked up, and my eyes clashed with Chelsey’s. The park suddenly felt too small, the basket too heavy. She was looking right at me, and she wasn’t alone.

Ivy League sat across from her, plucking things from a basket and smiling entirely too much. I took in the scene the two of them made together, and decided right away I hated it. He was too stiff for her, too clean. Then again, wasn’t that what she wanted? Wasn’t that what her parents wanted for her? She looked delicious in a pair of jeans and a light blue sweater. Her hair was down, but I could tell she’d taken her time to put some curls in it. Ivy League reached out and grabbed her hand, and anger spilled into my stomach. She smiled up at him like the sun shined out of his ass and fire licked up my spine. Fuck no. This wasn’t going down. Not if I had anything to say about. Chelsey hurt me. She’d destroyed me at a time in my life when I needed her the most. She didn’t get to go out and date. She didn’t get to be happy. It wasn’t fucking fair. My legs were moving, and I was pulling Maddie along with me before I realized what I was doing. Then I was at their side looking down at the two of them. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words got stuck in my throat. Chelsey looked up at me anxiously like she was waiting on me to say something to ruin her date. She had to know I would’ve. “Blaine,” she said. “How are you doing?” Her question caught me off guard. Maddie tugged at my hand, taking my attention away from Chelsey. I looked down into her sweet, blue eyes and I knew I couldn’t make a scene in front of her. So instead of lashing out the way I wanted to, I turned back to Chelsey and smiled. “I’m good. Just spending some time with Maddie,” I said, swinging Maddie’s arm and making her giggle. “Well, it’s nice to see you again.” She smiled and then turned her eyes on Maddie. “Hi, Maddie. What a pretty shirt you’re wearing.” Her smile was stiff and all for show. I could tell by the stiffness in her spine she was still nervous. My eyes moved over her face and took in her anxious expression. Maddie tugged at her shirt and bashfully hid her face in my leg. “Blaine, this is Charles,” she said, motioning toward Ivy League. Charles was his name. Like the fucking King of England or some shit. His name was perfect for his stiff ass. He reached out to shake my hand, and I shook it, wishing I could rip it off. “Charles, this is a friend of mine from Georgia, Blaine.” A friend from Georgia. A fucking friend. I needed to go. I couldn’t stand there and say nothing. Especially when something sarcastic and angry was simmering just beneath my skin. The fact that she’d called me a friend made me want to lose my shit real quick. “Well, we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone to enjoy your date. How else is Columbia going to get their next generation?” I adjusted the lunch basket in my hand. I needed to go before the anger exploded, but apparently, I didn’t move fast enough. The words flew

from my mouth before I could stop them. “Good luck getting a response from this one, Charles. She’s a dead lay. Ask any of her friends.” Chelsey’s mouth dropped open and her face turned pale. I didn’t wait around to hear what she had to say. Instead, I tugged Maddie across the park toward my car. The movie and everything I planned was forgotten. I’d take Maddie somewhere else, somewhere away from Chelsey and Ivy League.



34 CHELSEY MY DATE WITH CHARLES WAS A BUST. I spent the rest of the date wishing it was over. After Blaine left us, Charles’ attitude toward me changed. I didn’t even bother filling him in on the situation. Another date with him was out of the question. Not only did Blaine ruin it, but I was completely bored, which said a lot. After Charles dropped me off at my door with a chaste kiss on the cheek, I went inside and went straight to bed. I didn’t get much sleep. Nightmares haunted me, and I kept waking up out of breath. By the time the sun was creeping in through the window, I knew my day was going to be crap. I had three classes to deal with and I’d gotten no sleep. I was lying in bed, watching the fan above me turn, when a loud knock sounded on my door. I never had unexpected company, so it was a shock to me. I climbed from the bed and dragged myself across my apartment to the door. Another knock sounded before the doorbell began to ring over and over again. “I’m coming!” I yelled out. Pulling the door open, Lynn stood there staring back at me. “Hey!” Her smile was huge as she tugged her suitcase behind her and squeezed between me and the doorframe. “Um… hi. What are you doing here?” “I’m surprising you, silly. Are you surprised?” She slammed her suitcase down on my couch, and fell beside it. Blowing a piece of hair from her face, she propped her feet up on my coffee table. “Yeah. I’m surprised.” “Good. Things are getting kind of crazy back home with Momma and Daddy so I thought I needed a break. Plus, we had such a great time together last time I was here.” Shutting the door, I turned to her with my hands on my hips. Something was off. Lynn wasn’t someone who’d just show up out of the blue. She wasn’t telling me something. “Okay. Now tell me the real reason you’re here.” I sat beside her on the couch. She laughed. “We’ve known each other too long.”

“You’re stalling,” I pointed out. “Okay, so I met someone.” “Okay. And?” “And he lives in New York.” “Wait. I’m confused. How did you meet someone in New York when you live in Georgia?” “Well, I kind of met him last time I was here.” “Oh my God. When? Why didn’t you tell me?” I pushed playfully at her arm. “Because I know you, Chelsey. You’re not going to approve of him.” “What do you mean? What’s wrong with him?” “Nothing. It’s just—” “It’s just what?” “Well, he’s kind of a male stripper.” “How can he be kind of a male stripper? Either he is or he isn’t.” “Okay. He’s a male stripper. I met him at The Golden Banana when we went for Sherry’s bachelorette party. And before you say anything, he’s amazing. He’s just working there to pay for college. He goes to Julliard. He’s an amazing dancer.” “Yeah. I bet the ladies shoving money in his underwear would agree.” “Come on, Chels. Don’t be like that. Anyway, we’ve been talking; Marshall and I, and well, I thought maybe I could stay here for a bit and get to know him better. I can help out anyway you want. I just really like him. Actually, I think I might be falling in love with him.” “You’re more than welcome to stay. Just be careful, Lynn.” “Always.” She smiled. “So, while we’re on the subject, I’m supposed to go to the club this Thursday to see Marshall.” I knew where she was headed. “No, Lynn. I’m not going back to that place. You can’t make me.” “Oh, geez, Chelsey. Don’t make it sound like I tortured you. You had a good time. What girl wouldn’t in a place like that?” “Me. I’m a girl who wouldn’t. It was hell.” “Yes. I saw the devil there. He was the one in the red thong with the six pack abs and monster cock. He possessed me with his moves. I need a preacher. Stat,” she said sarcastically. “I’m being serious, Lynn. I can’t go back there.” “Come with me.”

“No. You’re not pulling me into that strip club again. Seriously, it was hell last time.” I didn’t tell her I couldn’t go back because of Blaine. I had yet to admit he was there. Let her find out on her own. I didn’t want to see him again, and I definitely didn’t want to spend another night watching a bunch of guys get groped. “Please,” she begged. “Are you really going to send your best friend out on her own all the way to New Jersey? You’re my wing-girl. I need your support. Plus, I could get murdered and left in a ditch.” “I’m pretty sure Jersey doesn’t have ditches.” “Fine. I’ll be taken hostage by a fist-pumper with an orange tan and too much gel in his hair. That sounds equally bad. Is that what you want for your best friend?” I wasn’t going to win. I might as well give now and save myself the argument. “Fine, but I think there’s something you should know first.” If I was being forced to go to the strip club again, I at least didn’t want any surprises. “Blaine works there,” I blurted out. Lynn’s expression dropped and her face paled. “What?” “I saw him the last time we were there. You would’ve noticed, too, if it weren’t for the lighting and all the alcohol you’d had.” I ran my hands down my face roughly. “And now he’s everywhere. During the day he works for a lawn care company and every time I leave class he’s there trimming bushes and mowing the lawn. It’s been hell.” I couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears began to flow. She put her arms around me and held me tight. “Why didn’t you tell me this, Chelsey? I could’ve kicked his ass for you.” “It’s nothing. It’s just hard seeing him. It was completely unexpected.” “Yeah, I bet. So he’s been living in New York this whole time. What a fuck face.” “He can’t know how bad off I am. It’s embarrassing. If I go with you, there can’t be any drama.” “Maybe I should go alone. I didn’t know any of this. I would’ve never asked you to go back there if I’d known.” “I know, but I can’t run from him forever. Plus, what kind of friend would I be if I let you get caught up with a gorilla fist-pumper?” I laughed through my tears. “Just promise me no drama, and I’ll go.” She laughed with me. “It’s going to be hard, but I promise I’ll keep my lips sealed.” It was nice having Lynn there. Although she spent most of her time on the phone giggling in the spare room than she did with me, I wasn’t complaining. At least she had something to do while I had my face in a book studying. Thursday came way too fast, and soon we were getting ready to go to the strip club. I

was crazy nervous, but I knew I had to face him. He needed to know he didn’t have a hold on me anymore. Even though secretly he did. We left ten minutes later for the club. I could hardly believe I was returning. I was walking straight into the mouth of hell, and I was doing it willingly. But that’s what you did for friends. Lynn was there when I needed her. She’d been there to dry my tears after Blaine and after the baby. Being there for her was the least I could do. Even if it meant sticking myself in a room with Blaine and spending the night wishing I wasn’t there. The same bouncer was at the front door, except this time he was expecting us. I guess Marshall, Lynn’s new stripper boyfriend, had warned him. Again, we went through without our IDs being checked and again, Lynn went straight to the bar. I kept my eyes glued to her back the entire time. I didn’t want to let them wander and accidently land on Blaine. Maybe I’d end up lucky and he wouldn’t be working. That would be great. Then I could try and relax. There was a dancer on stage in a white G-string and a captain’s hat who was finishing his routine. Soon the MC was on the mic announcing the next dancer. “Okay, ladies. Are you ready to get hammered?” The MC said into the mic. The room full of women went crazy, and my heart dropped knowing Blaine was about to step on the stage. The MC continued to announce him, but I couldn’t hear anything over my heartbeat. Then the lighting changed color and he was on stage. He was dressed as a construction worker, his hard hat pulled low over his face. He held a sledge hammer, and when the beat switched, he stuck it between his legs and pretended it was his penis. He ran his hands down the sledge hammer like he was touching himself, and then he pumped it toward the crowd, making the women all but swoon. The bar dug into my back as I pressed against it with the need to disappear. “Is that him?” Lynn asked at my side. I couldn’t answer. Words were impossible. So instead I nodded my answer. “Damn, Blaine has grown in the last year.” I turned my eyes on her and she laughed. “Seriously? Is that all you can think about right now?” She covered her smile with her hand. “I’m sorry, but look at him. He was always sexy, but damn.” I swore I wouldn’t drink again, but it was needed. Reaching over for Lynn’s glass, I downed it in one gulp. The liquid burned through my stomach and did nothing to calm my nerves. When my eyes landed on the stage again, Blaine was already mostly naked, and pumping his hips in his signature jack hammer motion. My body felt heated, and no matter

how badly I wanted to turn away, I couldn’t. Then his eyes met mine across the room, and he was jumping from the stage and coming my way. I panicked. I looked around for a place to hide, but I wasn’t quick enough. He scooped me up, earning a loud response from the women in the room, and tossed me over his shoulder. I held on to his hot skin as he jumped back onto the stage. I wanted to fight him—I wanted to throw a fit—but there were so many eyes on us. All I could do was go with it when he laid me flat on the stage. He leaned over me, his mostly naked body hot against mine. Then he proceeded to do a few push-ups on top of me, teasing my breasts with his chest every time he came down on me. He smirked as he thrust his hips against me. “Isn’t this how you used to like it?” he said for my ears only. The music was so loud around us there was no way anyone could’ve heard him anyway. “You used to love it when I pressed my hard cock against you,” he said, thrusting his hips into me as he grinned into the crowd. “I wonder if I can get you off in front of all these people.” His hardness pressed into me, and a tiny moan I hoped he didn’t hear moved past my lips. Thankfully, he kept looking out into the crowd of women instead of down at me. It was all for show, but still, my body responded the way it used to. It felt unnatural considering there were so many people staring at us. “Blaine, stop,” I said, making him turn his eyes on me. “What’s wrong, Little Doe? You came to the strip club. I’m just giving you the full experience.” Then he spread my legs wider, my skirt bunching around my thighs as he held himself above me with his arms and worked his body into mine. My body was flushed from embarrassment and desire. Closing my eyes, I pretended I wasn’t there. I pretended I wasn’t being dry humped in a room full of horny women. I pretended Blaine wasn’t above me making my body weep with want… making the beginnings of an orgasm climb up my spine. It was wrong. So wrong. Finally, he pulled me up, kissed my hand for show, and let me climb from the stage. I ran like a scared, little girl straight to the bathroom. Lynn was on my heels. “I can’t believe he just did that,” I said, ripping a paper towel from the dispenser. I wiped furiously at any skin he’d touched. I could smell him. I could still feel him. “What an asshole,” Lynn muttered. “Say the words, Chels, and I’ll kick his ass.” Her face was red and flushed from her anger and alcohol. “No. Don’t. Go back out there with Marshall. I’m fine. I just hadn’t expected him to do that.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? If I didn’t hate him so much I’d say that was actually pretty hot.” Wiping at my face, I looked at her like she was crazy, making her giggle. “Just give me minute to collect myself. I’ll be right out.” “Okay.” Lynn grinned. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were totally turned on.” I tossed my paper towel at her face before she let the bathroom door shut behind her. She was right, as usual. While I was seriously embarrassed, I was more turned on than I’d been in my entire life.



35 BLAINE EVEN IF I HADN’T TAKEN a dose of Viagra for work, I would’ve been hard as a rock. Damn, Chelsey did something to my cock I couldn’t put into words. I almost came just pressing into her on stage in front of a room full of women. She felt just as amazing as she did a year before—sweet and soft in all the right places —and completely clueless to how perfect her body was. It was wrong to still want her. It made me a weak man considering how badly she’d hurt me, but I couldn’t help it. She was everything I’d ever wanted. After my set, I stayed in the back to collect myself. If I stayed in the back, I wouldn’t have to see her face. I was confused by the fact that she was there. I never thought I’d see her face at the banana again. What was she doing there? She wasn’t with a group of girls or anything. Was she there for me? As soon as the thought went through my mind, I dismissed it. It didn’t pay to start thinking crazy shit. It was over. We were over. She’d made it so the night she went off fucking with Josh, the night my life shattered around me and I needed her. I wiped at the sweat running down my face and downed a bottle of water. I had to get my head right. I still had a full night of work ahead of me, and Grandma’s new prescriptions were fucking expensive as hell. I didn’t have the luxury of getting off track… even if my heart and mind needed a night to get their shit together. “Hey, man, you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost,” Marshall said. He’d just got off stage, doing his football player routine, which the women loved. He was a big motherfucker, with huge shoulders. The football uniform was perfect for him. We’d grown close since I started working at the banana. Not close enough to hangout outside of work, but he was one of the boys I trusted the most. He was a good guy. “Yeah, man, I’m good. Just tired.” “Well, you better put some pep back in your step. You got the back rooms tonight, too. Plus, my girl came tonight. I want you to meet her.” He grabbed my shoulder and shook it. “Well, speak of the devil. Here she is now.”

I looked up and my eyes clashed with Lynn’s. I hadn’t seen her since high school, but she looked exactly the same. Beside her stood Chelsey. Both were staring at me letting their eyes drop to my hard cock. I had on my G-string, but it left little to the imagination. Chelsey had already seen everything I had to offer, it was Lynn’s eyes on me that made me flinch. “We keep running into each other, huh, Little Doe?” Marshall’s brow pinched in. “You guys know each other?” “We went to high school together,” Lynn said. “This is the asshole who broke my best friend’s heart.” I laughed. She was obviously clueless about the situation. Of course, she’d only know Chelsey’s side, and of course, Chelsey would make herself out to be a fucking saint. “You think that’s funny?” Lynn snapped. My eyes moved over Chelsey. Her shoulders were tense and she was digging her nails into Lynn’s arm as if to tell her to shut the fuck up. “I think it’s funny you believe that bullshit.” I stood. “I have work to do. Women to please. If you don’t mind.” I walked past them, ignoring Lynn’s glare. Stopping at Chelsey’s side, I bent down and whispered, “Thanks for the ride on stage. I felt how wet you were through your panties. It’s nice to know I still got it when it comes to you.” Her eyes cut across my face and her lips pinched together. “Fuck you, Blaine.” Her words shocked me and turned me on all at once. “Been there done that.” I left her standing there with her mouth wide open and angry eyes. Fuck it. Fuck it all to hell. I spent the rest of the night in the back rooms. Even though it felt wrong, I fucked two women. It was becoming harder and harder to do my job. Especially when all I could think about was Chelsey. It was like I was tainting our memories together or something, which honestly, they’d been tainted for over a year. None of it made any sense to me. Going in the last room for the night, I found Rosie sitting on the couch waiting for me. She was a big spender, but I just wasn’t feeling it. Still, I gave her what she came for. “You going to come on this fat cock?” I asked as I fucked her hard and fast. “Yes. Please make me come, Jack,” she screamed out. The sounds of our bodies filled the room as I took out my frustrations on her pussy. I kept my eyes closed the entire time. The burn of guilt so strong I felt sick to my stomach. “Fuck! Your cock is the best, baby. It’s so fucking good. I love it when you fuck me like this. Fuck me like your little whore.”

I pulled her hair, making her gasp at the pain of it, and then I smacked her ass hard, making my palm sting. “You like getting fucked like a little whore? Oh, I’ll fuck you like a little whore. You’re Jack’s little slut, aren’t you, dirty girl?” “Yes. I’m your slut. I’m your dirty, nasty whore.” And then she fell apart around me. It was then that tears threatened. I blinked them away as I kept going, fucking her through her orgasm and feeling like the biggest piece of shit to ever grace the Earth. Then I opened my eyes, and my heart stopped. Chelsey was standing at the door staring back at me. She was watching me with shocked eyes as I fucked another woman. She’d seen me pull Rosie’s hair and smack her ass. She’d heard me say all the vile things Rosie liked to hear… things I’d never dream of saying to Chelsey. In that moment, I cracked. I couldn’t do this anymore. I’d known for a while it was coming, but I was done. I couldn’t continue to fuck women like this—to have them use me the way the girls in high school used to—the way I believe Chelsey did. I pulled out, my cock still hard as a rock, and I blushed with embarrassment when Chelsey looked down at my condom-covered cock. Then she was gone, and the door slammed behind her. Tugging my jeans over my hips, I left Rosie lying on the couch and went after Chelsey. She was speed-walking down the hallway and I caught up with her easily. “Chelsey, wait,” I said, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. “I’m sorry.” I don’t know why I said those words. It’s not like I meant anything to her anyway. I never had and probably never would, but still, I felt so fucking bad. I felt sick to my stomach knowing she’d seen me with another woman. I knew what it felt like. She’d done the same with me. I should’ve been happy she’d walked in. I should’ve been a lot of things, but I wasn’t. Chelsey hurt me, but I wasn’t so sure I had it in me to hurt her anymore. “You have nothing to be sorry about,” she said. She swallowed and blinked at the tears that filled her eyes. “You’re a single man, Blaine. You can do whatever you want.” “But you’re upset. I can tell you’re upset.” The bigger question was, why I gave a flying fuck that she was upset. She hadn’t cared about my feelings a year before when she was out having a fucking blast with fuck face. Then she shocked me. “Blaine, why did we never do it like that?” she asked. My grip on her arm loosened and I looked down at her in confusion. “Excuse me?” She blushed and looked away. “You were always so soft and sweet with me. Why? Were you not into it with me like you were with her?” I could hardly believe my ears. Did this woman not know what she did to me? Did she

not know the things she did to my body or my mind? Of course, I was always soft and sweet with her. Chelsey was soft and sweet, and I’d been her first. I didn’t want to hurt her or scare her, but it never mattered. She was always the best I’d ever been with. “Is that what you want, Chelsey. You want it rough?” I felt myself lean into her. She was like a fucking magnet with me. Always a fucking magnet. “Yes.” Her eyes widened at her confession. “I’m sick of being treated like a princess. I want what that woman had.” My cock jerked at the thought of fucking her. Giving it to her exactly like she wanted it, but I couldn’t. I still smelled of another woman. I was still sweaty from fucking another. I couldn’t touch her. Not the way I was. Chelsey deserved so much more, and I wanted to give her more. “I can’t do that with you,” I said honestly. I couldn’t. Not at that moment at least. Not until I was cleansed of the dirty shit I’d been doing in the club. “Well, if you can’t, I’ll find someone who can,” she snapped. Then something crazy happened. I let her see my cards. I hadn’t even realized how adamant I was about Chelsey being with someone else. I knew it bothered me, but I didn’t understand how badly until she talked about another man fucking her senseless. The thought of another man touching her lit fire to my nerves, and I slammed my fist into the wall beside her. “No one touches you. Got it?” My teeth grinded together, the muscle in my cheek popped painfully. She pushed against my chest, her angry eyes matching mine. “Why not? You can do it! You can get on stage and show all those women all your business. You can fuck them until they’re collapsing on the couch, but I can’t,” she yelled, her voice echoing off the black walls surrounding us. “If you can do it, then so can I!” “Over. My. Fucking. Dead. Body.” I emphasized each word. And I meant them. I didn’t care what I had to do. “That’s too bad. Your little sister’s going to miss you.” Then she tugged her arm loose and ran away from me. I started to go after her, but Rosie was at my side rubbing her hand down my arm. “Everything okay, lover?” she asked. I pulled my arm away from her, hating the way her touch felt. “No. Everything’s not fucking okay.”



36 CHELSEY THE NEXT MORNING, I woke up embarrassed by my last conversation with Blaine and a beating headache. I couldn’t believe I’d confessed something so personal to him. I blamed it on the stage ride he’d given me, which made me so hot I spent the rest of the night squeezing my legs together. The stage ride, mixed with the alcohol Lynn gave me, and the hurt I felt when I went looking for him and found him having raw, unadulterated sex with another woman, was a deadly combination for me. I found myself desperate and blabbing like an idiot about the things I wanted. Pulling myself from my bed, I went into the kitchen to find Chelsey and Marshall making breakfast. I’d almost forgotten that I’d agreed he could spend the night with her. “Good morning, Sunshine!” Lynn sang. She was sitting on the counter in her pajamas while Marshall, the massive male stripper, stood in a pair of boxer briefs and fed her bacon. I guess being a stripper meant you had no shame whatsoever with your body. “Morning,” I mumbled. “So, last night was crazy, right?” Lynn asked cautiously. “The craziest,” I yawned. I’d say whatever I had to, to shut her up. I didn’t want to talk about Blaine in front of Marshall. I didn’t want him running back and telling Blaine a bunch of stuff he didn’t need to know. “Are you okay?” “Seriously, I’m fine. It’s not a big deal.” I changed the subject quickly, grabbed a cup of coffee, and went back to my room to get ready for my day. Two classes and three cups of coffee later, I was falling back into my apartment. Lynn met me at the door wearing a sexy, white dress and curls in her hair. Her makeup was perfection, and her smile let me know she was up to something else.

“Get dressed,” she said, clapping her hands excitedly. “No. Not this again. Please, Lynn, I’m exhausted.” “Trust me. You want to go back tonight. Blaine’s going to be there.” “So, what? He was there last night. He works there.” “Yeah, but tonight we’re going to make you look so sexy he won’t know what to do with himself.” “And why would I do that?” “Because it’s like a rite of passage or something. Every girl knows when a guy breaks your heart, you have to get him back. What better way to do that than to get sexy and flirt with other men. Stripper men. Sexy stripper men like my Marshall.” I stood and stared back at her. She was crazy. There was no denying that. If she thought for even a second I was going back to that place she was seriously misunderstood. “No,” I said adamantly. “Yes. Seriously, go get a shower. This is happening. I need this, Chelsey. I need you to get back at him,” she begged. “Plus, we’re only staying for an hour. We have dinner plans tonight.” “We do?” “Yep. Just me and you.” “You’re going to drive me to drink, woman,” I said, dragging myself down the hall to my room. “Good. A few drinks is just what you need.” Three hours later, and I was sitting at the bar at The Golden Banana, wearing a black dress that was entirely too short, and a pair of Lynn’s hooker heels. I had a face full of makeup on, and my hair was pulled up and curled. In an hour, Lynn managed to turn me into her. I sipped my drink and nodded my head to the music as I pretended I wasn’t nervous. It was amateur stripper night, which meant lots of laughs for Lynn and me. I actually found myself having a good time. I don’t know if was the shots we were taking, or the fact that I hadn’t seen Blaine the whole time I was there, but I laughed with Lynn and actually relaxed. I didn’t even notice we were still there an hour past the point when we were supposed to leave. “Another!” Lynn shouted over the music as she pushed a shot glass in my direction. “To a lifelong friendship. I always got your back, girl,” she toasted. I held up my shot glass with a smile before I shot it. The liquid barely burned on its way down. “You know what?”

“What?” I giggled. “You should get up there,” she said, pointing to the stage where an older woman was busy pulling her shirt over her head. “Yeah. I think not.” I laughed. “I’m serious. If he can do it, then why can’t you?” The last conversation I’d had with Blaine flew through my mind. Hadn’t I said the same thing to him? “I’m not going up there and stripping,” I said, taking another sip of my drink. “Ah come on, Chels. You’d look great up there.” I opened my mouth to disagree, when Blaine’s voice broke into our conversation. “Chelsey doesn’t have what it takes. Never has. Never will.” I turned on him. “Excuse me?” “That sounded a bit like a dare if you ask me,” Lynn said at my side. She covered her grin behind her cup, before she turned his way and narrowed her eyes at Blaine. I was starting to worry she’d have too much to drink and break her promise and start some drama with him. “You heard me. You won’t do it. You couldn’t even if you tried.” He snorted. “You wouldn’t last one minute up there.” “Oh please. How hard can it be to dance around a stage with all your business hanging out?” The minute the words left my lips, I knew he’d counter. “Fine, rich girl. Put your money where your mouth is. Let’s see you get up there and shake your ass.” I swallowed hard. What had I gotten myself into? There was no way I was getting up there and stripping. But then Blaine said the magic words. “I fucking dare you.” I downed one more shot from Lynn, and turned toward the stage. The tall heels suddenly seemed too hard to walk in, but I meant I was getting on that stage. I didn’t care to dance a whole song. As long as I lasted at least a minute. Once I was on the stage, I felt like I was going to puke. The lighting changed in my eyes, and the music felt too loud. Looking out into the crowd, there suddenly seemed to be more people in the room. They were staring at me, waiting for me to move, but I couldn’t. I was glued to the spot. Looking out across the crowd at Lynn, my eyes met Blaine’s. He smiled smugly up at me and shook his head. The asshole.

So, it was with a new resolve and a stomach full of shots, that I began to move my hips. The crowd started to cheer, which only pushed me to move a little more. I danced to the music with closed eyes, running my hands up my body and losing my fingers in my hair. I bit into my bottom lip in an attempt to be sexy, and bent my knees, opening my legs and letting the entire front row get a view of my panties. The crowd exploded. Men who came in for amateur night whistled, and the ladies in the crowd egged me on. My fingertips teased the bottom of my dress, and I pulled it up a tiny bit, giving the crowd a peek at my thighs. I was moving slow to the fast music, but it seemed to be working. Then my eyes met Blaine’s again, and I gave him a cocky smile as I ran my fingers down the side of my neck and licked my lips. I was doing this, and apparently, I was doing a pretty good job. I smiled to myself when I knew I reached the one minute mark and confidence bloomed within me. Reaching behind me, I slowly unzipped the back of my dress and caught the top of it before it slid from my body. I teased the crowd, showing them a tiny peek of my black bra every now and again, until finally, I let the dress fall around my ankles. I was dancing around the stage in a pair of black panties, a black, lace bra, and Lynn’s hooker heels, and I felt amazing. The crowd was eating it up and so was I. I’d never felt so sexy. I’d never felt so in control. And then I wasn’t. Suddenly, Blaine was on the stage. His angry eyes dug into mine as he scooped up my dress and tossed me over his shoulder. I beat at his back as he carried me off stage. “Put me down, Blaine. I’m sick of you manhandling me all the time!” I yelled. He ignored me as he took me toward the back and through one of the doors of the back rooms. Then he was pressing me against the wall and growling down at me like a hungry bear. “What the fuck, Chelsey?” he roared. “What?” I asked. “You dared me!” “Yeah because I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” “Shows how much you know. You don’t know me anymore, Blaine,” I seethed. “Well, you’re not doing that. I don’t want those people seeing you naked.” “What a hypocrite! So you can show your ass to the world, but I can’t. I don’t think so. You lost all rights to me, Blaine.” I felt myself cracking. “You lost all rights the minute you picked up and left me without even a word. You didn’t even say goodbye!” Tears rushed to my eyes and I cursed them. I didn’t want to be sad. I wanted to be

angry. I wanted to be so pissed off that I could slap him. He tugged at the ends of his hair, his eyes turning redder. His face flushed and I thought for a second he was about to explode. “You’re not serious right now?” he snarled. “I fucking saw you, Chelsey!” He moved closer, his face hovering right above mine as he stared down at me. “What do you mean you saw me?” I was confused. “I saw you with that asshole jock! I saw you with Josh.” He placed his hands on wall beside my head, boxing me in and pressing his hard body against me. “I needed you so fucking bad, and you were out with that piece of shit on a fucking date. You told you me you loved me, and then you were out with him.” I couldn’t believe my ears. Blaine had been there? He had no idea what he was talking about. I felt sick to my stomach knowing how badly things had gotten mixed up. “You saw Josh kiss me?” I asked. He closed his eyes and growled. “No, I didn’t see it. I was on the roof waiting for you, and I saw y’all walking up on the porch. But it’s nice to know you enjoyed yourself and kissed that piece of shit.” “No, Blaine. You have it all wrong. If you knew anything, you’d know he tried to kiss me. I slapped him before I slammed the door in his face.” I matched his angry stare. I could practically feel smoke coming from my ears. “Why didn’t you talk to me? You should’ve at least demanded answers before you just up and left me. I would’ve done that for you. How could you have even thought for a minute I’d do something like that to you? After everything that happened between us. I gave myself to you, Blaine. All of myself. I gave you a part of myself I can never get back. You put me through hell because you assumed something.” I exploded. All the memories. All the pain I felt. It all came crashing down on me and I found myself hitting him over and over again in his chest. I beat at his chest with tiny fists and he let me. He stared down at me, confusion deep in his brows, as he let me take all my hurt and frustration out on him. And then he grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. I gasped at the sensation of his body against my naked stomach. “Fine. You want rough? I’ll fucking give you rough.” And then his mouth came crashing down on mine in a forceful and demanding kiss that scrambled my thoughts. I struggled against his hold, but his hands kept mine pinned to the wall. I pressed my body toward his, needing to feel him everywhere, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more. He ripped his lips from mine, allowing me a deep breath, and then his mouth was on my neck. He kissed, licked, and sucked, driving me crazy with want. I moaned in

pleasure as I brought up my leg and wrapped it around his hip to draw him closer. He brought a hand down, running it along my side and making me whimper in need, before he dipped his finger into my panties. “Is this what you want?” he asked against my neck. “You want me to touch your sweet pussy?” I bit into my lip and pressed myself into his palm, praying he’d touch me. And then he did. His finger slipped across my engorged clit making me shake and cry out. My wrists burned in his grasp as I tugged and pulled at them. He slipped two fingers in me, pressing against my G-spot and making me pant. My breath came in quick burst, and sweat trickled down my back. “Yes,” I rasped, pushing the back of my head hard against the wall behind me. “Does that feel good, baby. You like having my fingers deep inside you?” “Uh huh,” I mumbled, words being beyond me. “I’m going to make you come so hard. You’re going to soak my fingers, and when you’re done, I’m going to suck your sweet juices from them.” His words moved though my body like a touch. His fingers worked me, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. “Then once I’ve tasted you, I’m going to fuck you like a little slut. Is that what you want, Chelsey? You want to be my little slut?” I didn’t answer. Instead, I came long and hard. My knees weakening and my body going loose. The hand he used to keep my arms pinned above me was the only thing holding me up. My wrists burned and my arms ached and pulled as my weight pulled on them. I cried out his name, soaking his fingers the way he’d told me I would as I tighten and loosed around them. I bit into my lip so hard I was sure I tasted blood. But I didn’t care. All I cared about was the amazing release he was giving me. My body shook when he pulled his fingers from my body. When he released my arms, I let them fall to my sides as I tried to catch my breath. Blaine brought his fingers to his lips, sucking the glazed moisture from his fingers with a grin. “Fuck. You taste amazing.” He leaned over me, and pressed his lips to mine, filling my mouth with my unique flavor. I kissed him back, sucking his tongue like a starved woman as I prayed he wouldn’t stop. I’d been so deprived over the last year. I wanted so much more. My body needed it. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer and rubbing myself against his hard body. He pulled back and grinned down at me. “Don’t worry, baby. There’s more.”

He reached down and took my hand, before pulling me over to the couch in the center of the room. He pushed me down onto the leather, before pressing his hands into backrest and leaning over me. “I only have one question for you, Chelsey,” he said, running his nose down the side of my cheek and forcing goose bumps down my body. “Are you ready to be fucked?” It shocked me to hear him be so blunt, but at the same time I was so turned on. My body was soaked for him. I was aching and needing him more than ever before. “Yes,” I breathed. “Fuck me, Blaine.” His eyes widened at my use of words. “Take your fucking bra off. I want to see your tits,” he demanded. Part of me knew I should’ve been offended by how he was talking to me, but I wasn’t. I bit into my bottom lip as I went to work on my bra. He reached down and pulled my lip from my teeth before he leaned down and sucked it into his mouth. Once my bra was loose, I pulled it off and tossed it to the floor. Then he was on top of me, covering my breasts with kisses and sucking my nipples into his mouth until I could barely breathe. He was wild and inhibited, taking what he wanted without caring about whether or not I’d be offended. I cried out in pleasure when he softly bit my nipple sending shivers down my body and making me quake. Coming up, he kissed me hard, branding my mouth with his and making me work to keep up with him. He wedged his body between my legs, pressing his hard cock against my soaked panties. I clawed at his back, pulling him to my body with desperation. “Please, Blaine,” I begged. He leaned back, his icy eyes devouring my face. Then a sexy grin split his face as he reached between us and ripped my panties from my body. His ran them over his nose breathing them in and growling with appreciation before he stuffed them in the back pocket of his jeans. “I’m going to give you what you want,” he said. Leaning away from me, he flipped me onto my stomach easily and then yanked my hips up. I dug my fingers into the leather couch. Looking over my shoulder, I watched as he pulled a condom from his pocket and began to unbutton and unzip his jeans. His pushed them down his hips, his hard cock popping out, thick and ready for me. My eyes were glued to his hands as he rolled the condom over his length. His eyes clashed with mine when he adjusted my hips and readied himself at my entrance. “You sure this is what you want?” he asked.

I’d never been surer of anything. I was still hurt. I was still angry, but my need outweighed all those emotions at the moment. “Yes.” I cried out loudly as he entered me in one hard, swift movement. He hissed at the sensation of being settled deep inside of me. Things got crazy from that point on. Blaine tugged on my hair, forcing my face close to his so he could kiss me hard as his body slammed into mine. The sensation was too much. The pressure of his hard, thick length devouring the space between my legs was wonderful. “Is this what you want? You want me to fuck you like a little whore?” He lifted my leg, allowing him to go deeper and I cried out. It felt so good. Better than good. He felt amazing. “Yes. Please don’t stop. Yes!” Already an orgasm was tickling my spin and spreading into my thighs. My ass stung when he spanked it, and I hissed with pleasure and pain before he rubbed the spot softly. He tugged on my hair again, making my neck arch, and then he smacked my ass again. I’d never experienced anything like it. He was being rough, and I loved every second of it. “Fuck. You’re getting close already aren’t you? I can feel your pussy getting tighter and wetter.” The more he talked the closer I got to coming. “That’s it, baby. Come all over my cock. I want to feel that pussy come all over me.” I exploded. Screaming out words I’d never said before and digging my nails into the leather couch. He released my hair and dug his fingers into my hips, pulling me into his abusive thrusts and letting me ride him until my body was shaking and on the verge of collapsing. “Fuck. I’m going to come. Fuck, yes,” he called out. And then he growled out his release, slamming his hard body into mine and holding himself there as if the pleasure had stunned him still. My arms gave out on me, my face and body collapsed into the couch. I was exhausted and completely satisfied. My nerves hummed with gratification and my bones felt like putty. He laid on top of me, his hot, hard breaths in my ear. And then he softly kissed the side of my cheek. “Let me take you home,” he breathed. And even though I knew it was wrong, I couldn’t say no.



37 BLAINE I CAN’T EXPLAIN THE FEELING I had when Chelsey stood on stage and peeled her dress off. I barely remembered moving toward the stage. It was like I blacked out. Just the thought of everyone looking at what was mine made me crazy. Nothing was settled. Although she swore she’d slapped Josh when he tried to kiss her, that still didn’t explain why she was out with him in the first place. I still didn’t have the closure I needed when it came to Chelsey, but I couldn’t take it anymore. She looked so fucking hot in her bra and panties. She was fucking perfect to me, she always had been. And once I tasted her, I was done. I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to. Hearing her beg for my cock was too much for me. One, because Chelsey didn’t usually have a filthy mouth, and two, because I could see it in her eyes she wanted me just as badly as I wanted her. I fucked her like no other—giving myself to her like I never did with any other woman —and it was amazing. I came hard and fast, filling the condom and wishing I was filling her body. We dressed, and left the room in silence. She said goodbye to Lynn, who kept rolling her eyes at me, and we left her in Marshall’s capable hands. We took my car to her apartment, and I kept looking over at her and watching the lights from oncoming cars move across her skin. I didn’t know what it was we were doing, and even though I knew it was wrong, it felt so right. Being with her—taking her home—it felt right. The car ride to her place was quiet, and the urge to reach over and taker her hand was strong, but I couldn’t give in. Not yet. Not until I understood her reason for being with Josh that night. I couldn’t let it go. I wanted to, but the pain of needing her and her not being there was still so strong. I followed her into her apartment, knowing she wasn’t wearing any panties beneath her dress. I hadn’t taken any Viagra since I knew I was done fucking the women in the back room, but already I was rock hard again. It was nice getting a hard-on and knowing it was because of Chelsey and not the prescription. Knowing it was her body and the way she made me feel. I wouldn’t have to go home and beat-off before bed. My cock wouldn’t be in so much pain that it hurt to touch it.

I was done with all that. The inside of her apartment was organized, but still felt comfortable. She’d made it feel like home. I imagined it was a lot different from the massive house she grew up in. It was small, and full of love and books. It was Chelsey’s place. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back,” she said, dropping her keys and purse on the kitchen counter. I nodded and took a seat on the couch. I let my eyes move around the room and took in the pictures. Mostly pictures of Chelsey and a few friends. She was smiling in the pictures, but something wasn’t right. I couldn’t help but feel like maybe she’d spent the last year just as miserable as me. Water turned on down the hallway, and I looked toward the sound to see a light shining beneath the door. She was in the bathroom. Probably taking a shower. No way could I sit there knowing she was naked down the hall washing me from her skin. I followed the noise, the sounds of my steps quiet against the hallway floor, until I stood in front of the door. I tried the knob, and the door opened. Stepping into the foggy space, my eyes landed on her naked body blurred behind the shower door. I dropped my jacket to the floor and peeled my shirt off. I pulled my boots off and then I dropped my pants, taking my boxers down with them. I stood there, naked, with my throbbing cock in my hand. Then I went to the shower door and opened it. She gasped and spun around. “Blaine. What are you doing?” I didn’t answer as I stepped into the shower with her and closed the door behind me. Her eyes moved down my body and she bit into her bottom lip, which made me crazy. Using my thumb, I pulled her lip from her teeth and kissed her. The hot water of the shower moved over us, flushing her soft skin and making it balmy to the touch. She kissed me back, her tongue mingling with mine as her soft moans filled my mouth. Pulling back, I rested my forehead against hers and closed my eyes. The moment was too perfect, her smell too sweet. “I know you liked it rough before, but I’m going to go slow this time. I want to take my time and enjoy every part of you,” I said. She looked up at me through dark lashes, her wide, doe eyes smiling. She nodded and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me back in for another kiss and I took it. I breathed her in, tasted her like I had all those months ago. I closed my eyes and forgot about the pain. I forgot about everything but Chelsey. My hands moved over her wet body, touching and feeling everything she was. She pressed her head against the tile and gave me plenty of room to taste her neck and shoulders. It was perfect… all of it. And when I took her against the wall with her arms and legs

wrapped around me, it was slow. I pushed my hardened length into her body, feeling the pull and squeeze of her wetness and loving every second of it. We exploded, her cries echoing throughout the bathroom and marking the memory of the moment in my brain forever.

********** I STAYED THE NIGHT WITH HER, and we made love once more before the sun came up. She slept in my arms, her face snuggled into my body, and I slept better than I had in a long time. I woke before her and watched her sleep like a fucking psycho, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to get another moment with her again. I wasn’t sure I wanted another moment with her. Now that the fog of the night had settled, it was day, and with the sun came all the old memories, the old pain. “Good morning,” I said, when her eyes opened and she was stretching. “Morning.” Her voice was raspy and sexy from sleep. “We need to talk.” She nodded in agreement. “First, I need to know why you were out with Josh that night.” I had to stop being an asshole. I needed to take a breather and let her tell me what happened. I could decide when she was done whether or not I believed her. She started explaining. She told me about the dinner with the mayor and her father’s political aspirations. She explained how her mother pushed her and Josh to go out, and how they went to a movie and she spent the entire night trying to get back home as soon as possible. Then she told me again how Josh kissed her and she slapped him. Her eyes stayed on mine throughout her entire explanation—unwavering in her truth— and I believed her. A year had been wasted because I hadn’t taken the time to listen, and now, just as simple as that, I believed her. I wanted to open up to her. I wanted to tell her about how my parents. I wanted her to hold me the way I needed her to the night it happened, but I didn’t. I couldn’t even if I tried. The words had been stuck in my throat for the past year. I didn’t want her to feel sorry for me. If she was with me, I wanted it to be because it’s what she wanted, not because she felt bad for me. “What about you?” she asked. “Why did you run off like that? You could’ve at least asked me, Blaine. You could’ve at least—” She stopped. “I know. I wish I would’ve.”

And I did. I regretted not going to her and arguing. I regretted the way I ran, but I was hurt, and I didn’t know how to deal with everything that was going on. I’d explain to her later, once I knew she was with me for me and no other reason. “Can we try again?” I asked, my voice broke with the words. She looked away with tears forming in her eyes. “I don’t know if I can,” she breathed. My heart dropped. I wasn’t sure I could go without her anymore. Especially not after our night together. Chelsey was mine. She’d always been mine and I’d always be hers. “Why not?” I was afraid of her answer. “It took me a long time to get over you, Blaine. To be honest, I’m not sure I’m completely over you. I don’t know if I ever will be. But I know I can’t trust you. I can’t trust you not to bail on me without talking to me. I can’t do the last year over again. I don’t have it in me.” “I’m sorry,” I said, understanding her. The last year had been hell for me, as well, but I couldn’t lose her again. “Just think about it, okay? Can you just promise you’ll think about it?” She smiled sadly and nodded at me. “I will. I just need time.” “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait for you. Always.” Then I leaned down and kissed her softly, taking in all she was and storing it in a place deep in my heart.







38 CHELSEY “LADIES, WELCOME TO THE STAGE,” Eric, the MC, said into the mic. “The teaser! The Pleaser! Jack! Hammer!” He held the word hammer for what seemed like forever before he spun on his foot, sweeping his arm wide across the stage. The lights went out and darkness covered the room. The club was packed with screaming women, both young and old, as they waited for Blaine to appear. I stood in the back, and I realized my heart was beating in anticipation of seeing Blaine perform. Two blue spotlights from the front of the stage lit up the silver curtain hanging from the ceiling, concealing whatever character Blaine was tonight. The music began to play, and that signaled another wave of screams from the women. When the curtains finally parted Blaine stood there. He was dressed like a sexy cowboy, a pair of jeans hung loosely on his hips. His chest was bare and glistened under the spotlights. His head was bent and he wore a cowboy hat that covered his face. A remixed version of “Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy” by Big and Rich blared through the speakers, and as the beats changed, colored spotlights flashed across the stage. Blaine began to move across the stage with a sexiness that was undeniable. He moved in a slow, seductive dance, moving toward the crowd of cock-hungry women who reached out their arms for him. While I didn’t like the idea of other women’s hands on Blaine, I understood why they wanted to touch him. His body was young and tight and it begged to be touched and caressed. I watched as he stood just within arm’s reach and teased every set of eyes on him as he moved his hands slowly down his chest and stomach until he got to his thighs. I knew what was coming next and watched as he ripped the pants from his legs. I had to cover my ears this time or risk going deaf because of the uproar. Blaine’s fingers moved over the bulge under the silver G-string he wore, as he moved his hips to the music. I felt the flush in my neck and cheeks, and my own liquid lust for Blaine warmed my belly and spilled between my thighs. Everyone else fell away and it was only me and Blaine in the room as he danced just for me.

Even though I’d seen Blaine perform at the club a few times now, I still had a hard time accepting this part of him. I found what he did unbelievably sexy, but I was selfish and wanted him to myself. I hadn’t seen Blaine in a week as I tried to sort through everything that was said and revealed between us. I was still having a hard time getting over what Blaine thought and the way he’d left me because of it. His jump to conclusions had caused a domino effect that sent me into a darkness I was still trying to escape. I believed he’d been angry over what he saw, and I believed he’d been hurt and devastated, but I was having a hard time believing his leaving without confronting me was the complete truth. It didn’t seem justified, and I knew in my gut there was something he wasn’t telling me. The music ended again, and again the club went dark before the house lights came on and Eric, the MC, was on the stage to announce the next performer. I knew the routine and waited nervously for Blaine to come from the back dressed in his jeans. I knew he’d be bombarded with women wanting him to sign their bras or panties, or in some extreme cases, their boobs. I planned to stay where I was until he either saw me or I knew it was safe enough to brave pulling him to the side. A group of younger woman, probably in their twenties, moved toward the bar next to me and gushed over Blaine’s performance. I listened in shock, disgust, and jealousy as they talked about his body and what they wanted him to do to them. They sounded like a group of horny men rather than women. When I couldn’t stand listening to them anymore, I went to stand somewhere to wait for Blaine. I stopped when I heard one of the girls say something that made my stomach burn. “Ladies, I’m going to fuck the Jack Hammer tonight.” My stomach rolled at her words and I couldn’t help but openly stare in their direction. “Yeah, right. You’re too chicken shit, Kerry.” She snatched one of the twenty shots the bartender put down in front of them and lifted it toward her lips. “They call it liquid courage for a reason, bitch.” She smirked at her friend and then threw her head back as she downed the shot. She shivered and her face twisted sourly as she swallowed the bitter liquor. She sucked the lemon thoroughly before tossing it into the empty shot glass. “One for courage, two for luck, three for a buzz, and four to get fucked,” she said with a salute before she downed her second shot. Her idiotic friends cheered her on as she downed another and then another, and I

couldn’t look away as a random stranger drank in preparation to have sex with my Blaine. Even if he wasn’t officially mine, he’d always be mine to me. Her friends whistled and catcalled after her as she made her way through the sea of women and toward the back rooms. I watched her until a sparkle out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I’d been so caught up in the girls and their offensive talk that I hadn’t realized Blaine was already out. He was signing a woman’s bra as she drunkenly moved her palm up his bicep. She turned him toward her before she reached up and wrapped her other hand around his neck and pulled on his head until her lips reached his ear. Rage boiled my blood and I couldn’t function past my own anger and jealousy as I watched her hand move down his arm and yank on his wrist. He didn’t struggle as she pulled him across the club. I swallowed hard when they disappeared down the hallway to the back rooms. I knew Blaine gave private dances to the women who paid good money for them. I also knew he did more than that. I’d seen it with my own two eyes, but I thought he was done with that. The night at my apartment, he’d promised he was done with having sex with the women. My whole body went numb thinking about what he could be doing in those back rooms. After all, the girl had said what she wanted to do with Blaine. A server I didn’t recognize passed in front of me holding a tray of full shot glasses. He turned to move toward the bar and I plucked one of the shots from his tray before he was out of reach. I threw back the harsh shot. I set the empty glass down on the bar and decided tonight was not the night to confront Blaine. I made my way toward the exit telling myself I had no right being angry with Blaine for whatever he was about to do. I’d made the point of letting him know I wasn’t sure I was ready to jump into anything with him after everything that happened between us. What did I expect him to do? I asked myself as I pushed through the club doors and into the dark, chilly night. Wait for me? Suddenly become a monogamist? Yes! That’s exactly what I expected him to do after everything he’d put me through over something he never bothered to ask me about. I deserved that much from him. In fact, I deserved more. I deserved the benefit of the doubt, his loyalty, and more importantly, his trust. He’d given me none of that then, but now, I sure as hell had the right to expect him to keep his penis in his bedazzled, stripper undies until he knew where I stood. Turning away from the parking lot, I pushed through the doors and made my way

inside. The floor was starting to clear as groups of women made their way back to their tables for the next stripper. I saw Marshall coming toward me out of the corner of my eye and I knew unless I ran toward the back, there was no way I was going to avoid him. “Hey, Chelsey,” he called out to me, attempting to stop me altogether. Oh, no, it wasn’t happening. “Hey.” I smiled at him, but didn’t stop. “Blaine didn’t mention you were coming tonight.” He was walking next to me trying to keep up. Sorry I didn’t give you or Blaine the heads up you needed to cover up the over-time he puts in, I thought. “That’s because I didn’t tell Blaine.” “You looking for him? I can go get him for you?” He knew where I was going, and he definitely knew why. I could tell by the nervous look on his face and the way his eyes kept moving between me and the back rooms where Blaine was. “No, but thank you,” I said. I came to a stop when he stepped in front of me. “Please, Chelsey,” he begged. “Let me go get him for you.” “The damage is already done, Marshall. I know what I’m about to walk into. Besides, if you warn Blaine that I’m here, which is what you plan to do, I lose the element of surprise and I’d hate to lose that because I like having it on my side.” I could see the battle he was waging in his eyes as he debated whether or not he should let me pass. But what he didn’t understand was I was going back there regardless. “It’s a part of the job, Chelsey. We’ve all done it while working here. It means nothing.” Hearing his words brought up another thought. “Does Lynn know? Does she know all the perks of the job?” “Yes, of course she knows.” And she’s okay with it? That didn’t sound very much like the Lynn I knew, but then again, love made you do stupid things. I threw away the thought. It didn’t matter either way. Lynn was my friend and I wouldn’t judge her because she’s never judged me. If she wasn’t okay with it, she’d set Marshall straight. “Good.” I sighed. “I can’t outrun you, so if you plan on telling Blaine I’m here then let’s get this over with. If not, please let me by.”

We had a stare-off as I waited for him to choose. Finally, with a big sigh, he stepped out of my way. My heart kicked hard when I took the first step past him, but I ignored it and pushed on. The hallway where the back rooms were was painted all black with only a row of soft spotlights above. The hall wasn’t long and it closed off at the end. There were three doors on one side of the hall and three doors on the other side. As I walked past the first door, I saw a name plaque on it with Bobby’s name on it. He was another stripper in the club. I’d met him a handful of times and really enjoyed being around him. Seeing that the club decided to start using name plaques instead of occupied signs was a relief. It meant I wasn’t going to have to open each door to find the room Blaine was in. I moved down the hall and past doors with different men’s names on them. Finally, I found Blaine’s name. I faced the door, and stood there for a minute to get myself together. My nerves were a wreck, and sweat started to pour down my spine. I was afraid of what I’d find behind the door, but I couldn’t stop myself. I brought my hand up to the doorknob and waited. Taking a deep breath, I closed my fingers around the knob and pushed the door open. I didn’t know what I expected to find when I opened the door. I knew women didn’t come to have sex with a stripper to get something basic. I half expected an orgy or a woman hanging from the ceiling while Blaine spun her around on his cock. There was a woman standing in the center of the room. When the door opened, her eyes turned my way. “Excuse me, who are you?” The lone brunette snapped, putting her hands on her hips. She wasn’t wearing a shirt, and her hot-pink bra briefly caught my attention. I didn’t answer her as I looked around the room. The leather couch where Blaine and I had sex was there, a single spotlight shining down on it. The room was far from a stripper’s sex cave. There was no orgy or hanging contraptions. Blaine wasn’t even in the room. My eyes landed on the brunette again and she gave me an aggravated look. “Well? Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?” she demanded, tapping her foot. I rolled my eyes as I felt my nerves fading away. I was about to answer her, when a door to my right opened inside the room. I hadn’t even noticed the door earlier. “Did you say something, baby?” Blaine asked, holding onto the frame of the door and leaning into the room. He stopped when he saw me, and his arms fell away as he took a step into the room. The look on his face was priceless, and I enjoyed the deer-caught-in-the-headlights look on his face. “Chelsey?” He looked to the brunette and back at me. “What are you doing here?”

I had no plans on discussing my business with Blaine in front some drunk girl waiting to ride his cock, so I moved toward the side and looked at her. “Please leave,” I said politely. “Um, excuse me,” she scoffed. “Who the hell are you?” “I’m the girl who only asks politely once.” We had a silent standoff before she turned to Blaine with a pout. “Are you going to let her kick me out?” She crossed her arms over her ample chest. “Look to him all you want, sweetheart. He honestly doesn’t really have a choice.” I hadn’t looked Blaine in the eyes yet and I wasn’t planning to until the chick left. “You should probably go,” Blaine told her, amusement laced his voice. “Ugh.” She stomped her foot and grabbed her shirt off the couch, pulling it over her head roughly. “This is bullshit!” She stumbled, nearly tripping on her ridiculous heels as she passed me. Once she was clear from the door, I turned to slam it. I didn’t turn around right away because I was so angry I was afraid of what I’d say. I heard Blaine move toward the couch, and knew I couldn’t stand against the wall forever. Turning around, I expected to unleash my rage on Blaine, but he looked so damn good in his jeans. They hung from his narrow hips, revealing the muscles in his lower abdomen. My eyes moved from the button of his jeans and up over his bare chest. He was delicious. “Why?” I asked. “You promised you wouldn’t’ sleep with the women anymore.” I sounded whiny and I hated that. “Why did you sleep with them anyway? Was the money that good?” “Honestly?” “Yes! I want your honesty.” He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Because when I started this I didn’t care about anything but the money. I couldn’t sleep with anyone for the pleasure of it after you, Chelsey. I figured I might as well do it for the money. It’s what I do. It’s how I paid the bills.” “It’s what you do or what you did?” I asked, desperate for him to relieve the jealousy simmering in my stomach. “It’s what I did,” he corrected. “Are you sure?” I felt embarrassed for being so jealous, but I couldn’t help it. “I haven’t slept with any of the women since the night you walked in.” “You really expect me to believe that?”

He took a step closer to me. “It’s the damn truth. So yes, I expect you to believe it.” “Well I don’t, Blaine. Who knows what would’ve happened if I hadn’t come in.” He took another step toward me. “I would’ve danced for her and she would’ve left. Nothing more.” The side of his mouth tilted in a sexy grin. “I will say, though. You’re sexy as fuck when you’re jealous.” I pushed against his bare chest, the warmth from his skin making my fingers tingle. “I’m not jealous,” I lied. He tsked. “Bad, Chelsey. Do you know what happens to little girls who lie?” I pinched my lips together to keep from smiling. “They get spanked.” He grinned. He pulled me to him and kissed me hard. Moving me toward the wall, he pressed me against it before he lifted me, making me wrap my legs around him. “I fucking hate pants,” he growled. “Never wear pants around me again,” he muttered against my neck as he went to work unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans. I dropped my legs to the floor so he could pull one leg loose. Then he pulled his jeans down his hips, rolled a condom over his length, and he lifted me again. I wrapped my legs around him, and he pressed his hardness against me, making me hiss. Reaching between us, he pushed my panties to the side and entered me swiftly, filling me completely and making me cry out in pleasure. He took me hard and fast, nibbling and biting the side of my neck as his fingers dug into my hips and pulled me onto him. My shoulders pressed into the wall, and my head rolled from side to side as the pleasure bloomed in my lower stomach. He pushed me harder and harder, and I went higher and higher, until I was digging my nails into his back and breathlessly begging him for more. And then I came hard and long, screaming out Blaine’s name and pressing my hips into his like a wild woman. Not long after, Blaine came, too. He was loud as he bit into my shoulder and growled my name. Pulling away from me, he let my weak legs drop to the floor. Thankfully, the wall kept me from falling. He pressed his forehead to mine with closed eyes and kissed the tip of my nose. “You’re mine, Chelsey. It doesn’t matter what your answer is. You’re mine and I’m yours.” He opened his eyes and looked into mine, taking my breath away. Four tiny words danced on my lips, but I couldn’t let them free. Not now. Not when I wasn’t sure where things were going. The one thing I was sure of, was I was done fighting this thing with Blaine. It was pointless anyway. I’d always been Blaine’s and I’d hoped he’d always been mine. Sure, I still had terrible memories, but I was getting better. At least I felt like I was. I could give this thing with him a try. It’s what I wanted. I wanted Blaine and he wanted me.

Cupping his cheeks, I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Okay,” I said, earning myself a gorgeous smile from Blaine and another mind blowing kiss.



39 BLAINE LIFE WAS GOOD for the first time in a long time. I could breathe easier knowing I was slowly beginning to pick up the pieces of my life. Even Grandma noticed the difference in me. I came home from working with Chris on lawns, and began dancing around the living room with Maddie to some cheesy kid’s song. Maddie loved it, and I loved making Maddie happy, so it all worked out. I was busy as hell over the next week. Between working my day job, spending time with Chelsey, and working at the club, I barely had time to think, but sometimes not thinking was a good thing. I smiled again, and I laughed again, and it was all because of Chelsey. I’d talked to Tommy about only dancing on stage and doing an occasional private dance. I made sure he understood everything else would stop. I couldn’t do it anymore. I was a taken man, and the only woman who was getting any of my cock was Chelsey. Which she did often. Every chance she got she was climbing on it. She was insatiable and I was loving every second of it. We couldn’t get enough of each other. We did it in my car. In her bathroom. In her bedroom. Any place we could and it was amazing every time. She was amazing. I smiled just thinking about her as I trimmed the bushes outside one of the buildings at Columbia. Just knowing she was on campus made working easier. The sun was on my shoulders and my heart was light with love. The day couldn’t have gotten much better. Then suddenly my day went to shit. I looked up and my eyes locked on Rosie, one of my regular fucks at the club. She smiled at me as she came my way, her heels clicking on the sidewalk. She looked completely different. Her hair was tamed, and her professional pantsuit seemed out of place on her. She was a hardcore shit-talker who liked getting fucked and called dirty names, yet there she was, holding a briefcase and wearing a fucking pantsuit. “Jack,” she said, a grin creeping across her face. “Long time no see.” “Yeah, I’ve been a little busy,” I said as I nervously rubbed the back of my neck. “I bet you have.” Her eyes moved over my body, taking in my sweat-soaked shirt and dirty pants. “You look fucking sexy right now,” she said bluntly.

I didn’t know how to respond. She obviously worked at the school. Why was she openly flirting with me in front of the students? Why couldn’t she have just walked by me and smiled like a normal person would’ve. “Thanks,” I said. Her smile dropped and confusion moved across her face. “I missed you at the club. Have you missed me?” Again, I rubbed at the back of my neck. The sun suddenly felt too hot and the cool breeze was gone. “Rosie, I—” I lost my words. “I won’t be seeing you at the club anymore.” She pouted. “Did you quit?” “No. I still dance there. I just… I don’t use the back rooms anymore.” She stood there, staring back at me. And then realization set in. “You’ve met someone?” Just thinking of Chelsey made me smile. “You have.” She smiled. “Well, whoever she is, she’s one lucky girl.” She moved closer to me. Leaning up on her toes, she pressed a kiss on my cheek and whispered in my ear, “If you keep her as happy as you kept me, you’ll have no problems.” And then she walked away, leaving me standing there with a fucked up smile on my face and a naked Chelsey in my brain. I turned to get back to work, but then my eyes moved across the lawn, and I saw Chelsey standing there staring back at me. Her eyes were wounded and her lips were pinched. She turned to walk away from me, but I dropped my pruning shears and went after her. “Chelsey,” I said, reaching out to stop her. She shook her arm from mine, and kept walking. “Chelsey, just listen to me,” I pleaded. She stopped and spun around on me, her nostrils flared in anger and her eyes watered with angry tears. “Did you fuck her, too?” she asked loudly. “Chelsey, just listen.” “No,” she cut me off. “Did you? She’s a professor here, you know? She’s one of my professors to be exact.” She blew out a hard breath and closed her eyes. “Yes or no, Blaine. Did you fuck her?” I couldn’t lie. I’d been fucking Rosie when Chelsey walked in that time. I was surprised she didn’t recognize Rosie then. But then again, Rosie had been face down in the couch at the time. “Yes,” I blurted. “She was one of my regulars.” I decided honesty was the best way to go. Chelsey’s face paled, and her eyes went from angry to hurt.

“But I’m not doing that anymore, baby. I promised you I wouldn’t, and I mean to keep that promise.” She ran her hands roughly down her face. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know if I can do this, Blaine.” My heart dropped and my ability to breathe became harder. “What do you mean?” “I mean, I don’t know if I can be with you knowing you go to that place. Knowing there are women there who you’ve fucked. I trust you, I think. I just don’t know if I can stand it. I can’t be with a man who does what you do. I’m sorry.” She turned to walk away from me and I panicked. Reaching out, I grabbed her arm and pulled her to me. “I’ll quit,” I said without thinking it over. “I quit right now. I won’t ever go back to the club.” I had no idea how I was going to survive without the club. I had bills to pay and mouths to feed, but I knew if Chelsey left me again I’d shut down. I couldn’t let that happen because if I shut down I’d really be useless to Grandma and Maddie. “What?” she said, confusion thick in her voice. “I said, I quit. Right now. No more stripping. No more Golden Banana. Nothing,” I said adamantly. “I want you more than I want that job.” “Are you sure about this?” Her eyes searched mine for the answer. “I’m positive. I want to make this work this time. I love you, Chelsey. I can’t handle losing you again.” Tears sprang to her eyes and her bottom lip trembled. “I love you, too, Blaine.” And that’s all that mattered to me. I leaned over her and pressed a kiss to her soft lips. Happiness and nervousness moved through me. Life was about to get a lot harder for me, but at least I had Chelsey to help me through. As long as I had her, I could make it through anything.

**********

I MADE A PROMISE, and I meant I was going to stick by it, but finding a well-paying job with nothing but a high school diploma was a lot harder than it sounded. I applied everywhere when I wasn’t working. And when I wasn’t applying for jobs or working, I was spending time with Chelsey or my family. Grandma kept asking me to bring her over for dinner, but I was afraid someone would spill the beans and tell Chelsey about my parents. I wasn’t ready for that yet. The job with Chris was barely covering Grandma’s prescriptions and food, much less

paying the bills and things were getting tighter and tighter as the month went on. The guys at the club kept asking me to come back, and it was tempting, but I couldn’t do it. No matter how easy it would make life for me, I couldn’t give up. “What about school?” Marshall asked. We’d started hanging out outside of the club now that he and Lynn were dating. I was shocked to find out he was a college boy himself. I had no idea he was going to Julliard until Chelsey told me. “What about it?” I asked. “Well, maybe you could go and get a degree or something.” “Yeah, but that doesn’t help me now.” “It would if you get some student loans,” he countered. “Yeah. Maybe.” I hadn’t thought about school since before I left Georgia. It wasn’t a possibility for me anymore, but maybe Marshall was right, maybe I could look into getting student loans to get me through. That’s if I still qualified for grants from the state. “So, you coming to the going away party?” I’d been informed that Tommy and the guys were throwing me a going away party. It was nice. I had to admit, I missed the boys and their crazy ways sometimes. “Yeah, man. I’ll be there.” “Bring, Chelsey.” He nudged me with his shoulder. “Lynn’s going to be there, too.” “I will.” I spent the next few days applying to school and for grants and loans. Thankfully, the process was a fast one since it was mid-semester. It didn’t take long to get with an advisor and find out everything was possible. I qualified for grants and loans, and I’d be starting at the technical college when the next semester started. I couldn’t wait to tell Chelsey. I could already imagine the happy smile she’d have for me when I told her.



40 CHELSEY HE LOVED ME. He’d said it before and I believed him, but I couldn’t let that stop me. I loved Blaine. I always had, and I wanted to make it work with him. Evidently, he did, too, since he was quitting the club for me. I hated to be that girl, but I couldn’t stand it anymore. Going to school and focusing on my assignments became hard because all I could do was think about what Blaine was doing at the club. Was he taking women in the back? Was he fucking them or just dancing for them? It became too much. I couldn’t be with him while he was working there. I had to be able to focus. I couldn’t believe he’d given up the club for me. It showed how serious he was about making things work with us, and if he was serious, then I would be, too. Things were moving along nicely with us, but I could tell there was something still bothering Blaine. He didn’t mention anything, but whatever it was it was simmering just beneath his surface. He seemed stiff and worried at times, but every time I’d ask him if he was okay, he’d blow it off. “Are you sure you’re okay? You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you, right?” I asked. We were lying in bed watching a movie and wrapped around each other. I loved how comfortable we were with each other. “Babe, I’m fine. Just relax and watch the movie. Don’t worry about me. I’m good to go.” I laid my head against him and listened to his beating heart. I didn’t want to push him, but I was also super curious about what was going on in his head. The next day, after classes, I went home, got a shower, and slipped into my pajamas to do some studying. Blaine was going to come by later, and I wanted to at least get a few chapters in before he got there. I was surprised when he showed up at my door two hours early, wearing a huge grin. “Get dressed,” he said, patting me on the ass as I shut the door behind me.

“Why? Where are we going?” I asked. I’d told Lynn, who basically moved in with me, I’d be home all night. She didn’t have a key yet, and I hated leaving one under the mat for her. “We’re going to dinner. I have news and I want to celebrate with you.” I smiled. “Okay. How am I dressing? Jeans and a T-shirt or a dress?” “Baby, you look great in everything. Wear whatever you want. I’ll adjust the plans to you.” I kissed him before I left to go get dressed. I wondered to myself what we had to celebrate. Whatever it was, I didn’t care. I just loved seeing Blaine happy and smiling. I hated to think that something was stressing him out or bothering him. An hour later, we pulled up at a local bar and grill. Blaine made me wait in the car so he could open the door for me, and when I got out, I kissed him for being so freaking cute. We held hands as we entered the place and the hostess sat us at a quiet booth in the corner. We ordered drinks and an appetizer, and once the waitress was gone, I went in for the kill. “So, what are we celebrating?” I asked. His smile lit up his face, and he reached across the table to take my hand. “I’m going back to school,” he said. “I start the technical college next semester.” Excitement filled me and I squeezed his hand in mine. “That’s fantastic. I’m so freaking proud of you, Blaine.” He smiled sheepishly and my heart melted for him all over again. “I mean, I know it’s no Columbia, but it’s a step in the right direction.” He chuckled to himself. “I mean, I was really starting to freak out about the bills and stuff, but now I feel hopeful that things will work out. Grandma can get her medicine and everything once the grants clear and my student loans come in.” My smile disappeared from my face, and guilt sank in. “What are you talking about? I didn’t know you were having money problems.” His face cleared as if he’d just realized how much he’d said. “It’s cool. I have it all under control.” “But, Blaine, I didn’t know. I feel so selfish. Your grandma, you said she needed medicines? I didn’t even know you lived with your grandmother.” It was slowly sinking in that I didn’t know much about Blaine’s life now. I had so many questions, but every time I asked, he’d shut me out. It got to the point where I quit asking because I hated it when he shut me out. “Like I said, it’s fine, babe. I have it under control. Anyway, let’s celebrate. No more frowns, okay? You’re entirely too beautiful when you smile.”

I tried to smile, but it was forced. Obviously, I didn’t know the half of it, and there I’d been making him quit his job without regard to who he might be taking care of. “Blaine, where are your parents?” I asked. I remembered him telling me before how close he was with his mom and dad, but since we’d started talking again he hadn’t mentioned them once. Was there a falling out? And if so, why was Maddie staying with him and his grandma instead of his parents? Things were slowly coming together. Things I hadn’t thought about before. Blaine’s smile dropped, his skin turning pale and his eyes dropping to the table in front of him. “Not tonight, Chelsey. Let’s just enjoy this night, okay?” I reached out and took his hand in mine, prompting him to look up at me with sad tearfilled eyes. “Blaine, please tell me.” He reached for his drink and took a big gulp before clearing his throat and tugging at the collar of his shirt like it was too tight. “They died in a car accident,” he said. His voice broke like it caused him physical pain to push the words out, and pain ripped through my heart, making me gasp loudly. “Oh my God, Blaine. I’m so sorry.” I stood from my side of the booth and slipped in next to him. I snuggled into his side and held him. “When?” “It happened the night I saw you with Josh. I’d found out I was accepted into college. I couldn’t wait to tell you, and I almost called, but I wanted to wait until we were together in your room. My parents were so happy and proud, and we went to dinner as a family and had an amazing night.” I rubbed his arm and prompted him to continue. He relaxed into my arms, but I could feel his heart beating really hard and fast. “It was a drunk driver.” He continued his story. He squeezed my hand when he told me about his father’s dead eyes and his mother’s last breaths, and I held him close as he told me about waking up in the hospital and being with Maddie. His eyes were watered with emotion the entire time, and I knew it was taking everything he had not to cry in public. I was having a hard time keeping it together myself, but when he told me about how badly he needed me, I broke. I cried when he told me about coming to my house and seeing me with Josh. Everything was coming together. Everything made sense. He was hurt. He was scared, and he’d just lost his family. His reaction to seeing me with Josh made more sense now that I understood what he’d gone through. Guilt slammed deep into my chest and hatred for Josh that I hadn’t felt since that night

bloomed deep in my stomach. “I’m so sorry, Blaine. I had no idea.” And I didn’t. We ended up getting our food to go, and going back to my apartment. We ate at my kitchen table, and afterward I held Blaine in bed while he clutched on to me like his life depended on it. I couldn’t believe the truths that were revealed or how much time we’d lost out on because of simple misunderstandings. I was still angry with him for leaving me when I needed the most, but hearing his story lessened the blow a bit. Knowing he’d lost his parents, I was glad he didn’t know about the loss of our baby. Maybe everything happened for a reason. Maybe Blaine couldn’t have handled it. While it was the hardest thing I’d ever gone through in my life, knowing what I knew now, I could say I was kind of glad he wasn’t there to go through it, too. “So, the guys at the club are throwing me a going away party. Think you might want to be my date?” he asked. He looked up at me with swollen, red eyes, and his voice was raspy and full of sleep as I played with his hair. His head was lying in my lap and I could feel his warm breath on my thigh. “I think I’d like that a lot.” I held him until he fell asleep in my arms, and with guilt heavy on my heart, I finally went to sleep, too.





41 CHELSEY I COULDN’T SAY ALL THE MEMORIES in The Golden Banana were bad. Just thinking of the ways we’d had sex in the back room warmed me. And while I was happy he wasn’t working there anymore, the guilt of being the reason for his decision was strong. Things were going great between us, and I was happy. Actually, I was happier than I’d been since before Blaine left. There was only one problem. Being back with Blaine was bringing up old wounds, and I was having a hard time dealing with them. It hurt to look into his eyes and wonder if our baby would’ve had his same icy blues, or his smile, or his olive skin. Then the pain that followed those questions was soul crushing. It was an ache I thought I’d gotten over a long time ago, but I wasn’t so sure anymore. The one year anniversary of the night I lost the baby was rapidly approaching. Lost. Like the baby was a set a keys or my favorite lip-gloss. Like I’d set the baby down somewhere and forgotten where I’d put it. Just thinking of how the doctor said those words made me want to kick something. I felt myself pulling away and withdrawing from Blaine, but I didn’t know how to stop it from happening. I wanted to be with Blaine more than anything, but I wasn’t sure how to heal the piece of my heart he’d destroyed when he left. I stared up at the sign for The Golden Banana and took a deep breath. The rocks popped beneath my shoes as I dragged myself toward the entrance. I just needed to put on a happy face for Blaine’s party and everything would work itself out. It had to. Pulling open the door, light filled the usually dim club. The house lights were on and the music wasn’t as loud. The roar of laughter and talking filled my ears, before everyone turned toward me. I smiled, letting the door shut behind me. I looked over the familiar faces, but I didn’t see Blaine. The group greeted me as I worked myself across the room. Then Lynn was there, smiling and hugging me. “You’re here! What took you so long?” she asked. She swung her arm over my shoulders and pulled me to her while she tugged me along.

I laughed. “I’m only five minutes late. Where’s Blaine?” “Everyone’s over here admiring the beautiful Layla.” “Who’s Layla?” “She’s Bobby and Melinda’s new bundle of joy.” I’d barely heard her words over the ringing in my ears. I was sure my ear drums were going to explode. Marshall moved over to make room for me and Lynn, and that’s when I saw Blaine. I felt paralyzed but the sight. My mind told me to run, but I unable to turn away. My knees locked into place, and a wave of dizziness rolled across me. I couldn’t do anything but stare at Blaine. He was holding the tiny, baby girl in his arms, making her look even smaller than she actually was. He smiled down into her little face and laughed when she cooed up at him. There was some tension in his arms, but he held the baby protectively to his chest. I heard everyone’s voices, but everything became muffled. Questions were being asked, and everyone laughed at something Blaine was saying. My eyes moved over his smiling face, and when he looked up at me, he winked. I blinked, releasing myself from the daze I’d entered. “Come on, Blaine. You’re a natural,” Marshall teased. “Can’t you see yourself with a mini Jack Hammer?” Everyone laughed, and once again Blaine found my gaze. I didn’t know what I looked like, but his expression shifted and worry moved across his brows. “Cut it out, guys. You’re going to freak out, Chelsey.” Blaine stood and leaned over to kiss the baby’s forehead, before handing her back to Melinda. He took a step toward me, but I moved away from him, afraid if he touched me I’d crumble. “Chelsey? Are you okay?” Lynn asked, touching my arm. “Don’t,” I snapped, pulling my arm back. “Chelsey,” Blaine called my name slowly. Everyone was staring at me and the way I was reacting. Why wouldn’t they be? I was obviously freaking out. Still, their eyes on me made me sweat. I could almost hear their accusations. Everyone knew. They all knew I’d lost our baby, and they were blaming me with their accusing eyes. I knew I was being irrational. Only two people in the room knew about my loss, and I was one of them, but still, my panicked brain was feeding me lies. Turning around, I fled to the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

Lynn and Blaine begged me to open the door from the other side, but I covered my ears to block out their voices. Squeezing my eyes shut, I only made it worse. All I could see was Blaine holding the baby. The memories of the pungent smell of my own blood and the pain I felt pushed against my brain, tearing me apart and crushing my heart. Falling into the nearest stall, I lost everything I had in my stomach until I was dry heaving. I collapsed to the floor, unable to control the tears as they rushed down my cheeks. Mascara smeared into my eyes, burning them like fire. The pounding on the door matched my erratic heartbeat. Again, I covered my ears and dug my forehead into my lap. I was drowning so deep in my own suffering that I hadn’t even realized Blaine had broken in the bathroom door until I felt his hands on my face. He was calling my name over and over again, but I couldn’t respond. Suddenly, there was nothing underneath me anymore, and Blaine held me protectively as he cradled me against his chest like he had the tiny, baby girl. I was lost in another bout of tears, the room around me blurring away as Blaine held me close. He carried me from the bathroom and toward the exit of the club. I heard Lynn next to us as she followed us toward the doors. “I’m sorry, Chelsey. I wasn’t thinking. I’m so sorry,” she cried. “What are you talking about, Lynn? What the fuck is going on?” Blaine demanded, opening his car door and setting me inside. I didn’t hear her response, but I prayed she kept my secret. When he got in the car he turned toward me, his worried eyes moved over my face. “Look at me, Chelsey,” he demanded. I shook my head. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t think about everything he represented. It hurt too much. “Chelsey,” he said in warning. “I’m not fucking around. Look at me!” “Take me home, Blaine,” I demanded My voice was broken and rough. I didn’t even sound like myself. “Why can’t you look at me?” “Please just take me home. I want to go home.” He didn’t say anything for a long minute, and then he turned and his car roared to life. The sound was familiar, and it put me at ease as he pulled out of the parking lot and drove us toward home.

**********

I DIDN’T KNOW WHY I WAS THERE, but it didn’t seem to matter as I drowned another shot. I’d lost count of how many I’d had. It’s not like it mattered, numbers seemed obsolete at that point. All I knew was my face was numb and the room around me felt tilted. I’d let Charles and a few of his friends drag me to one of the frat houses for a big end of the semester party. In truth, I hadn’t seen Charles since we got there. I’d taken up post by their makeshift bar while one of the frat boys fed me Jello shots. My phone vibrated in my back pocket for the hundredth time, but I already knew who it was without even looking. Blaine. I hadn’t spoken to him since he’d brought me home from his going away party and tucked me into bed. I refused to talk to him. He had too many questions I didn’t want to answer. He wanted to be a good boyfriend and talk about the things that were bothering me, but I was so far beyond talking. I couldn’t even look at him. I just wanted him to go away until my head was right again, which I was beginning to think might never happen. I was beginning to think I’d never be able to move past my past. He was reluctant to leave me, but when he realized I wasn’t going to talk to him, he kissed my forehead and left my side. When he left, I crawled from my bed and went to my dresser. Pulling open the top drawer, my fingers moved across the folded piece of paper I kept tucked away. The paper was creased down the middle from the many times it had been folded and unfolded, but still, the image of the tiny, blurred figure could still be seen. I ran my finger over the little heart and sucked in a deep gulp of air. The heartache left me weak. Crawling back in my bed, I pulled the blanket over my head, locking the away the world and holding the only evidence of what Blaine and I created close to my heart. I hadn’t talked to him since and as his name lit my cell screen, I ignored the call. I held the side button down until my phone went black. Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I tried to put Blaine out of my mind with another Jello shot. “Don’t you think you should take it easy?” the frat boy asked as he handed me another one. “Nope,” I said, squeezing the cool goo into my mouth. My mouth was numb, and I could no longer taste the bitter bite of liquor that laced the Jello. “Alright,” he said. The way he said it made me want to target him when I felt the need to throw up. “Why are you ignoring my phones calls?” Blaine said behind me.

His voice was deadly, and it sent chills up my spine. I wasn’t surprised he’d found me. I’d expected him to show up sooner or later, but I preferred later. “What are you doing here, Blaine?” “You know what I’m doing here. If you had answered my calls you could’ve avoided what’s about to go down.” “I have nothing to talk to you about,” I slurred. “The hell you don’t,” he roared. “Hey, buddy—” Frat boy bartender interrupted. “I’m not your fucking buddy,” Blaine snapped. “Stay out of this, kid. I’m not in the fucking mood.” The guy glared at Blaine, wanting to say something more, but luckily he backed away, leaving me and Blaine there alone. “We’re leaving right now, Chelsey. I’m taking you home.” “I’m sorry you came all the way over here, Blaine, but I’m not going home. It’s a party. Have some fun. Better yet,” I raised my voice, spinning in my chair to face him. “Why don’t you find the nearest table and start stripping. I’m sure everyone will love that!” “You’re being a real pain in my ass right now, Chelsey.” I laughed. “No, I’m being a bitch.” “Your words, sweetheart.” I glared at him. “Just go away, Blaine. You’re killing my buzz.” I went to turn around, but his hand caught mine firmly, keeping me from spinning my chair around and away from him. “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m going anywhere without your drunk ass.” His words were lethal. We glared at each other, the room around us disappearing, and then his expression shifted. Sadness filled his eyes as they moved over his face and my rage subsided a bit. “Chelsey,” he whispered. “What’s wrong, baby? Why won’t you talk to me? Tell me what I did so I can try to fix it.” Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to talk about it. Especially considering what day it was. One year ago to the day I’d lost our baby. I just wanted to drown it all away with alcohol until I passed out. I didn’t want to be conscious again until the day was over, and the sun of a new day was blazing. “I’m not doing this, Blaine. I can’t.”

I slid off my chair and stumbled a little before catching my balance on the edge of the bar. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been drinking, but I was definitely aware of it now. The world spun and Blaine split into two. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and then tried to walk past him, but I nearly fell into him in my attempt. “Jesus,” he cursed, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the door. “Let go of me, Blaine,” I growled, yanking my arm from him. I stumbled back and into something firm. Two large hands came up and held onto my biceps, keeping me upright and against the wall of heat at my back. When I looked up, I recognized the guy holding me as one of the frat guys. “Sounds to me like the lady doesn’t want you bothering her anymore.” His deep voice rumbled against my back and I squirmed to move away from the feeling. Blaine’s jaw tightened, the pulse in the side of his neck pounding hard and fast against his skin. Fury filled his eyes as he stared at the hands holding my arms, and then his eyes found mine. Again, a chill tingled down my spine. Things weren’t going to end well, and the last thing I wanted was anyone getting hurt. “Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Her,” Blaine threatened. The guy behind me stiffened, his hard chest pressing into my back. “Or else what?” “You really want to do this here, frat boy? I’m feeling pretty murderous right now, and I’d be more than happy to take my anger out on you.” “Blaine, stop it. Let’s just go.” I tried to move toward Blaine, but the hands holding me tightened, keeping me in place. “Forget it, baby. You don’t have to go anywhere with this guy. He’ll be leaving now anyway.” “I told you to get your fucking hands off her,” Blaine growled between his teeth. “So help me, I’ll break your fucking face.” “These hands?” the guy holding me asked. He moved his fingers, brushing the sides of my breasts, and I stiffened. Pulling against his hands, I grunted in frustration. And then everything moved quickly. Even if I hadn’t been drunk, I still don’t think I could’ve focused on the movement around me. Blaine roared, coming toward the frat guy behind me, and I was tossed to the side. I landed against the bar, the edge cutting into my stomach. The sounds of bone against bone moved through the room, making my stomach turn. When I turned around, Blaine was on top of the guy, his fist connecting with his face over and over again.

“Blaine!” I screamed, lunging for his arm and stopping him from hitting the guy again. “Stop!” Blaine was breathing hard, his nostrils flared with his breath. There was blood everywhere. It covered Blaine’s fist and was dripping from the guy’s face and down his clothes. The smell was too familiar and the brassy scent made the alcohol in my stomach lunge for an escape. “You should’ve fucking listened,” Blaine snarled and spit. It landed on the guy’s jacket and it was tinted with blood. Blaine wiped his mouth, and it was the first time I realized he’d been hit at least once. His lip was split, and blood was filling the corner of his mouth. “I’m going to be sick,” I groaned, stumbling forward. Blaine’s arms went around me as he steered me toward the exit and out the door. Throwing his arms off, I ran to the side of the yard just in time to lose everything in the bushes. As I threw up, I heard the music from the party continue in a drowned out buzz. It didn’t surprise me in the least that the party was going to continue. “Are you okay?” Blaine asked from behind me. I didn’t answer him right away. Wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my jacket, I pulled it off and rolled it up, holding it close to my stomach. I felt more empty there than ever before. “Chelsey.” Blaine touched my arm and I flinched away. “Damn it, Chelsey. What the fuck is going on?” “I need to go home,” I said, walking away from him. “You’re not driving in your condition,” he snapped, following behind me. “I know that!” I yelled. “I wasn’t saying I was going to drive myself. They have safe drivers that’ll take me.” “Fuck that, I’m taking you,” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward his car. I yanked as hard as I could, and he had no choice but to let go. “Don’t touch me!” He turned on me, his face tight with anger and frustration. “Why?” he yelled, throwing his arms up in the air. “What the hell is going on, Chelsey? What happened? What did I fucking miss? Why are you shutting me out? Why won’t you tell me why you’re so angry at me? I need to fix this, Chelsey. I need you!” I was shaking my head, my arms still wrapped around my middle. He reached out to touch my arm, but I pulled away. “I can’t. I just can’t,” I repeated. “You can,” he insisted. He moved closer, holding my face in his warm hands and

forcing me to look at him. “Tell me what I did, Chelsey. Tell me.” I couldn’t take it anymore. All the torture and suffering I was facing inside exploded and the pain and hurt I’d pushed away and ignored, surfaced, breaking me from within. I snapped. “You killed our baby!” I knew when I said the words it was wrong to accuse him, but I was drunk and hurting. I’d spent the last year of my life blaming Blaine for the loss. The doctor told me stress could cause a miscarriage and Blaine was the reason I was so stressed. He stared down at me with wide, icy eyes, paralyzed with shock. I used his shock to push him away from me. I couldn’t handle him touching me, not when everything hurt. He stumbled back, but his eyes never left mine. “What?” he choked. His voice was broken and rough. “What are you talking about, Chelsey? What baby?” “Our baby. The baby we created,” I said softly. I gripped my shirt over my belly, my fingers digging into the fabric until I felt it beginning to tear. “The baby you abandoned because of your stupid pride,” I spat. Tears rushed down my face, and I couldn’t stop them. I didn’t want to stop them. I needed to feel everything I’d pretended not to feel. I needed to grieve. “You were pregnant?” His eyes were pleading, filling with moisture as my news settled over him. “Yes. I was pregnant, Blaine. I was pregnant and you left me alone. You left because you were too fucking stubborn to talk to me.” “Tell me,” he demanded, his voice broke with emotion. “Tell me what happened.” “I told you enough.” The hurtful words I’d said to him came rushing back to me. “No.” He took a step toward me. “Tell me.” I nodded, understanding he wanted the full story. It was going to hurt, but he deserved to know. After all, it was his baby, too. “I found out I was pregnant two months after you left. I was depressed. You were gone. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I couldn’t function. I just sat in my room by my window and waited for you to come back.” I looked up and my eyes found his. “But you never came, Blaine.” I swiped at a tear that tickled my chin. “I couldn’t stop throwing up, and I was losing weight. My parents were starting to worry. I went to the doctor, and she told me I was twelve weeks along but I hid it from my parents. The doctor said the baby was growing like it should, but I was undernourished and sleep deprived. She said if I didn’t take better care of myself I could lose the baby.” I was looking at Blaine, but I wasn’t seeing him. All I could see was the nightmare that

had become my life during those months after he’d left. “I tried, Blaine,” I continued. “I really tried to snap out of it for our baby. I forced myself to eat, but I’d only throw it up later. I tried to sleep, but all I could see was your face in my dreams. I was so weak, and I hated you, but mostly I hated myself for not being strong enough to take care of my baby. My screams are what woke my parents up the night it happened. They found me in the bathroom lying in a puddle of blood. Everything hurt so much, the pain was unbearable. I just kept screaming your name over and over again.” Blaine’s arm came around me, and I let him hold me as my body shook with tears. “My parents rushed me to the emergency room where they told me I’d miscarried. I was in the hospital for weeks afterward to be treated for depression, anxiety, and panic attacks. You name the psychological issue, and I had it. I was a mess. They put me on medication and sent me home with my parents. Their solution to getting me better was to sweep everything under the rug and focus on what was most important to them—school, Columbia, and their reputation—that was all that mattered.” I stopped to take a breath, and Blaine used his thumb to wipe away my tears. “I took the meds and numbed the pain, but when I started Columbia I stopped taking them. I had a ton to focus on and I thought I was better. When I saw you at the club, I ignored all the memories you stirred, hiding them away like I was used to, but the more time we started spending together, the harder it became to ignore. I snapped the other night at your going away party, and I can’t seem to hold myself together anymore.” “The baby,” he said, understanding. “When I was holding Bobby’s little baby.” “Yes.” Neither of us said anything more, and I wasn’t really sure what was left to say. There were no words to change or erase the past or undo what was done. His body was stiff. Something changed inside of Blaine, and I was afraid that maybe I’d broken him. “Let me take you home, Chelsey. Please don’t fight me anymore.” My alcohol induced state had worn off, and with everything I’d just told Blaine, I was emotionally and physically drained. I couldn’t fight him if I tried. “Okay,” I whispered. “Take me home, Blaine.”



42 BLAINE THE RIDE BACK TO CHELSEY’S PLACE WAS A BLUR. My brain was scattered, my heart bleeding, and I couldn’t focus. I really had no business on the road. I couldn’t even remember paying attention to the road once we pulled up to her apartment building. Unclenching my fingers from the steering wheel, I looked over at Chelsey. She was curled up on the seat, her body using the door as support, and I couldn’t tell if she was asleep or awake. She looked so small and fragile, but I knew on the inside she was stronger than she was giving herself credit for. Everything was different—she was different—the way I saw her was altered. She wasn’t just the girl I’d fallen in love with anymore. She was the girl I’d broken. The girl I’d been too fucking stupid to protect. She’d carried a piece of me inside her, and I’d failed to take care of her. My eyes lingered on her, before moving over her stomach. An ache, much worse than anything I’d felt in my life, moved into my chest. I couldn’t breathe. It was like losing my parents and Chelsey all over again. I put my hand on her arm, and she jumped, grabbing the door handle. I didn’t move, afraid I’d freak her out more. When she turned toward me, her eyes found mine in the dark. She focused, and I knew she was pushing away sleep. She needed to rest. She needed to sleep off the night and start tomorrow with a clear head. “Give me your keys and stay here,” I ordered, holding out my hand. It took her a minute, but finally she pulled her keys from her pocket and dropped them in my palm. “Don’t move.” I got out of the car, and went and unlocked her apartment door. When I came back to the car, I was happy to see she’d listened and was sitting there waiting for me. Going around to her side, I opened her car door. Bending over, I scooped her into my arms and lifted her from the car. I held her tightly against me, afraid I was going to lose her at any moment. Once inside her apartment, I kicked the door closed and took Chelsey straight to her bedroom. I stopped beside her bed and looked her in the eye. “Can you stand if I put you down?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I could’ve walked inside.” I ignored her, setting her down gently. I looked down at her, the top of her head barely reaching my shoulder. She was half my size, so small, so delicate. Again, I closed my eyes against the pain of knowing I’d left her when she needed me. My fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt and lifted, the backs of my fingers moving along her soft skin. I expected her to fight me, but she didn’t. She lifted her arms, and I pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. The button of her jeans came undone easily under the pressure of my fingers, and I knelt as I pulled them down her legs. “Hold on to me,” I said, prompting her to press her hands into my shoulders. She tugged one leg from her jeans, and then the other, freeing herself and standing before me in only her panties and bra. I stood, tossing her jeans to the side, too. I felt something hit my foot, and when I looked down, there was a piece of folded paper lying there. Frowning, I bent and picked it up. Chelsey didn’t react as I started to open it. Her eyes were empty, her expression stiff with sadness. Unfolding the paper, my eyes moved over the picture and my world crumbled. I stared down at the proof of what Chelsey and I created with our love—what I’d destroyed with my pride. I swiped over the tiny print with my thumb as the reality of the situation threatened to suffocate me. I wanted to grieve over the loss—cry to the heavens—beg for forgiveness, but Chelsey needed me. Even though I was broken in two, I longed to comfort her the way I should’ve months ago. The way I should’ve the night she bled on her bathroom floor and cried for me. Cupping her cheeks, I lifted her face to mine. Her chin trembled and a fresh wave of tears wet her cheeks. Using my thumbs, I wiped them away and she closed her eyes to my touch. I leaned down, pressing a kiss to each eyelid, before placing soft kisses all over her face. Her hands gripped the sides of my shirt and she leaned into me. “It hurts, Blaine. It hurts so much.” Her voice broke, ripping through my soul. “Let me take the hurt away. Let me make you feel better the way I should’ve when you needed me. Please?” She nodded without opening her eyes. “Look at me, baby. I need to see those big, brown eyes on me.” She took deep breath and her chest pressed into mine. When she exhaled, she opened her eyes and looked into mine. She was so fucking beautiful. I had to fight to breathe. Pressing my lips against hers, I kissed her softly. I didn’t deepen the kiss, I just wanted to feel the softness of her lips, to taste the sweetness that was Chelsey.

Pushing her back against the bed, I laid her down gently. With one knee between her thighs, I hovered above her. Even after everything that happened, trust reflected in her eyes—trust I wasn’t sure I deserved—trust I’d do anything to keep. Leaning over, I brushed my lips across her stomach, silently wishing I could take her pain into myself. Her body quivered, and her fists gripped the blanket, bunching it in her fingers. “I’m so sorry for all the pain I cause you, Chelsey. I’m sorry I hurt you,” I whispered the words against her belly. “I’m so sorry, little one.” And even though I tried to hold them back for Chelsey’s sake, warm tears moved down my cheeks as I apologized to the baby we’d never know. “Blaine,” she whispered, losing her fingers in my hair. “Please.” I placed a kiss beside her navel and moved to lay on top of her. Bracing my arms on either side of her head, I looked down into her face. Fresh tears fell down the sides of her face, soaking into her hair. She reached up, and wiped my tears away. “I love you, Chelsey,” I confessed, catching her tears with my lips. “I love you so much. Please don’t hate me.” I hated myself enough for the both of us. “I love you, too,” she breathed. Pushing myself up, I pulled her panties down, letting my fingertips graze her legs. Chills moved across her skin, prompting me to kiss the inside of her knee. Standing, I tugged my jeans down my hips and let them pool on the floor at my feet. I moved between her legs again. I held her legs open, my palms digging into her inner thighs, as I pressed my lips against her heated moisture. She moaned, and her hips lifted from the bed as she pressed herself firmly against my mouth. I moved her hands around and gripped her ass as I teased and sucked her swollen knot with my tongue. She cried out, grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling. “Blaine, please.” Her voice was deep and raw from her crying. She tugged my hair again, and I followed, settling between her thighs and holding her body close to mine. “I need to feel you inside me,” she breathed. “I’ve been so empty since you’ve left. Please,” she begged. Hearing her whispered pleas was my undoing. I positioned myself against her, slowly filling her with my hard length. Her body stretched, tugging at me tightly, and sending desire through my body. I moved inside of her, wanting to savor the pleasure and the pain of being with her, wanting to mark her with my body. Making love to Chelsey felt bittersweet. And something deep in my chest told me no matter what I said or did, she’d never be the girl she used to be.

********** CHELSEY HAD NOTHING EDIBLE IN HER KITCHEN. Closing the refrigerator door, I stood with my hands on my hips and let my eyes move around her apartment. It was such a comfy place, but she needed food in the place. Chelsey had a bad habit of getting so involved in her assignments that she’d forget to eat. That needed to stop. Making my way to the bedroom, I stood in the doorway and watched as she slept. Her chest rose with her slow, steady breaths. She was sleeping so sweetly, and I wasn’t about to wake her. She needed the rest, and I knew it was going to be a while before she woke up. I wanted to be back before she did. I wanted to be the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes. Our night together was rough. We spent the night coming to terms with our past, all while trying to heal each other. I stayed up most of the night, watching her move around the bed restlessly with nightmares, and when she’d jerk awake, I’d hold her until she fell back asleep. But we’d made it through together, and I could only hope that once she woke, we could continue to heal and grow together. I wanted to be with Chelsey for the rest of my life. I wanted to start over and maybe one day start a family. The thought of kids had never really crossed my mind, but now, knowing I’d already lost a baby, the possibility warmed my heart. When I closed my eyes I could picture Chelsey swollen with our love, her stomach hard and full of a child. I wanted to spoil her. I wanted to wake up and go to the store at three AM for ice cream and pickles. Anything she wanted or needed. Anything. It was hers. I pulled my shirt on and grabbed my keys from the nightstand. My eyes fell on the black and white picture. The blurry spot in the center, the spot I knew was our baby, was more noticeable. Picking it up, I folded it and stuck it in my wallet. I wasn’t going to keep it, but I wanted it close to me for a little while. Leaning over Chelsey, I pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then I left. I wasn’t going to be gone long. Just long enough to get clean clothes from home and pick up a few things at the grocery store. I stepped into the sunlight and started toward my car. I pulled open the door and got ready to climb in, when someone sucker punched me in the back of my head. I shook the pain from my head and turned. My eyes landed on one of the frat boys from the party the night before. “Let’s see how tough you are now, you piece of shit,” the frat boy hissed. “You broke my friend’s nose, and now there’s going to be hell to pay.”

“Bring it on, motherfucker,” I growled. I went for him, shoving my shoulder into his chest and knocking him on his ass. My knuckles ached when I punched his cheek, and he turned his head to the side to spit out blood. I raised my arm to hit him again, but then I was pulled away. I struggled in the hold of three guys, as another one appeared in front of me, and then another behind him. Nice. Six against one. That’s how Ivy League bitch boys liked to play. I was held there, while three of the frat boys beat the shit out of me. It wasn’t my first real ass beating, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last. I held my head high as they took turns punching me in my stomach and in my face. And when one of them got close enough, I spit a mouthful of blood in his face. The beating got worse from that point on. At some point I began to black out. Still, I refused to go down like a pussy. I fought against their hold, and was able to break free and get a hit in before they knocked me to the ground and started kicking me at the same time. Their boots dug into my sides and head until the world around me tilted and everything went black.

********** WHEN I WOKE UP, I was in the hospital. My eyes were blurry, but no matter how much I blinked, I couldn’t clear them. The memory of the guys jumping me moved through my head, and I tried to lean up. The fuckers weren’t going to get away that shit. I was going to find them, and when I did, there would be hell to pay. Pain moved through my side, making me gasp, and I fell back onto the bed. It was then I felt something warm in my hand. I looked down to find Chelsey sleeping at my side, her fingers intertwined with mine. I smiled. Squeezing her fingers, she jumped and sat up with wide eyes. “You’re awake,” she rasped. “I’m awake.” I sounded like shit, my voice was broken and my body was bruised. “What happened? Who did this to you?” she asked. It wasn’t important. She didn’t need to know the details. I didn’t want her to feel bad or blame herself. “I don’t know,” I lied. It was for the best. “How’d you know I was here?” “Lynn and Marshall found you in the parking lot outside my apartment. We called the

ambulance and I rode with you. You’ve been here for three days.” Three fucking days. That was crazy. My eyes moved over her face and I saw the strain in her expression—the dark circles around her eyes—and the sunken skin of her cheeks. “When’s the last time you ate? Have you been here the whole time?” I asked, worry moving through me. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is you’re okay.” “Yeah,” Lynn said from the doorway. She stood there with her arms crossed with Marshall at her side. “Don’t let her lie to you, Blaine. She’s been by your side for three damn days. She won’t eat and I can barely get her to take a nap.” My eyes met Chelsey’s and she blushed. “I couldn’t leave you,” she whispered, before she leaned over and pressed a soft kiss on the top of my hand. I opened my fingers and ran them through her hair. “After all the terrible things I’d said to you. I accused you of killing our baby. I’m so sorry, Blaine. I shouldn’t have said that.” I smiled at her, my cheek aching. I was sure most of the bones in my body were broken, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was I was alive, and my girl was at my side. “Don’t apologize,” I said, running my fingers through her hair. “Let’s move past all of it. Let’s do it together. I want to start over with you Chelsey.” She nodded. A tear moved past her lashes, and she lifted her hand to wipe it away. My eyes landed on her finger, and I smiled when I saw she was wearing the promise ring I’d given her on her eighteen birthday. I took her hand, running my thumb over the ring. “You kept it.” “Of course I kept it. You gave it to me. I guarded it with my heart.” “I love you so much, Little Doe,” I said, bringing a smile to her face. “I love you, too. That’s all that matters. The rest can wait until you’re all better. “You’re here,” I said, brushing my lips across her fingers. “That’s all the better I need.”



EPILOGUE CHELSEY SEVEN YEARS LATER “CHELSEY WESLEY.” I stood when my name was called and walked down the aisle to the stage. My palms were sweaty and I felt dizzy, but I pushed forward without regard to the crowd of people there for the Commencement Ceremony. There were camera’s everywhere and the road running in front of Butler Library was completely blocked off. The ceremony was a big deal, and the amount of people who were in the audience showed that. Tucking my fingers into my light-blue gown, almost an exact match to my husband’s eyes, I took the stairs. A tornado of nerves twisted my stomach as I walked toward the man holding my future as a doctor in his hands. I swallowed hard over my parched throat and smiled into the audience. I needed to see him. He was my sense of calm, he was person who made everything right in our family. I found his handsome face among the sea of people, and instantly I felt at ease. I smiled through my tears as Blaine held our bubbly two-year-old on his lap, holding his chubby, little arm, and waving it back and forth at me. Our daughter bounced up and down in her chair next to Blaine, pulling on her daddy’s arm and pointing in my direction. Blaine’s grandma had passed two years before, and Maddie now lived with us. She was growing like a weed and starting middle school soon. Still, she stood next to Blaine and smiled up at me with the love of a sister in her eyes. Lynn and Marshall, who’d married right after Blaine and me, were a row behind my family. Lynn waved with a smile as she clutched her newborn daughter to her chest. Marshall turned out to be amazing. He’d even made sure the frat boys who’d beaten Blaine years before got what they deserved. Actually, all the men at The Golden Banana had made sure of that. With a heart full of love, and a deep breath, I took the few short steps that brought me face to face with Dean Michael’s. He smiled at me as he held my diploma out in my direction. I shook his hand and he nodded. “It’s been my pleasure to have met you, Mrs. Wesley. Congratulations on all your hard

work. You’re going to do great things.” “Thank you, Dean Michael.” I took the diploma and turned around to share one of the biggest moments of my life with the most important people in my world. I laughed, my heart flooding with love for the chaos that was my beautiful family. Blaine was standing with our babies as they cheered at the top of their lungs for me. He winked, whistling loudly, before mouthing I love you. I mouthed it back and blew them a kisses. I caught my father’s eye and I smiled at him, loving him more than anything for being there for me, too. He stood next to Blaine, his hand on my daughter’s shoulder, and so much pride in his expression. My father and I had been through a lot over the years, but we were closer than ever. It’d been four years since my parents divorced, and as much as I hurt for my father, he actually seemed happier. He was seeing a nice woman, Linda, who was visiting her sick sister in California for weekend. She was the complete opposite of my mother, and even though I was way past the age of being mothered, she was doing a great job at being a grandma to my kids. I walked toward the side of the stage, feeling a sense of pride over everything I’d accomplished over the last seven years. I went through years of therapy with Blaine for the loss of our baby, and then I married him. He was the most beautiful and loving man on the planet, a man who worked hard for his family and was there no matter what. I had a daughter with icy eyes and olive skin like her Daddy, with the attitude to match, and a son who was my twin. Blaine called him Mini Doe, and every time he looked up at me with his big, brown, doe eyes, I knew the name was a perfect match. Life was good, and I’d never been so happy. I gave Blaine one more glance before I stepped off the stage, and his blue eyes were waiting for me. He was older, and like a fine wine, he’d gotten better with age. He was tall, dark, and handsome and totally mine. Even seven years later, he was still able to work my body into a frenzy and leave me breathless in bed. After the ceremony, we went out to dinner as a family. By the time we pulled up at home, I was exhausted. The kids were asleep in the back seat, and I found myself nodding off in the passenger’s seat. Blaine and I unloaded the kids and took them inside. We dressed them for bed and tucked them in for the night. By the time we made it to our room, I was dead on my feet. I fell back onto the bed with a sigh. “Today was the longest day of my life,” I said with closed eyes. “Today was the greatest day of your life,” Blaine countered. “I’m so proud of you, baby. Have I told you that today?”

I smiled. “Yes you have, but I’ll have you know today was not the greatest day of my life. I have quite a few of those and they all star you.” “Is that so?” he asked, kneeling on the floor in front of me and peeling my heels from my feet. I moaned with satisfaction when he began to massage the balls of my feet. “Tell me what they are.” “Well, there’s the day I met you.” “Uh huh. And?” “And there’s the day we got married.” I sighed when he moved his hand over the bottom of my foot, digging deep into the soreness. “The day our beautiful kids were born. I think those were the best.” “Definitely the best days,” he agreed. He continued to massage my feet, moving his adept fingers and making my eyes roll in pleasure. Then he moved his hands up my ankle, followed by the back of my leg. He worked his way up my leg, his fingers loosening the sore muscles, and I was in absolute heaven. “God, Blaine. You make me so happy, baby,” I sighed. “I aim to please, Mrs. Wesley,” he said. I could hear the grin in this voice. “Yes, you do.” He chuckled. Then his hands moved up higher, his fingers tickling the sides of my panties. I bit into my bottom lip and enjoyed his touch. “Is there anything else I can do to make you happy?” he asked, his lips brushing the back of my knees. I sat up, sliding myself to the edge of the bet and wrapping my legs around his waist. I leaned down and kissed him, his tongue teasing mine and making me groan with want. “Actually, there is something you can do for me,” I said, pulling at his tie. “Oh really?” he asked with a lifted brown. “Anything you want, baby. Just name it.” His eyes were dilated, his breathing erratic. I pulled his tie from around his collar and tossed to the floor before wrapping my arms around his neck. “I want to be teased and pleased,” I said, biting into my lip. I grinned slyly. “Now, strip for me, Jack Hammer.”







THE PROCEDURE Copyright © 2015 by Tabatha Vargo and Melissa Andrea All Rights Reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manor whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events or real people are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The Procedure/ Tabatha Vargo/ Melissa Andrea Cover Art by Romantic Book Affairs Editing Services Provided by Cynthia Shepp Formatting provided by Inkstain Interior Book Designing







IT HURT. Heartbreak. It was like a hollow-point bullet to the chest. The minute I stepped into our bedroom and saw him there with her, the pain struck me deep in my heart and exploded. My insides burned from the explosion, and I felt as if I were bleeding internally. I’d known for a while that Michael was cheating on me. I’d seen the gossip papers and I’d heard the talk, but seeing it firsthand was a whole different ballgame. It was the truth, staring me in the face and laughing. Everything I’d heard about the last few years and denied came rushing over me. Her head was hanging over the side of our bed. Strawberry-blonde hair dragged across the newly installed hardwood flooring—flooring I’d taken a week to pick out. Her perky breasts sat up strong, barely bouncing to the rhythmic pounding Michael was giving her. She was young, much younger than I was, and her chest was perfection. Obviously, she’d felt the sting of a scalpel. Looking down at my own thirty-year-old breasts, I couldn’t help but feel less than. Michael’s solid shoulder muscles flexed and released as he worked his lower body. His hard ass muscles bunched with each thrust. His body was tone and tan—a product of his many afternoons at the gym. I never understood why a lawyer needed to work out the way he did, but I was more than happy with the results, even if I didn’t get to enjoy them the way the girl in bed with him obviously was. She ran her fingers though his blond hair, tugging at the tips, and making him growl, before running her nails down his glistening back muscles. Deep scratches followed her fingers, welting before my eyes. I felt as invisible as I had for the last three years as Michael continued to pound into her lithe, Pilates-practiced body like his life depended on it. Her leg was slung over his shoulder as if he couldn’t manage to get deep enough—as if he wanted to disappear inside of her. He’d never made love to me that way in all of our nine years of marriage. Never. Michael had always treated me as if I were breakable. His touch soft and almost nonexistent. His thrusts shallow and unhurried, as if going any deeper would break me in two. I was only worth quiet missionary that would have already been over. He would lean over me, get what he wanted, and leave me burning with unreleased feelings and a longing much stronger than it was before we started. Never would he have flipped me over, pulled my hair, or smacked my ass the way he was doing with the young, supple woman he was with. Of course, it had been almost a year since he’d touched me. Maybe his style had changed since then.

Slowly, I backed away, tucking my pride deep into my stomach. I should have been angry. I should have lashed out and went on the attack—asked for a divorce and threatened to take half of his millions, but I didn’t. I was embarrassed and, strangely, I was worried about what the girl he was sleeping with would think of me. I didn’t want her to see me. It was as if seeing me would help her understand why Michael was cheating on his wife. I was a waif of a woman. Thick where I should have been slender. Saggy where I should have been pert. Where her body made no movement—tight and fit—mine would have jiggled. My hair was longer than hers was, but while hers surged with blonde highlights and life, mine was dull and the most solid color of yellow. Her blue eyes were brilliant, while my brown were nothing more than a smudge of color on my lackluster face. I didn’t compare. I’d never compare. Backing toward the door, I couldn’t seem to get out of the room fast enough. The air was thick with their lovemaking. The sounds and smells of their bodies coming together lingered in the air around me—sweetness and sweat. My back collided with the wall, sending a picture of Michael and me on our wedding day crashing to the floor. All movement stopped. Michael’s hips stilled, and the girl lifted her head from my pillow. I’d secretly hoped that shame would fill Michael’s face and he’d drop to his knees and ask for forgiveness, but that was not what happened. Instead, he pumped his hips once more, smiled as if I were totally used to seeing my husband have sex with another woman, and then asked, “Want to join us?” Nausea rolled in my stomach at his words. Us? They weren’t us. Michael and I were us. Yet there I was, standing in my bedroom, surrounded by everything I owned, feeling like a total outsider. I supposed in a way, it was my fault. I should have called Michael and let him know I was coming home from Seattle early, but it wasn’t like I expected my father to die so soon. Usually when the oncologist said three-to-six weeks before the cancer killed you, they didn’t mean three-to-six days. I shook my head, moving away from the wall and closer to the door. “You sure?” he asked, his eyes challenging and his smile crooked. “You might actually show some emotion if you fuck a woman.” The girl beneath him licked her lips in my direction and laughed. Pushing her thick hair from her sweaty cheeks, she showed no remorse for the situation. Instead, she pressed her ass against Michael as if she were begging for more. “No,” I squeaked. “No, thank you.” And then like the coward I was, I turned and left the room. Taking the stairs quicker than my heels would allow, I stumbled and fell down the last three. My ankle twisted beneath me and tears finally sprang to my eyes. I wasn’t sure what hurt worse, Michael’s

careless betrayal or my ankle. Either way, I limped away and left the house like a wounded animal. Nine years. That was how much of my life I’d given Michael. My best years were spent trying to be everything he wanted me to be, and still, I wasn’t enough. Honestly, I didn’t even know who I was anymore. I’d spent so much time being what he wanted that the girl I used to be had perished. A causality of the war I’d waged on trying to keep Michael happy. I was so young when I’d met him—so naïve and sure that Michael would love me forever. He’d promised my father the day we got married that he’d take care of me and make me happy for the rest of my life. That was one promise he never meant to keep. Now my father was gone, and I was all alone in the world. Michael was all I had, and I was about to lose him. No matter what I had to do, I’d make him want me again. No matter what.



TWO WEEKS LATER, and after a ton of research on the topic, I was sitting in the waiting room of Miami’s best plastic surgeon, looking at before-and-after photos. It was amazing the changes a doctor could make, and I was looking forward to changing myself for the better. The waiting room was empty. The sounds of the large, saltwater fish tank filled the space. My eyes lingered on the tropical coral reef and the exotic fish that moved languidly through the water. Oh, to be a fish and glide carelessly through life. The door opened, taking my attention away from the tank, and a slim brunette walked in and went to the counter. She stood with her back to me—her curvy figure accentuated by the tight pants and stylish shirt she was wearing. Girls like her were the reason I was there in the first place. She was perfect, and I wanted that kind of perfection. I had dreams of slimmer hips and a gap between my thighs. I envisioned a flatter stomach and perky breasts. Running my fingers down my face, I thought how much smaller my nose could be and how much brighter my eyes might look once I’d had a face-lift. I wanted the works. “Mrs. Aldridge, the doctor will see you now,” the nurse said, waking me from my daydream. Collecting my expensive purse, I stood on shaking knees and followed the nurse to the back. She was my age. An auburn ponytail bounced with her step, occasionally showing off her tiny diamond earrings. Her teal scrubs were cute and baggy, but still showed off her short stature and small frame. She opened a door for me, and held it open, allowing me to enter before her. The room was just like any other room at the doctor’s office. Pastel-green covered the walls, and the sterile smells of a germ-free environment tickled my nose. Along the walls were posters of the female and male body. Colorful pictures depicted muscles in red and bone in white. Examples of how changes could easily be made showed in step-by-step processes made my skin crawl. Reaching under the cabinet, the nurse pulled out a white, paper gown and handed it to me. “You can leave on your panties.” The nurse looked up me sympathetically as my shaky fingers brushed hers, and I took the gown from her hands. She gave me her best ‘don’t worry’ look and patted my arm. “Don’t worry, honey,” she said. “Dr. Blake is the best. He’s done wonders for every one of his patients. Whatever it is, I’m confident he’ll fix it.” She gave me an encouraging smile and turned to leave me in the room alone. Guilt and nerves rolled in my stomach, and I was worried I might lose my breakfast. I

hadn’t exactly lied about my reasoning for my appointment with the plastic surgeon, but I’d spent the last two weeks stalking him and I knew his rules. Reconstructive only. I shivered as I thought about the horror stories and images I could never un-see. Picture after picture of all the botched plastic surgeries some women had endured. I refused to let some fresh-out-of-school doctor use me as his first Frankenstein project. I didn’t have many friends, close or acquaintances, but I knew a few of the women at the country club Michael and I attended flaunted their plastic surgeries like they did a new pair of Manolos. I’d seen those women before and after and I had to admit, they were better afterward. As embarrassed as I was, I worked up the nerve to strike up a conversation with Molly Douglas and gushed over her pretty, pink lipstick and how fabulous it looked on her. That was all the encouragement she needed to tell me all about the plastic surgeon who did a “little” work on her lips. Dr. Marcus Stein was apparently the surgeon every Miami housewife was turning to when they needed a little pick-me-up. I listened carefully as she explained her experience and when another woman joined and then another, I realized how much I missed conversation with other people. When two other women joined us thirty minutes later, I took it as more than a coincidence and counted my blessings when she introduced herself as the one and only Mrs. Stein. The other women praised her husband’s work and giggled like teenage girls when they asked what it was like to have those hands on her every night. As the conversation grew and the mimosas filled everyone’s system, the conversation turned to Dr. Stein’s partner, Dr. Roman Blake. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol talking, but Mrs. Stein was all too willing to admit that as good as her husband was, the one and only Dr. Blake was better. I listened intently, hanging on to her every word of the infamous Roman Blake before excusing myself to run home and Google him. The whole drive home I wondered why, if Dr. Blake was so much better, they hadn’t gotten him to do their surgeries. Maybe if I had stayed just a little longer, I would have found out and I wouldn’t have set my hopes so high on the one and only Dr. Roman Blake. Swallowing hard, I set my purse on the chair to my side and slowly began to undress. The gown was gaping in the back, letting cool air skim my back and ass. Tucking it around me, I carefully sat on the paper-protected bed in a way that would keep me covered. Wiggling my ass until I felt a semblance of comfort, I sat and swung my legs from the bed like a child as I waited for the doctor to come in. I heard the rattle of the clipboard on the back of the door, and then there was a soft knock before the door slowly opened. As I held my breath, the ball of nerves in my stomach exploded. I wasn’t sure what I expected. When I thought of a top plastic surgeon, I pictured an

older man with lots of experience and knowledge. A man that had lived a long life and had the wrinkles to show it. That was not who walked into the room. No. This man wasn’t much older than I was, and he was tall and big. Not in the way that he’d had too many cheeseburgers and fries over the last few years, but so muscled that his scrubs, which should have hung loosely from his frame, rubbed his thick thighs like they were a second skin. He adjusted the long, white coat he was wearing and shut the door behind him. The room instantly felt ten times smaller when he fully entered. “Mrs. Aldridge, how are you?” Dear God in heaven, the man was British. My thigh muscles clenched with the sweet tilt of each of his words. His voice was deep and musical. I felt each clipped word in places that hadn’t had feeling in over a year. As he flipped up a page on the clipboard and looked over my file, his sleeves were pushed up and I couldn’t help but notice how thick his forearms were. Solid. Tan. Perfection. His long fingers worked a black pen as he made notes on my file. He lacked a wedding band. Not that I usually checked for things like that, but I made a mental note that he wasn’t married. “I’m…” I finally managed to wedge out, but I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Fine was what I normally would’ve said, but when I hesitated, he looked away from his note taking and waited for me to respond. His eyes clashed with mine, and I was instantly reminded of a shot glass full of whiskey. The caramel brown of his eyes glittered under the florescent lights above us. A tiny smile tilted his full lips and plunged a sweet dimple into his cheek. The air was literally sucked from my lungs, and I felt the heat of a few glasses of whiskey on my cheeks. “I’m actually really nervous,” I confessed honestly. Honesty would be the death of me one day. He laughed and tucked away the clipboard. “I assure you that’s quite normal. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever had a patient who wasn’t nervous at some point during this whole experience. A lot of my patients have a hard time wrapping their mind around the fact that everything will change for them.” I knew I had to tell him now, but fear choked me and I couldn’t breathe, let alone explain to him I wasn’t like most of his patients. I desperately didn’t want him to turn me away. Reject me. I wanted this more than I wanted anything in my entire life. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, snapping me from my inner fears. “I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Dr. Blake, but you can call me Dr. Roman if you’d like. My father is Dr. Blake as far as I’m concerned.” He smiled innocently. He reached out his hand for mine, and a few seconds passed before I realized he wanted to shake my hand. My arm felt like fifty pound weights were attached to it as I

lifted it and placed my hand in his large, warm one. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Aldridge.” And then, bless my poor heart, he smiled down at me, both dimples popping. I momentarily forgot why I was there, who I was, and who he was. Time froze for a few seconds and in that moment, something totally amazing happened. I got turned on. Just like that. No touching or sweet whispers. No sexual promises. Just a smile that almost shattered my reason for being there and an accent I’d swim the Atlantic Ocean to feel spoken against my skin. I gave him the limpest handshake imaginable and then embarrassed, I pulled my hand from his and shifted on the table, suddenly realizing I was wearing a thin paper gown and nothing else but my panties. “You too,” I croaked. Folding his large frame, he took a seat in the rolling chair across from me and then used his strong legs to pull himself toward me. I knew what was coming. I knew he was going to ask me the dreaded question. The urge to scream and run from the room, arms flailing, was almost tempting. “So, tell me your story, Ms. Aldridge. How can I help you?” His eyes dropped briefly to my chart again. “Your file says you wanted to talk to me in person about your condition…” His sentence faded as he waited for me to fill in the blanks. I watched patience settle into the curves of his face, making me want to pour my heart out to him. My condition… and there it was. I knew the question was going to be asked. I expected it. My answer was on the tip of my tongue, yet I couldn’t let the words loose. After two hours of intense research on Miami’s number-one reconstructive surgeon, Dr. Roman Blake, my dreams felt crushed. I knew, now, why the women from the country club hadn’t used him to work on them. As I read article after article on Dr. Blake, my despair grew as they all said the same thing. Roman Blake had started out as a plastic surgeon—his reasoning a personal choice he’d always kept to himself. However, his first year at a private practice, he suddenly changed his field from plastics to reconstruction only. There were speculations and rumors for his decision, but without any confirmation from Roman Blake himself, that was all it was. From then on, he had refused any and all plastic surgery patients, leaving that to his business partner, Stein. I didn’t know why I thought I would be the one to change his mind after all this time, but that didn’t seem to matter because here I was. I should be feeling a good amount of confidence over my decision. I had talked myself through the whole appointment with the understanding that no matter how much it cost, or under what terms he requested, I was going to have Dr. Blake as my surgeon. I wanted to hold my head up high, sit straighter, and tell him exactly what I wanted… even if confessing what I wanted right now in this moment wasn’t a new body, but to feel

alive in my old one. Instead, I lowered my head with embarrassment filling my cheeks, picturing him as the older man I had envisioned before I entered the office. “I want everything done,” I stated, in a matter-of-fact tone. Apparently, I was going to feign ignorance. He frowned and shifted in his chair. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Aldridge, I don’t think I understand. What is it you’re asking me to do?” I squirmed under his gaze. “Cosmetic surgery.” Something shifted, and gone was his patience and sensitivity for my “condition”. His jaw hardened, making a vein in his neck tick and his eyes become cold. “I’m sorry, Ms. Aldridge, but I don’t do cosmetic surgery. That’s Dr. Stein’s area. I’m strictly reconstructive, but I think you knew that, considering you pretended to have a condition that required reconstructive surgery in order to see me.” I flushed under his accusation. “Dr. Blake, please let me explain.” “I’m sorry,” he said firmly, cutting me off, “but you’ve wasted not only your time, Ms. Aldridge, but mine, as well.” “Please,” I begged, grabbing his forearm. It was warm and hard under my hand. The muscles shifted beneath my fingers, relaying the raw strength in his arm. “Please let me explain.” “You have five minutes, Ms. Aldridge, but you should know I have no intention of changing my mind.” I took a deep breath and tried not to do the one thing I wanted to do in that moment. Throw up. “I’m sorry that I deceived my way into a meeting with you, but I didn’t know what else to do. I knew you wouldn’t see me if I was upfront and honest about what I wanted.” He surprised me by snapping, “Damn right.” “I know I’m not like your other patients, Dr. Roman.” “Real,” he said, confusing me. “I’m sorry?” “My real patients. You know, people with real issues? The ones born with deformities or who were in terrible accidents that left them scarred and changed forever,” he corrected. “Tell me, Ms. Aldridge, why did you come to me, knowing Dr. Stein would have been more than willing to do whatever you wanted done?” “I wanted the best.” “Dr. Stein is good at what he does.” “But he’s not the best. You are, and I wanted the best.”

He eyed me. “Please don’t mistake my curiosity for anything more than that, but what exactly does everything consist of to you, Mrs. Aldridge?” he asked. I didn’t hesitate as I answered truthfully, giving him a tiny glimpse at my vulnerability. “Any and everything that will make me beautiful.” Another deep, dark confession and the minute the words left my mouth, I felt like an idiot, but it was the truth. Secretly, I wondered if maybe they leaked some kind of truth serum through the air vents to get the patients to bare it all. I wondered what Dr. Roman would think if I told him I wanted things sucked, tucked, lifted, and reshaped. I wanted to be the young sex goddess my husband was probably screwing right at that moment. When he didn’t respond, I brought him into focus. My cheeks heated when I realized Dr. Roman was looking at me as if I’d suddenly grown several heads, and the embarrassment burned hotter on my cheeks. This had to work. I needed to save whatever was left of my marriage. I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to, but I did have Michael’s money, and I’d use it to save us if I had to. “I’m confused,” he uttered. “You want me to make you beautiful?” I knew it sounded totally ridiculous, and I was sure he thought I was some freak addicted to medical procedures or something. There were a lot of women out there with money and nothing better to spend it on then a new nose and a few cheek implants. I’d seen the consequence of a plastic surgery addiction, but I wasn’t doing this just because. I wanted to look good, not overworked and unnatural. “Yes. I want to be beautiful.” Rolling away from me, yet keeping his whiskey-colored eyes locked on mine, he rested his forearms on his thighs, drawing my attention to this thick legs and crotch. Quickly, I averted my eyes. Then he did two things that I hadn’t experienced since I was a whole hell of a lot younger. His eyes slowly dragged down my body and then back up, making me blush under his inspection. I wanted to cover myself, but oddly enough, I didn’t feel ashamed the way Michael made me feel when he looked at me. Maybe it was because Dr. Roman didn’t have that look of disgust in his eyes. “Who told you that you weren’t beautiful?” His question caught me off guard, and I sat there, confused and speechless. “What?” He sat back in his chair. “Obviously, someone made you feel as if you needed to change yourself.” Suddenly, I was too ashamed to admit that I was doing this for a man who may or may not love me, and who was sleeping with every twenty-year-old he could get his hands on. “Then why would you go through all of this effort? I’m trying to understand why an already-attractive woman would want to undergo extensive plastic surgery when there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with her other than an unhealthy self-image.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Unless someone, someone important to her, made her feel

and think otherwise.” I opened my mouth to say something, but instead, I snapped it shut. My shoulders stiffened when the memories of all the magazine articles about Michael sleeping with a different A-lister every month bombarded me, which of course, brought on the memory of the blonde he had facedown on my side of the bed. The memories, too, of his unimpressed eyes the few times I’d tried to dress sexy for him—the way they skimmed my body in horror once he realized I was trying to turn him on. My dreams of one day having a baby with Michael had died then and never returned. “It’s just…” I prepared myself to explain, but I lost the nerve. Whatever had been in the air before had faded and with it, so did another confession. “I need this.” He watched me. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to find and maybe he didn’t either, because he sighed and stood. Holding my breath, I prayed and hoped I’d made him understand enough to change his mind. “I’m sorry, Ms. Aldridge, but you don’t need anything. A child with a cleft lip who has trouble eating needs this. A woman whose face was destroyed in a car accident and can no longer get a job needs this. You, on the other hand, are perfectly healthy and fine just the way you are,” he said, and with those words, he took the last bit of hope I had with him. “Insecurities are something I know about, and women tend to have a lot of them. That’s not me being sexist…” he said firmly, “it’s just a simple fact. I understand you thought you needed to come here, but I hope you can understand that you don’t need to be here at all.” “Does that mean you won’t help me?” He stared at me for a long moment and then sighed. “No. I’m sorry, but I won’t.” Even though I knew coming to see Dr. Roman was a long shot, I still felt stunned by his refusal. I should have expected him to say no. I was nothing or no one special. Rejection was my best friend. “Why?” “I’m not a cosmetic plastic surgeon, Ms. Aldridge.” “But you used to be.” His jaw twitched at my words, and something sad and regretful darkened his eyes before a spark of annoyance covered it. “Exactly. Used to be. And honestly, Ms. Aldridge, even if I still were, I wouldn’t do any work on you. You don’t need cosmetic surgery.” I felt a little spark of anger. “Isn’t that for me to decide?” “Yes, but I can refuse to do the work.” He looked down at his watch. “Money isn’t an issue,” I blurted, launching forward and almost knocking myself off the table. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Instead of that making him stop and think twice about walking out of the door, it only seemed to make him angrier. “Excuse me?” “I’ll pay whatever you want. Just name the price and I’ll pay it. Whatever it is.” As I heard the words leave my mouth and echo off the walls, I suddenly felt pathetic sitting there, begging the man in front of me to make me beautiful. But it was said and done, and now I had to live with it. Taking a step towards me, he loomed over me as his furious eyes bore down into mine. His large shoulders went up with each of his deep breaths, making me feel small. He was huge. “There is no amount of money you can throw at me, Ms. Aldridge, to make me change my mind. I perform surgery on those who actually need it. I’m not here to entertain you or all the other bored housewives of Miami with unnecessary surgery after surgery until there is nothing left of the real woman you used to be. Or worse.” He didn’t elaborate on what he meant by or worse. “Look, I’m sorry I can’t help you, but I’m not that kind of doctor anymore, Ms. Aldridge. Plastic surgery isn’t a quick fix for boredom, loneliness, or a housewife looking for a project.” He took a breath. “Obviously, I can’t tell you what to do, but you seem determined and I’d hate for you to end up under the hands of some money-hungry quack with a God complex and a scalpel. So if you’re still going to get the surgery done no matter what, Dr. Stein is a very good doctor and would be more than happy to meet with you.” I should have been angry as his blatant refusal and maybe under the frustration, there was some, but all I could focus on was my heart-sinking disappointment. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time, Doctor.” “And I yours, Ms. Aldridge.” He moved to leave the room, but he stopped. “I don’t know anything about you, I don’t claim to know a lot of anything, really, but at the risk of offending you, it seems like you just need someone to talk to.” Looking up at him, I stiffened my shoulders. “You’re right, Dr. Blake. You don’t know anything about me. Thank you for your time.” Turning away, I waited for him to leave the room. When the door shut, I wanted to curl up into a ball and sob, but I slowly got dressed and got the hell out of there.



I CAME HOME to an empty house. Michael had some work in Los Angeles, and he had taken the first flight out without saying goodbye. He’d be gone for most of the week, which I hated. Being alone in our house, which was too big for two people, was scary and lonely. My imagination would get the best of me, and every noise was someone ready to kill me. I wasn’t sure why I felt safer when Michael was home. Odds were he’d trip me to save himself. Most of the time, I wondered if he even cared for me at all. Other times, I was almost positive he still did. Otherwise, why wouldn’t he have asked for a divorce by now? Sometimes, when he looked at me, I thought maybe he still loved me. However, that was if I was even in the same room with him awake for more than ten minutes, and only if he took the time to look at me. Starting a hot bath and peeling off my clothes, I settled into the steaming water. The sting of the hot water felt good against my sensitive skin. Cupping the water in my palms, I attempted to wash away the embarrassment of my day. I could still see the look in Dr. Roman’s eyes when I’d told him what I wanted. I could only imagine what he was thinking. I was just another bored housewife, he’d said. Maybe I was. I wasn’t an idiot. What he said made sense, but I wanted my life back. The one I had in the beginning with Michael —the happy smiles and long conversations. I wanted the touches. God, I wanted those so badly. My body hummed just thinking about them. After the water began to cool, I put on my most comfortable, yet most unattractive, pajamas and set out for bed. I skipped getting into our bed and instead opted to sleep in the guest room. It was appropriate considering I felt more like a guest in my own house. Plus, the memories of Michael and that girl in my bed made it feel dirty. The sheets had long been washed, but it didn’t matter. The room was forever tarnished with her. I barely slept that night, jumping at every tiny noise, convinced as soon as I closed my eyes that some crazy person would come in and murder me in my sleep. I didn’t feel better until Alma, our maid, came in early the next morning to clean. I caught up on my sleep to the sound of her vacuuming downstairs. Michael came home two days later. I braved embarrassment to go to his office and see him. His dark blond hair covered his handsome face as he looked down at some paperwork on his desk. He had a masculine office. Dark blue walls boasted college degrees, assuring anyone who entered his space that he was capable at his job. Michael was a lawyer for high-profile clientele. His job was to cover the mishaps of the rich and famous and take care of anyone who was out to ruin their careers or reputations. He’d come a long way from the broke pro-bono lawyer he was when I’d first

met him after a car accident I’d had. I thought about how he’d taken my case and promised me that he’d get the money for my doctor bills. He assured me I wasn’t to blame, stepped into the courtroom like a force to be reckoned with, and got every dime I deserved. A week later, I received a call from him, asking if I’d like to go on a date. The rest was history. Stepping deeper in his office, which consisted of mahogany furnishings and fine leather chairs, I shut the door behind me. The sound of the door clicking grabbed his attention. His eyes moved over my body before he turned back to his paperwork. “To what do I owe this honor?” he asked. I could hear the tension in his voice. He didn’t want me there. Still, I pushed through. Clearing my throat of nerves, I moved closer to his desk and took a seat. “I thought maybe we could get lunch.” His pen stopped moving. He placed it gently on the desk before shaking his head and looking up at me. His blond hair still hung in his green eyes, causing him to look even more handsome. A tiny smile formed on his lips, making me think that maybe he’d finally go for it. “Samantha, sweetie, when’s the last time we ate lunch together?” he asked. The way my name moved across his lips sent chills down my spine. It had been so long since he addressed me by my full name instead of Sam. I held my head high, sure that I was finally getting somewhere with him. “A year maybe?” He nodded. “That sounds about right. Let me ask you something else… If I haven’t taken the time to stop my day to eat lunch with you since then, what would make you think I’d be interested to do so now?” He spoke sweetly, but his words were meant to be hurtful and rude. I hated when he spoke to me that way, as if I were too stupid to understand what he was trying to say. “I don’t know. I guess I just thought…” He cut me off. “Exactly. Do yourself a favor, Sam. Don’t think anymore. You’re only embarrassing yourself.” And then he picked up his pen and went back to work as if I weren’t sitting there. Hurt burned like acidic bile in the back of my throat and chest. Standing, I started toward the door, but he stopped me. “Don’t expect me for dinner tonight or expect me home early for that matter.” “Oh?” I said, trying to keep the hurt and agony from my voice. “Will you be at the office?” His brows pulled together. He wasn’t used to me questioning his late nights. Normally, I wouldn’t, but obviously, I enjoyed being tortured. Part of me wanted to see if he would

lie to me or if he would just come out and say he planned to have sex with someone that wasn’t his age-appropriate wife. After finding him with someone else in our bed and his response to me catching him, I wondered if he figured there was no reason for him to hide or lie to me anymore. I wanted to ask him if he planned to bring more women to our home, but I wasn’t brave enough to. “Actually, no. Bill Hendrix is having one of his parties tonight, and we were invited.” He dropped his attention to his work, writing me off as mere background noise if I wished to continue this conversation. “We?” “Hmmm?” he mumbled. “Oh, yeah, but don’t worry,” he waved his hand in my direction, “I gave your usual excuse.” “I want to go,” I rushed out, twisting my hands together in front of me. I caught his attention again, and he looked up at me. “You do?” He eyed me suspiciously. I’d had my heart set on Dr. Blake doing my surgery. If he wasn’t going to, then I didn’t want anyone to do it. So I was moving on to plan B and praying that was going to work. “Yes. It’s been a long time since I’ve gone to a party with you. I think it would be nice.” I shrugged, secretly praying he would agree. But he didn’t “You won’t know anyone there.” “Actually, I met Bill’s wife a few weeks ago at the country club. I met a few different wives there. They’re nice, and we got—” “Whatever,” he said, cutting me off. “If you want to come, fine.” In code, that meant he hadn’t found a replacement yet, and he was too busy to make an effort to. Everyone knew Michael didn’t show up to a party alone just because his wife didn’t want to come, especially after what happened the last time. He pointed a finger at me. “But don’t expect me to babysit you all night. There’s going to be a lot of important people there, and I don’t want them thinking I have a clingy wife. That scares clients away from wanting to do business with me.” By clients, he meant his whores, and by business, he meant sex. “What time should I be ready?” “Eight and go shopping for something new. You haven’t been to one of these in a while, if you’ve forgotten.” His eyes found mine for a brief, evil second. I knew exactly what he meant, and I hadn’t forgotten. I wondered what I’d done to him to make him so cruel and hateful. “I’ll see you at eight.”

I closed the door to his office before he had the chance to destroy another tiny piece of me. As I made my way to my car, embarrassment colored my skin red and made a jolt of tingles fizz in my stomach when I remembered that night two years ago. Michael was becoming worse, meaner toward me, and having a crowd to entertain only made him that much harder to bear. I’d become the center of his cruelty, and he never passed up an opportunity to put me down or humiliate me in front of his “friends”. My humiliation became a sport and his source of power, building his ego and giving him a false sense of being a man. I endured it, letting him bring me to tears in the bathroom of a stranger’s home. Later, when we were alone and I’d confide my hurt to him, he’d apologize and promise not to do it again, but I learned to stop believing that meant anything to him. Eventually, I stopped going to them with him, and he was more than willing to leave me at home alone. It wasn’t until months later that I heard the whispered rumors of Michael bringing other women with him. I didn’t want to believe it. Michael loved me, I loved him, and there was no way he had betrayed me like that. I vowed to go to the next party, but Michael didn’t even mention them to me anymore. He was dressed and heading out of the door without me. When I offered to get ready and meet him there, he told me not to bother. With a kiss on the forehead, he was gone. Determined not to be one of those wives who just sat around while her marriage fell apart, I got ready for the party anyway. I showed up an hour later and searched the crowd for my husband. I felt empowered. I was taking back what was rightfully mine. I would show Michael I still cared, I still loved him, and we could make this work. But then I saw the raven-haired twenty-three-year-old rubbing against my husband, and I felt the warrior in me shatter. And then the whispers, laughter, and sympathy made its way around the room like we were at a sporting event, and everyone was doing a wave of different reactions. I was defeated, feeling like a failure to keep my husband. When his eyes found mine, there wasn’t even a hint of remorse. It was easier to pretend I was oblivious to the fact that my husband was cheating on me and cry myself to sleep every time Michael left to an event and came home in the early hours of the morning. My father raised me never to give up. Despite everything that had happened in the last two years, I still loved Michael because the man he used to be was still so strong in my memories. He was all I’d ever known and loved, and I wasn’t ready to give up on what once was. I wasn’t sure how much more of my situation I could take. Mentally and physically, I had needs that weren’t being fulfilled. I felt like half a woman walking around, waiting for something Michael was obviously not willing to give me. I was so pathetic I couldn’t even get a plastic surgeon to give me surgery. Instead of going home, I went shopping for something that I thought Michael would

find sexy. I hated Michael’s work parties. I hated the way half of the people looked at me like I wasn’t good enough to be there and the other half looked at me with pity-filled eyes. Pity for the wife they thought was too stupid to know what her own husband was doing behind her back. As I held up the dress against my body, I imagined what I would look like in it tonight. It was something totally out of my comfort zone, but I needed to do something drastic and quick. I was also bound and determined to turn some heads at the party too. Hopefully, one of those heads would be Michael’s. Smiling, I was blissfully happy in my own little world, imagining the look in Michael’s eyes as he took me in tonight. I wanted to be nothing short of blowing his mind, and I was sure my new dress would do the trick. Michael didn’t show up until almost nine, which meant I sat around the house, sure that I’d gotten all dressed up for nothing, and he was taking one of his bimbos with him instead. When I heard the door open and the familiar sound of his footsteps on the marble tile, I got excited. I’d taken extra care with my hair and makeup, and the lady who sold me the short, black, Vera Wang dress I was wearing assured me it was made for me. My legs were waxed to perfection and the diamond-encrusted and black-strapped Jimmy Choos that covered my feet made my ass look round and ready when I looked in the mirror. Standing, I adjusted my dress and waited for him to look at me when he entered the room. Excitement and hope swam through me, making my pulse accelerate. A smile pulled at my ruby-red lips because I just knew I looked great. I felt pretty, and I hadn’t felt that way in so long. The door opened, and there he was. His eyes dragged from my face, over my cleavage and stomach, before falling and following the bit of thigh that was showing and my legs. Optimism bloomed inside of me. He was actually looking at me, following my curves as if I’d mesmerized him in some way. It felt powerful. “What the fuck are you wearing?” he asked abruptly, his eyes clashing with mine. My bubble of happiness popped instantly. His expression changed to one of disgust, and my stomach bottomed out. Reaching down, I ran my fingers across the bottom hem of my dress. “I got it for you. Do you… don’t you like it?” My voice sounded as weak as my stomach felt. “Stop fucking around and change. You know you’re too old for a dress like that. Are you trying to embarrass me, Sam? What made you think you could ever pull something like that off?” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Not that it would have mattered. I’d failed to do anything more than disgust him further. Waving a hand in my direction, he dismissed me. “You have ten minutes to change or I’m leaving without you. And wipe off the whore lipstick. And then he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him and breaking

away the remaining pieces of my heart. The hurt part of me wanted to curl up into a ball and lose myself, or what was left of me, in the darkness of the night. But the part of me that desperately wanted to try and salvage the rest of the night slowly peeled the straps of my new black dress down my shoulders.



I WASN’T SURE who put event going in my job description, but apparently, it was a part of my career. Reconstructive, or even cosmetic surgery for that matter, had absolutely nothing to do with the party going on around me except for the fact that more than half of the partygoers had been touched by my partner’s scalpel a time or two. Downing my second drink, I sat at the bar and contemplated how I was going to escape the dreaded event. I worked a long day, performing Tori’s fourth graph surgery in the last four months. I desperately needed this one to take because I wasn’t sure how much more the eight-year-old could handle. Her parents were starting to lose faith, and more importantly than that, so was Tori. No little girl wanted to be cooped up in a hospital or hospital bed for four long, painful months. I had a soft spot for all my patients, even more so for the younger ones, and I knew I got overly attached to them. But Tori was different from all the rest because she reminded me so much of her. I checked my watch, knowing I was going to stop by the hospital on my way home to check on her one more time. Hopefully, she’d be asleep and her pain would be manageable. Shoving my hands into the pockets of my suit pants, I surveyed the guests. My partner, Richard Stein, was sure that going to the party full of rich and powerful people would bring more clientele to the practice. Judging the women there, I was positive he wouldn’t have any problems keeping his schedule full and busy over the next few months. I was convinced he had enough clientele to last him the rest of the year. A waiter passed with a tray stocked full of champagne glasses, and I was quick to take one off his hands. Champagne wasn’t my thing, but I figured I’d down it as I waited for the bartender to bring me my next drink. The last thing I wanted was to run into someone who was dying to just ask a few questions and be completely sober. Stein was definitely different from me—he’d perform any procedure on anyone, even if they didn’t need it. It was all about the money for him. He hadn’t always been like that, but he’d changed a lot over the last few years with the success of the practice. Miami had a way about it, with its hot, steamy weather and even hotter beach bodies that made the people so full of themselves. That included Stein. He was a good man, but the Miami life had gotten to him. When we first started Blake & Stein, we both stood for something. We had a purpose. But now, I wasn’t sure what Richard stood for anymore, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to be able to just look away while he scheduled surgery after surgery for some uninformed young girl who thought she needed to be perfect. I’d learned my lesson the hard way, and I wasn’t willing to perform anything on

anyone who didn’t need it. I’d been that way since my first year as a plastic surgeon. Mary Sinclair was a name I’d never forget, but seeing Samantha Aldridge, another woman begging for plastic surgery, and hearing her bring up my past, stirred up emotions and memories I hadn’t thought about in a while. Clearing my throat loudly to get the bartender’s attention, I set down the untouched champagne glass and again ordered myself a real drink. “Jack Daniels, please,” I said to the bartender. I turned and watched the room as I continued to wait for my drink. The dance floor was full of couples slow dancing to the soft jazz music the band was playing, but the tables were also full of chatty women and men. The loudest of the men being Michael Aldridge, a powerful attorney I’d had the unfortunate luck of meeting one too many times. He was rude and full of himself—a different young lady by his side every time I saw him, even though the entire Miami population knew he was married. Although, on this night, he was obviously alone, which meant his wife must have attended the event with him. I watched from afar as he laughed loudly and slapped the back of a gentleman beside him. He downed his drink, left the table, and headed toward another table. A single woman sat alone, the stark whiteness of the tablecloth sticking out since no one was at the table with her. Her head was down and her shoulders slumped as she sipped a glass of champagne. There was something familiar about her slender frame, dirty-blonde hair, and the way she held herself, but I had yet to see her face. Michael came up behind her and gripped her shoulders, prompting her to lift her head, and her face shifted with that same weak, but brave smile. Samantha Aldridge. I’d been so wrapped up in my own anger over her visit and her insane plea to make her beautiful that her last name hadn’t even registered. I hadn’t even considered that she might be the wife of such a piece of shite. The entire meeting had thrown me and my mood for a loop and to an unwanted trip into my past. A past that included a young lady like Samantha Aldridge, who had asked for something similar to her request. I’d been unfocused and grouchy the rest of the day. Samantha Aldridge was the last person who should have been begging to have a scalpel anywhere near her body. When I walked into the room and saw her sitting there, I’d been confused by her appointment with me. And when the real reason for her being there was revealed, it pissed me off beyond measure. She hadn’t done a very good job of making me understand her reasoning for being there, but now… now I understood all too well. Her husband was a walking douchebag and she was… beautiful. Entirely too good for the likes of that bloody tosser. Her creamy skin glowed in the chandelier lighting, giving her an ethereal quality. Her

long neck stretched elegantly as he whispered something in her ear. She stood, taking his hand, and allowed him to pull her out on the dance floor. She stood out from the rest of the women around her. Her simple, cream-colored dress clung to her thighs before falling freely around her shoes. The rest of the women around her wore dark dresses and were dripping in diamonds, while Mrs. Aldridge only wore a simple, silver necklace and her silky hair pulled into a lose bun. She was exquisite and entirely too beautiful for a man like Michael Aldridge. Her back was to me, his hand resting at her waist, and something keen to jealousy of him moved through my veins. He was obviously a git. He had a graceful woman in his arms, one that deserved to be treated as such, and yet he still stuck his knob in anything barely legal. The music shifted and so did they, allowing me the perfect view of her face. And there she was, the same sad woman who had sat in front of me and begged me to give her something she was probably never going to have with a man like Michael Aldridge. Her beautiful skin was paler than the last time I’d seen her. Her plump lips were pulled down. As if she were minutes away from tears, and her dark bedroom eyes were closed, holding in those tears, no doubt. Again, Michael whispered something in her ear, and I saw her body tense. The bloody bastard was probably saying something rude. It made me hate him even more than I already did. Just as quickly as he pulled her on the dance floor, he pulled away, leaving her standing there, embarrassed and alone. His confident swagger was eyed by envious ladies around him, making it easy for them to miss what was a clear warning to steer clear of the asshole. He made his way to the bar, toward me. He held up his hand, signaling he was ready for another drink, and then he turned, resting his back against the bar and looking out at the dance floor. I couldn’t help myself. “That sure is a lovely lady you were dancing with, Michael. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at an event with her before.” He looked over at me, his expression changing into something dark. “She’s my wife.” The bartender handed him his drink, and he took a quick swig. “Lucky man,” I said with a smile. He chuckled to himself. “Sometimes. Certainly not with that one, but you know what they say—it’s cheaper to keep her.” And then he was gone, strutting across the room, smiling and flirting with any young woman who would give him the time of day, while his wife sat at a table in the corner and kept her tears at bay. Something happened to me in that moment. Maybe it was because I saw something in her eyes that brought back memories of my past. A past that included my mother and her own personal heartbreak and hell with my

father. So many times as a young boy, I’d watched her glistening tears run down her perfect face while my father belittled her. He was a good man. Good to his patients and really good to my sister and me until the day that changed us all, but my mother was never good enough. She died when I was twenty and once we laid her to rest, I’d had enough death and I was sick of my father’s disapproval for my choice of career. “Plastic surgery,” he’d say, “is unneeded.” He said I needed to get into a real profession. Of course, what he really meant was that I should be like him. After my mother’s death, I was on the first plane to America, leaving my father and those bad memories behind me. My father taught me a lot about my profession, but he also taught me that a lady deserved so much more, and Samantha Aldridge was a lady through and through. I could tell by her quiet sadness—her perfect posture and the innocence I wasn’t able to see the day she visited my office. I finished my drink and started across the room to the table with the woman who had asked for my help. She wanted to be beautiful, but what she didn’t realize was that she already was. Gorgeous in fact, but thanks to her husband, she’d lost sight of her selfworth. The young girls around her could flaunt their cleavage and thighs, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination, but Samantha Aldridge was different. She was willowy and graceful, yet full where a grown woman should be. It had been so long since I’d been with a woman in any way. I worked a lot, and never made time for anything else. So just looking at Samantha made my fingers itch to soothe her. When I made it to her table, she kept her head down, not realizing I was standing there. When I cleared my throat, she jumped and looked up at me. Realization of who I was filled her eyes before an embarrassed blush spread across her cheeks. “Dr. Blake…” she started. “Please, call me Roman.” She swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay… Roman,” she whispered. “You’re the last person I expected to see at this kind of thing.” “Back at you, Mrs. Aldridge.” “Call me Samantha, please.” I nodded. “I’ve met your husband a few times. I’m sorry I didn’t put two and two together when we met.” Her laugh was bitter. “You’re probably the only one who can say that.” “If you had mentioned that he was your…” Her eyebrows lifted. “What? You’d have felt sorry for me? Changed your mind?”

“Maybe.” “That’s a lie.” Yes, it was, I thought. “Now we’re even.” I smiled. “We can start over.” A forced smile pushed across her silky, plump lips. “I’d like that.” She lifted her hand and stretched across the table, the top of her dress pulling tightly across her breasts. “I’m Samantha Aldridge. It’s nice to meet you.” I took her hand, tugging firmly. She made a small sound of surprise, but came to her feet gracefully. Her other hand flattened against the top of the table to steady herself, and she looked up at me, confused. “Roman Blake, and you have, in fact, changed my mind, Samantha. I’d like to help you.”



ROMAN BLAKE. Just thinking the man’s name gave me chills and made my thighs flex. And there he was with those intense, dark eyes that were touching parts of me that I’d long forgotten about, and his delicious dimples. His words breezed by me and rushed into the heated air around us, but I wasn’t listening. I was lost in his honeyed eyes, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he saw when he looked at me. Then his words registered, cooling the heated air around us. “Excuse me?” I asked. “You asked me for help. I’d like to help you now,” he said, his tongue bouncing around his mouth with his words, making me clench my thighs together tightly. Help me? He was agreeing to save my marriage. At the thought, my eyes flew to Michael’s, and I was surprised to find him eyeing Dr. Roman and me from across the room. “You’ll do the surgeries?” I asked discreetly from the side of my mouth. My eyes stayed on Michael. I could tell by the lean in his stance that he was about to walk over and investigate. “No.” His abrupt answer warranted a double take from me. My eyes left Michael’s, and I was once again staring into the hot, amber hues that seemed to burn my skin and confuse me. I didn’t understand my reaction to the man across from me. There had been only Michael. I wasn’t used to my responses to someone else. “I don’t understand.” As he leaned in closer to me, his warm breath struck the side of my cheek and the smell of the alcohol on his breath made me feel drunk. “My office. Monday,” he said. Before I could respond, he spun on his heel and strutted across the room, every woman with eyes following his frame the way I was, and then he was gone. I watched through the tinted glass of the front doors as he handed a ticket to the parking attendant and waited. “What the fuck was that about?” Michael’s voice cut into the side of my face. Quickly, I turned my head towards him and blushed. I had no idea what to say. I didn’t want to tell him the truth and embarrass myself further, but I wasn’t one to lie. Actually, I was terrible at it. “Nothing.” The word slipped from my mouth, and I knew it wasn’t going to be a good enough answer.

“Nothing? Come on, Sam, you can do better than that. Was he hitting on you?” He laughed with his question, as if a man like Roman Blake would never waste his time on a woman like me. My body stiffened, and I looked down at the plain tablecloth. “Of course not, Michael.” He placed a warm hand on the back of my neck, his touch reaching through my body to my toes. Leaning in close, he placed a soft kiss on my cheek, and I melted. So long. It had been so long since Michael had given me even the smallest amount of affection. I covered my heated skin where his kiss still lingered with my palm, as if to hold the sensation in. And then he ruined it when he opened his mouth hot against my ear. “I was joking. Of course he wasn’t hitting on you.” It was like a slap to the face. My head popped up to see a few ladies staring at Michael and me, letting me know the soft kiss had been for show. A cold chill moved over me when Michael stepped away and left me alone for the rest of the night. I wanted so badly to leave and go home, but the house I lived in didn’t even feel like home to me. Honestly, it never did. It had always been too big—too cold. Home was where my father was, and he was gone. Home was a place full of love and laughter—a place I felt wanted, and I knew as I watched Michael flirt with a redhead from across the room, that I’d never feel like I was home again. That night I slept in the guest room again. I didn’t even think about whether or not Michael would collect me to come to bed. He didn’t, of course, and I fell asleep with tears on my pillow and a growing ache in my heart. Monday could not come fast enough. On Monday morning, as I drank my latte alone at Starbucks, I worked up the nerve to see Roman. I was intrigued, yet I was still insanely embarrassed. A part of me even considered that maybe he was calling me to his office for an affair. Bouncing the idea around in my mind, I repeatedly wondered whether I’d go through with it if he offered until my cup was dry. I walked out of Starbucks certain that I’d sleep with Roman Blake if it were what he was offering. I deserved it. I’d been with Michael since I was young. He was the only man I’d ever been with and for the last two years, I’d longed for the touch of a man. Not to mention, Michael was running around sleeping with anything that would open their legs for him. It wasn’t like he would care anyway. Maybe I was going about this all wrong. I didn’t have any friends to tell me the way of things in the circles that we lived in, but maybe married couples were supposed to sleep with other people. Maybe I was missing out on something great because I was too worried about making Michael love me again. An hour later, I found myself following behind the pretty nurse I’d met my very first visit as she led me down an entirely different hallway. We stopped at a mahogany door—

the name Dr. Roman Blake embossed deep in the shiny nameplate on the door. The nurse twisted the polished handle and with it, my stomach. She pushed the door open, and I let go of the breath I’d been holding when I realized the room was empty. “Dr. Blake will be right with you,” she said, motioning for me to go ahead without her. “Make yourself comfortable.” Biting my lip, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, I took two steps inside the room. I heard the nurse shift behind me, realizing she was shutting the door. “Thank you,” I managed to call out before she closed the door completely. Flinching at the sound of the click, I tried to breathe normally, hoping to calm my racing heart. I was afraid to move, even the tiniest bit, so making myself comfortable in one of the big, leather chairs in front of the massive wood desk was out of the question. Standing in the middle of the room, I clutched my handbag with both hands against my stomach and slowly turned my head to look around. Pictures of Dr. Roman, and what I assumed were his family, filled empty spaces on the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that lined one side of his office. A couch, two chairs, and a coffee table filled the space in front of the shelves, while his massive desk, filing cabinets, and a multitude of academic degrees littered the other half. Three large windows opened the otherwise dark room with natural light and a breathtaking view of downtown Miami. Buildings, tall and wide, stood in the heated city, shading those who walked the sidewalks beneath them. Palm trees shadowed against the orange sky in the distance was their backdrop. I could feel the heat of the outdoors breaking through the window and basking my cool skin. The pull of the city and all its activity called to me. I found myself pressed against a warm window, looking down at the hustle and bustle. People spilled out of shops and restaurants as the mad dash for a quick bite or a little shopping took hold of the lunch rush. I spotted Mama Maria’s, one of Michael’s and my favorite little restaurants, and smiled. We’d gone there almost every day for a year when we first moved to the city. I’d fallen in love with everything about the place and couldn’t get enough. Sometimes, he’d surprise me at night with takeout, even if we’d eaten it for lunch. If he had ever gotten tired of the place, he never showed it, nor did he complain when I suggested it time after time. I couldn’t remember the last time Michael surprised me with their takeout… or anything for that matter. We were married, living together, and until recently, sleeping in the same bed. But I might as well be invisible for all that Michael noticed me anymore. I was about to turn away, my trip into memory lane hurting too much, when I saw a young couple emerge from Mama Maria’s. They looked no younger than Michael and I had. A long, tan arm wrapped around the girl’s slender shoulders as they came to a stop

right outside. She had something in her hands, and it only took me half a second to realize what she had. Mama Maria’s was famous for her hollowed chocolate balls. They literally melted the second they touched your tongue, filling your mouth with a dark, rich chocolate. That wasn’t what they were famous for, though. Before you ate them, you cracked them open. Inside each one was a note. It wasn’t like a fortune cookie. These notes were special, personal. They gave you hope and made you smile. I watched as the girl read hers, smiling as big as I had when I’d read each and every one of mine. She looked up at the boy, and he kissed the tip of her nose before nuzzling the high curve of her cheekbone. I blinked back tears that not only stung my eyes, but my heart as well. Jealousy made me sick with green, but not in a hateful way. I was happy for them, but sad for myself. I chuckled softly, wiping at my tears, and watched as he spun her in his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he kissed her hard and passionately before dipping her over his arm. She laughed uncontrollably, her head dropping back and her long, dark hair cascading down toward the sidewalk. When he pulled her up, he whispered something into her neck that made her smile sweetly and then run her fingers through his hair. I was so tempted to run downstairs and demand to know what her note said, but I’d probably be arrested or break my leg in my haste. They started to walk away, and I made a small sound of disappointment. Their life was so much better than my own—their passion evident. I didn’t have that. But watching them for that little bit, I’d lived vicariously through them. I didn’t want them to go. Putting my hand on the window, I lifted up onto my tiptoes and tried to follow the retreating couple. Lost in their public display of affection, I felt the cool, but painful smack of glass against my forehead. I brought my hand up to rub my forehead. “Are you okay?” a whispered voice asked from behind me. Startled, I spun around to find Dr. Roman standing there with an amused look on his face. “How long have you been standing there?” I asked as my fingers still tried to rub away the slight sting. “I was about to ask you the same question, Mrs. Aldridge.” “Not long,” I lied, moving away from the window. His eyebrows pulled. “What were you looking at?” He came to stand next to me, looking out of the window. I knew the couple was long gone by now. “You were so transfixed that you didn’t even hear me come in.” “I was just watching. Sometimes, the most ordinary-looking people can be completely

fascinating. Especially when they don’t realize someone is watching them.” “You’re definitely right about that.” His tone caught my attention, and I looked up to find him staring at me. Several seconds passed before he blinked and looked away. “Do you people watch a lot?” “Sometimes. Their lives are far more interesting than mine.” “Things don’t always seem as they appear.” “No, they don’t, but I can make them into anything I want. In my own little world, no one is ever unhappy or sad.” I was looking at his profile, watching the way his jaw moved and the muscles in his neck stretched when he swallowed. He turned to look at me again, and my eyes found his. “I’m glad you decided to come, Mrs. Aldridge.” His formality ruffled my nerves, and I was already nervous enough. I wanted the cool and collected man from the party to come back. “Samantha,” I reminded him and turned to face him. “Honestly?” He nodded and smiled. “Preferably.” Returning it, I cleared my throat. “I almost didn’t. His head tilted slightly to the side. “Why?” I shrugged but pushed the boundaries of my honesty. “I wasn’t really sure what to expect when I walked through the doors.” His expression shifted, saying he didn’t find that to be quite true. “But you came anyway? I flushed, heat filling my cheeks. “Yes.” It was almost a whisper. I knew what he was going to ask next. It was more out of curiosity than bravery that I blurted it out. “I thought you might… that you were going to suggest us… having an affair.” Something about Roman Blake made me feel like I could tell him everything and never have to worry about his reaction. Because silently, I had just told him two things: I was attracted to him, since last night I’d spent a great deal thinking about him, and I was currently entertaining the idea that he was equally or somewhat attracted to me. But he had no reaction to what I’d just told him. Not one that I could figure out anyway. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his white coat, he took a meaningful step toward me. When he closed the distance between us, we were nearly touching. Nearly, but not quite. “When the thought passed, did you decide what you would do?” “I don’t think I could be like Michael… but I want to be happy at the same time. It’s all very confusing.” “Do you think having an affair with me would make you happy, Samantha?”

The sound of his smooth voice saying my name caused goose bumps to cover my skin. “I don’t know. We don’t really know each other. Well, I mean I know all about you…” I was rambling uncontrollably and before I could stop myself, the words were out. When our eyes met, humor was the only thing I could see there. “Got to love Google.” I laughed and twisted my fingers together. “The ironic thing is that I know more about a perfect stranger than I do myself. I don’t know what makes me happy anymore.” “You know your facts about me; you don’t know me, Samantha.” My face burned hotly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” “That didn’t come out the right way.” He smiled gently. “What I mean is, those facts you know about me, they only make up a small part of me. There is more to my story than what you can find on the Internet. And, you may not know you, but I’m fairly certain sleeping with me probably wouldn’t make you happy. At least, not afterwards anyway. You’d feel crappy about what we’d just did, probably about me, but most definitely about yourself.” Turning suddenly, he walked behind his desk and sat down. “I couldn’t live with that, and I wouldn’t want you to have to either,” he finished while moving a stack of papers off his desk and folding his arms on the smooth top. He nodded his head toward the two chairs opposite him and waited for me to take seat. Setting my purse down, I tried not to moan as the expensive leather caressed my ass and the pressure of wearing heels all day was released from my calves and feet. My movements were slow and drawn out as I wondered who was going to break the silence first. His words were still spinning inside my head as I took precious time making myself as comfortable as I could in the chair. He was right though. While it was devious to think about sleeping with someone besides my husband, I didn’t think I had the courage to go through with it unless I fell in love with another. But I knew in my gut that I still loved Michael. As much as I wanted him to just come right out and say it so I didn’t have to ask, I couldn’t be left in suspense any longer. “Last night, you said you changed your mind. Does that mean you’ll do the surgeries?” “It means I want to help you.” I frowned. “If you’re not going to do the surgeries, how are you going to help me?” “I wasn’t lying when I said I make for a very bad therapist, but I really do know women. I’ve seen a lot of perfectly attractive woman go through the doors of my mate, Stein. Unless there is something medically preventing a surgeon from doing a procedure, they will never turn away a patient. The number-one cause for a woman to turn to cosmetic surgery is insecurity. It’s sad, but a fact for any plastic surgery. “Those women, including yourself, just need to be taught and, more importantly, shown that you are each rare and beautiful in your own way. I learned that the hard way and vowed never to touch another woman with a scalpel unless she absolutely needed it.”

His words sparked a flame of curiosity inside of me that quickly became an out-ofcontrol need to know what lesson he was referring to and why it had him disowning his initial practice. “So you want to help me regain my confidence?” As sweet as that sounded, I wasn’t really sure how that was going to work. “Yes. You need to be reminded that you’re very much a woman and deserve to be treated as such.” I shifted nervously in my seat. “Teach me how?” His smile was teasing and knowing. “Despite what you may have thought of my intentions, I don’t plan to offer you an affair. Now or later.” That should have calmed my racing heart, but I couldn’t ignore the tiny bit of disappointment. I tried to tell myself it was because I felt rejected, but I knew it was a little more than that. “Okay, so how do you plan to teach me?” “I want you to spend the next month with me.”



WATCHING THE SURPRISE brighten her big, brown eyes made my long day seem a little less dreary. Why her husband didn’t do everything in his power to bring her soul to life instead of destroying it was beyond my understanding. “Are you quite alright?” I asked when two full minutes went by without either of us saying anything. She blinked rapidly and lowered her head. I realized then that she was laughing. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but that sounded a lot like an indecent proposal. I was waiting for you to offer me a million dollars if I agreed.” “If that’s what it takes.” That wiped all humor from her expression. “You’re kidding, right?” “About you spending a month with me, no. The other part, yes.” I hadn’t been, but if it made her feel better, I would go along with it. Again, she shifted nervously, something she’d done a lot since she sat down. I wasn’t sure if she realized that she was doing it, but I found it amusing. “Are you asking me to stay with you for a month?” I laughed, and she turned a shade of pink. “I assure you I’m not asking you to live with me, but we would be spending a lot of time together. Is that something you’d be comfortable with?” She seemed to be having an inner battle before her face cleared and her final decision clouded her dark eyes. I realized I’d been holding my breath in anticipation. I hadn’t wanted to admit how much I was hoping she’d say yes. “Yes,” she said, looking up. Our eyes clashed. “Yes?” She nodded firmly. “Yes. What have I got to lose, right? You’ve already turned me down for the surgery.” She ended her sentence with a smirk, trying to make light of the other morning. Leaning over my desk, I held eye contact with her. “I’ll make you a deal. You spend the time with me and if after the month you don’t feel any differently about your choice to have the surgery,” I took a deep breath, praying in the confidence I held that I could change her mind, “then I’ll do it.” Sadness darkened her eyes. She looked up at me beneath dark lashes, making me shift in my chair. “Why are you doing this for me, Roman?”

She stuttered over my name, but she said it with such conviction that I couldn’t lie to her. The truth hurt, and I hadn’t felt the sting of my past in a long time. “You remind me of someone. Someone I should have done more to help… but I didn’t.” I could tell she wasn’t sure how to take that, and I was sure she was dying to ask questions. Holding my breath, I hoped she wouldn’t. In the end, she was content with letting me keep my regrets private. “So when do we start?” I smiled, pulled open the drawer in front of me, pulled out my prescription pad, and picked up the pen off my desk. Scribbling across the front of it, I ripped the paper free. Before handing it to her, I got up and walked around the desk to sit on the edge next to her. “Soon, but first, you have to do something for you.” “For me, but why?” “Because you deserve it.” I grinned and handed her the paper and a business card. “Remember, doctor’s orders.”



SERENITY SPA & RESORT. I held the matte, black card with the two words in blue up in the air and matched the front of it to the sign on the building. It wasn’t what I expected, and I was grateful for that. When it came to Miami, it was either go big or go home and when you pictured a spa and resort, it was towering levels, pools the size of small countries, marble floors, and stone walls. While Serenity Spa wasn’t exactly the equivalent to Chucky Cheese, it was modest and felt perfectly… serene. While his procedures were unorthodox, I wasn’t exactly going to complain about Roman’s doctor’s orders. Walking up to the building, I breathed in deep and the sweet waft of jasmine and lavender instantly calmed my senses. Stepping inside was nice and cool compared to the not-so-nice heat of Miami. Music made up from the sharp keys of a piano and wild nature sounds floated through the reception room, recreating an incredibly realistic ambiance of a secret oasis in the middle of a blazing dessert. The wall behind the massive cherry desk was made up of a black, coal-colored rock. The sounds of the water rushing over the rocks made the room even more soothing. The floor-to-ceiling rocks and water wall created the coolest indoor waterfall I’d ever seen. Openings on either side of the wall led to the back room. The sound of birds taking sudden flight from the speakers above had me nearly ducking the same time a petite woman walked around the waterfall and up to the desk. She smiled at me, holding in her laughter. “Don’t worry, it happens to everyone.” Looking from side to side, she curved a hand around her mouth, leaned in close, and whispered, “I think they do it for security entertainment.” We both laughed and her easygoing nature radiated off her, melting my embarrassment. “You’re new,” she said. “Yes. How did you know?” Did I look that stressed? “Most of our customers are regulars, so we can always recognize a new face. We like new faces. What time was your appointment, Ms.…?” She pulled out a clipboard with a list of names filling up the entire page. I bit the inside of my lip and cringed. “Mrs. Aldridge and I’m sorry. I’m afraid I didn’t make an appointment beforehand.” “Mrs. Aldridge,” she said in recognition, making a face like she should have known

exactly who I was when I walked in the door. “Of course. We’ve been expecting you.” “You have?” I looked confused, and she laughed. “Yes. Mr. Blake made sure we were expecting you. If you follow me, Ms. Collette wants to meet you first. She likes to meet all of Mr. Blake’s referrals.” The way she said referrals made me think she had the wrong idea. “Oh, no, I’m not… it’s not like that with Roman, I mean, Dr. Blake and me. We’re,” I searched for the right words, “just friends.” She stopped suddenly and turned on me. “Oh my God, Mrs. Aldridge, I’m sorry. I wasn’t meaning to imply anything.” Gone was the calm, cool, and collected side of the receptionist as her face flushed with embarrassment and wild eyes flew to the door in front of us and then back to me, silently pleading her apologies. “Mary?” a muffled voice called from the other side. “Is that you? Why on earth are you trying to communicate with me through the door?” There was a short pause and then the door flew open. “Why am I trying to communicate through the door?” An older woman, dressed in a silk-and-lace modern pantsuit with a knot of silver hair on the top of her head, stood in the doorway. Her eyes found mine, and she pulled her cashmere sweater closed. “You must be Mrs. Aldridge.” “Yes, Ms. Collette, she is.” The beautifully antique woman before me made me want to deny my married name and turn around and run. Suddenly, I thought I knew why Mary was so afraid I might say something. I lifted my hand. “Yes, but please, call me…” “Samantha,” she said with almost no emotion. “A pretty name indeed.” I swallowed hard. “Yes,” and then my faced burned hotly, “and thank you.” If she turned me away right now, I wouldn’t even blame her. “I feel a bit embarrassed that everyone seems to know who I am, and I don’t know… I mean Roman, Dr. Blake, didn’t mention… anyone. Specific,” I added quickly. She seemed to be inspecting me. Part of me was tempted to grab Mary by the shoulders and use her as a human shield… but then Ms. Collette did something completely unexpected. She smiled… and I watched while her face transformed. “Yes, my grandson is a fickle young man like that. But over exaggerative he is not.” I frowned, confused, and then the first part of what she said registered. “You and Roman… I’m sorry. He didn’t tell me you two were related. Honestly, he didn’t really tell me anything about this place.” “That doesn’t surprise me one bit,” Mary said. “Mr. Blake and Ms. Collette are modest

in their achievements. Ms. Collette owns this entire establishment.” “Nonsense,” Ms. Collette chided with affection. “I was merely taught it isn’t proper to discuss such things in public.” She was motioning for me to follow her. “Come, come. Thank you, Mary.” I nearly fell over, trying to catch Mary’s attention before she disappeared back to the front. “Thank you, Mary,” I called after her. When she turned to look at me, I smiled reassuringly. She almost fell over in relief. “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Aldridge.” “You too.” I was tempted to mouth if it was okay to follow Collette, but she turned away before I could. Inside Ms. Collette’s office, I was wrapped in complete femininity. Soft colors and frilly décor inspired the room, setting it apart from the serene theme on the other side of the door. “Mary is a sweet girl, often speaking without thinking, but she means no harm.” Ms. Collette sat down behind her desk. Suddenly feeling like Ms. Collette had eyes and ears everywhere, I worried about Mary. “She seems very sweet and made me feel right at home here. This is a lovely office by the way. The whole place is amazing. You’ve done a remarkable job with the design.” “Thank you. So tell me how you met my grandson. You don’t look like you’re one of Stein’s patients.” I didn’t miss the way she crinkled her nose at Roman’s partner’s name or his choice of practice. Flushing, I wondered how she would feel if she knew that I had practically begged Roman to do the very things she turned her nose up at. “No, I’m not one of Dr. Stein’s patients.” “Good.” She fell back against her chair. “He’d be a stupid man to try and mess with a face or body like yours.” Well played, Roman Blake. Send in your sweet grandmother with compliments and intimidation. Well played, indeed. “Thanks, ma’am.” She waved a wrinkled hand in front of her face. “Please, call me Collette.” I smiled. “You don’t sound…” “British? I’m not. I was born here in Miami. Roman’s mother, my daughter, met the man she said she was destined to marry during a summer vacation trip to Oxford.” I could hear it in the way she talked about Roman’s father that he wasn’t exactly Collette’s first choice for her daughter’s happily ever after. “That sounds romantic.” She smirked. “That’s exactly what Elizabeth said,” she said, sighing.

“You thought it was cliché?” “Actually, yes, I did. She was too young to give up everything she did for a boy, but she did. Because of that choice, she gave me Roman and Rachel, so I could never be upset with her for that.” “Roman has a sister? Do she and their parents still live in London?” Her eyes narrowed curiously. “You really haven’t known Roman very long, have you?” I let out a nervous laugh. “Not at all, but I’m happy I met him.” “You know, you just might be exactly what my stubborn grandson needs.” I flushed. “Oh, no, it’s not like that. I’m…” “Married? So I’ve heard. Roman also said it wasn’t like that between the two of you, but I know my grandson.” Instead of elaborating, she stared at me intently for a couple of more seconds. “Well,” she finally said. Taking a deep breath, she used the surface of her desk to stand. “I won’t keep you any longer, dear. You didn’t come to my spa to talk to an old woman.” “Don’t be silly. I’ve enjoyed our conversation. Maybe we could have lunch sometime?” She smiled. “I’d like that. You looked just about as knotted as a raggedy old shoestring when you came in, and I think I might have made it worse.” We walked to the door of her office together before she stepped in front of me to pull it open. “I promise that it has nothing to do with you.” “Well, either way, my staff will make you feel like a brand-new woman. Marcus will take very good care of you.” It turned out that Collette was not an exaggerator either. Twenty minutes later, I was sprawled, facedown, with only a towel to cover me as Marcus indeed took good care of me. I spent the first twenty minutes of my massage trying to cover things that I was ashamed of, but once his capable hands released the stress that held my muscles bunched tightly, I no longer cared what he saw or thought. A deep cleansing facial with botanical herbs and purifying oils took care of months’ worth of dead skin. A mani and pedi made my hands and feet presentable for a night on the town. After a quick, but yummy, lunch, I was ready for my hair appointment. Four hours of complete pampering, a sassy new haircut, and some highlights later, I was on my way with a promise to have lunch very soon with Collette. I didn’t feel like a completely new woman, but I knew it was a start in the right direction.



Pulling into the parking lot of Georgina’s, I cut the engine and inhaled the smell of Italian food. It wasn’t Mama Maria’s, but it was the second best thing and I was starving. Picking up the doctor’s note Roman had given me, I stared at the second thing he’d prescribed. Written in his actually quite legible doctor’s scribble was, lunch with a friend. Lunch with a friend sounded lovely. The only problem was that I had no friends. I wanted to actually enjoy myself, and I knew if I invited one of the country club wives, I’d be too nervous and ready to leave as soon as I could. So content with spending the day by myself, I made reservations, taking the time to dress up and do my hair and makeup before leaving. I loved my new hairstyle, and I’d even learned a few makeup tips from, Gina, the cosmetologist at Serenity Spa. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone but myself. I wanted to forget everything going on at home like Roman had said to do, and I wanted to go have some me time. “A table for one for Aldridge,” I said to the hostess when I walked up to the podium on the outdoor patio. She nodded and smiled as she grabbed a menu. “Right this way,” she said, getting ready to lead me inside, but a quick glance around had me stopping her. “Actually, do you think I could sit out here? It’s a beautiful day.” She smiled and nodded. “Of course.” “Thank you.” I followed behind her as we weaved through the outside tables. She stopped at a table for two next to a small garden. “Is this okay?” I inhaled the sweet smell of multi-colored blooms and peeled my jacket from my body. “This is perfect,” I said, sitting down. “Great. Your server will be right with you.” “Thank you.” I smiled up at her as she handed me a menu. I was accustomed to going to Starbucks alone, but never out to eat. My uncomfortableness prompted me to eat outside where there were less curious stares in my direction wondering why I was unworthy of someone else’s company. Swallowing hard, I ignored the few eyes that I felt pelting me like a hailstorm and let my eyes move over the menu. Instead of deciding on my meal, I sat there, wondering when eating alone had become taboo in the eyes of those who had someone at their table. Why could I not enjoy a lunch

by myself without being judged? Lost in my own little world, I barely heard my name being called next to me. “Samantha?” Roman’s voice moved over me, leaving chills in its wake. I looked up to find him and two other men standing just on the other side of the iron gate that lined the patio seating. He was dressed in slacks and a solid color T-shirt, and I almost didn’t recognize him outside of his white coat and teal scrubs. He towered over me, a grin transforming his lips into something I couldn’t quite name, but it made my stomach tighten slightly and I wrote it off as nerves. I realized I was just sitting there while three pair of eyes stared at me, waiting for me to do something, anything. “Roman,” I finally blurted. “What a nice surprise.” I smiled. “How are you?” he asked as if we hadn’t seen each other in years rather than days. “I’m great. Just following doctor’s orders.” I gestured to my table. His eyes moved to the empty seat across from me before clashing with mine again. “Are you alone?” he asked. I nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes.” I knew my face was on fire while I tried to focus only on Roman, who seemed to forget he hadn’t arrived here alone. The two other men stared at me like I’d just arrived on a spaceship from another planet. As if realizing for the first time that he wasn’t alone, Roman turned toward the two men. “I’m sorry. Rick, Jerry, this is Samantha Aldridge. Samantha, these are two of my colleagues.” “It’s very nice to meet you two.” “Aldridge? As in Michael Aldridge?” the one named Rick asked. He was the shorter of the three men, and possibly the youngest. I smiled, and there was a source of pride behind it. I’d always felt it whenever someone recognized Michael and his accomplishments, for all the hard work he done to get where he was. It made me feel proud to be his wife, the one who had stood by him for all those years and the one who still stood here. But now, with that feeling also came the humiliation that they knew everything I was standing by. “Yes. That’s my husband.” “He’s a good man. A damn hard worker, too.” The older man, Jerry, smiled at me. He didn’t seem to know my husband’s history, so there was no added sympathy in his smile. “But I always say that behind every hardworking man is a damn good woman.” I was sure that I’d never smiled so big in my entire life. Jerry didn’t realize the strength it took not to get up and kiss him for his words or how much I desperately needed to hear them.

“I will definitely be sure to tell him that.” They all laughed, although Roman’s didn’t seem as genuine. “Why don’t you gentlemen go on in and get a table? I’ll be right in,” Roman said to his colleagues. When the hostess took the others inside, Roman turned toward me once they were out of view. I flushed as he gave me a complete once over. “I like the new look.” His eyes moved past my chin and slowly over my neck and chest before his eyes clashed with mine again. “Thank you. It was much needed. When I went to pay for my day at the spa, the bill had already been taken care of. Please let me…” “No,” he said sternly. I bit my lip, wanting to argue, but the way he said the one word made me think twice about arguing with him. “So the ladies there took good care of you?” he asked, changing the subject. “Well, it was actually the hands of Marcus, but yes, everyone there took very good care of me.” “Ahh, yes, Marcus. I forgot he still worked there.” I knew I was being silly thinking I heard a trace of jealously there, but I let myself enjoy the feeling even if I knew it wasn’t true. “Kind of like you forgot to mention your grandmother owns the spa.” “Guilty. She didn’t drill you with inappropriate questions, did she? She forgets to mind her own business when it comes to my love life or lack thereof.” “She was lovely. In fact, we made plans to have lunch.” He groaned. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” I laughed. “Honestly, she was perfect.” “Sounds like the making of a friendship.” I nodded. “I hope so.” “And if memory serves me correctly, isn’t there supposed to be a friend involved here?” He moved his fingers, gesturing toward my table, and his eyebrows lifted as he stared down at me knowingly. “Yes, I suppose there is, but that’s where the problems lies.” Without asking if he could join me, he moved around the gate and slid into the seat across from me. “And what problem is that?” A small smirk moved across his thick lips. I took a deep breath. “Well, I don’t really have any friends. As sad as that sounds, I can be honest.” His smirked instantly transformed, his brows pulling in, and a look of sorrow transformed his face.

“It’s okay,” I said with a fake smile and an even bigger phony front. My hands fell into my lap, but I sat up a little bit taller and avoided his sympathy. “Trust me, I’d much rather enjoy my time alone than be here with one of the stuck-up ladies I’ve had some of the most unfortunate luck to meet.” With a genuine smile, I looked up at him, the sun warming my face. The sorrow dissolved and was replaced with another sweet smile. “On that I can agree.” We both laughed. Moving my hand to the menu, I fingered the corner of the leatherbound book. As much as I tried to tell myself that I was content having lunch by myself, I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed Roman’s company. He was easy to talk to and probably the first real friend I’d had in a while. He was handsome, yes, and though I’d embarrassed myself entertaining the idea of an affair with him, I told myself I needed him much more as a friend than anything else. I was in love with my husband, and the comfort of Roman’s arms in a one-night stand wasn’t going to change that. It also wasn’t fair to treat Roman that way after everything he was doing for me. “I don’t want to keep you,” I finally said. “You actually do have friends to get back to.” I hadn’t meant for it too sound so depressing. “That was meant to be a joke.” “Jerry seems to be a friend of your husband’s, as well.” “Michael can be very charming when he wants to be. He doesn’t have many enemies.” A strange expression moved across his face, one that tightened his lips and pulled at his brow. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. “Do you mind if I join you?” he asked suddenly, pulling out his phone and moving his fingers over the screen. I was caught by surprise at his question, and it took me a minute to get my voice to work. “But what about—” “I just texted Jerry,” he said, holding his phone up for me to see. He smiled then, setting it on the table and leaning back in the chair. “Looks like you’re stuck with me now.” That wasn’t how I saw it, but I knew he was teasing me. Matching his smile, I leaned forward. “I could think of worse things.” His eyes roamed over my face quickly before he looked away. Every time he looked at me, I felt as if he were seeing someone that didn’t exist—a woman with much more to offer. I felt like he saw the woman I wanted to be, and I liked it. Lifting our menus, we skimmed our choices. As I looked over the many options, I couldn’t help but feel happy. Things were turning around for me. I was feeling better and looking better. Roman had done so much for me already, and we were just getting started.

“Samantha?” Roman’s voice moved across the table and sent chills up my arms. When I glanced up, Roman was still looking at his menu, making me wonder if I’d actually heard him call my name. Then his eyes met mine. “Me.” He said the simple word. His voice deep and stern as if he was making an important point. “You have me. As a friend.”



THE FOLLOWING DAY, Samantha entered my office looking like a new woman. It wasn’t just the new hairstyle, the way the light radiated off her blonde strands or the light makeup she’d applied—it was the way she carried herself. Her shoulders weren’t so tense. Her posture was better—her head held higher, and she was glowing. Her smile rivaled the sunlight that spilled through the windows of my office and, once again, I caught myself staring at her and getting caught up with how beautiful she was. It was as if she were realizing her beauty—blooming right in front of my eyes. Quickly, I rifled through some papers on my desk and cleared my throat. Anything I could do to keep my eyes off her. “I didn’t get a chance to ask you yesterday at lunch, but did you enjoy your time at the spa?” I asked. Then the memory of our entire conversation about the spa entered my mind. I felt myself flush, which was something I didn’t do often. Her tiny laugh was the cure for my embarrassment and the bad day I’d been having. The stress of my caseloads lifted from my chest, allowing me to breathe for the first time all day. Instead of stating the obvious, which was we’d already discussed the spa, she answered my question. “Very much so. I had no idea how badly I needed to relax. Thank you.” My grin matched hers. I felt stupid when I realized how big my smile was. “You’re very welcome.” If I had thought she was beautiful before, she was exquisite with a smile on her face. Her eyes sparkled when she looked at me and, briefly, I lost my next breath. I turned away and took my seat. “So, shall we move on to step three?” I asked. Again, she giggled. “Wait. There are steps now?” She ran her hands through her long waves like she knew it was getting my attention. It was then that I noticed her nails were painted a soft pink. Quickly, a flash of her pink-painted fingertips on my skin rushed through my mind before I shook it away. “What is this—Project Samantha?” she asked. A beautiful name for a stunning woman. I’d relished in the fact that we were on a firstname basis. It made doing something so personal with her less stressful. Getting beneath someone’s skin and finding out what makes them tick was very personal. “No. This is definitely not Project Samantha.” I couldn’t keep the smile out of my words. “Let’s just say this is a different kind of procedure. One that might be better than anything I can do with my scalpel.” “Okay then. Let’s proceed with the procedure,” she mocked. I liked this side of her—a playful side—one that didn’t look like she was seconds

away from bawling her eyes out. I was seeing a different person already, and we’d only just begun. By the time I was done with her, Michael Aldridge would be eating out of her hand. “Alright then. Let’s get out of here. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Confusion filled her eyes, but she grabbed her purse and followed behind me as I moved to leave. Opening the door, I stepped to the side to let her go before me. The man in me looked down and watched her walk down the hall in front of me before the professional kicked in, and I forced myself to look away. The heat of Miami burned the side of my face when we exited the building. Squinting against the sun, I slid on my shades and pressed the unlock button on my keys. The lights flickered and a tiny beep sounded from my car, which I kept parked on the side of the building. “Yours?” she asked. “Mine,” I said, opening the passenger’s door for her. She smiled at me as if something as innocent as opening a car door for her had never happened. Again, hate for Michael Aldridge reared its ugly head. Once I got comfortable in the driver’s seat and cranked up the car, she latched her seat belt and turned to face me. Excitement filled her eyes, making her look younger than her thirty years. She was practically bouncing in her seat. “Where are we going?” she asked. Amused, I put the car in drive and pulled away from the parking space. “You’ll find out soon enough.” On the ride, she moved around anxiously in the passenger’s seat, pouting because I refused to tell her where we were going. She looked over at me, confused when we pulled up to St. Vincent’s Medical, the children’s hospital I spent a good bit of my time at. “No questions. Just go with it,” I reminded her. She grinned over at me and nodded her understanding. I could see the light of exhilaration in her eyes, and I was happy that I’d put it there. Parking in my spot, I put my car in neutral and pulled up the parking brake. “I never learned how to drive a stick shift,” she said as she watched me park the car. “Maybe that’s something you could add to your bucket list,” I said. She smiled. “I never thought to make a bucket list.” Turning to peek at me, she asked, “Do you have one?” “Yes. You should start one.” “Maybe I will,” she said before climbing from my car and shutting the door behind

her. The smell of her soft perfume wafted through and I breathed it in deeply before climbing from my car, as well. She walked a few steps behind me, following me towards the elevator. I didn’t like the fact that she felt the need to walk behind me rather than next to me. I knew some other men probably wouldn’t have noticed. It was obvious that Michael didn’t, but I did. She needed to learn to walk with me, not behind me. Hopefully, she would go home and do the same with Michael. If she viewed herself as his equal, then he would soon begin to see her as his equal, as well. Slowing my pace, we evened out, walking next to each other. She noticed and with hesitation, she looked over at me, a slight crease in her brow. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” I teased. She frowned. “What?” “You walk behind me like you don’t want anyone to know we’re together.” Despite the seriousness of my question, I left my smile in place. She laughed. “Of course not. I just walk slowly. Michael is always telling me how sluggish I walk.” She made a sound that was meant to resemble a giggle. “But when I walk too fast, he wants to know what my hurry is. Men.” She shook her head. Her eyes were teasing when she grinned up at me, but I didn’t like that she categorized Michael’s insensitivity as a general trait we all had. When I wrapped my fingers around her arm, her soft skin was warm under my palm. We moved together, same pace, same path—equal. “You don’t walk too slowly or too fast, Samantha, and you deserve to stand next to the person you’re with without them leaving you behind.” We reached the elevator doors. I pushed the up button, and it lit up as we waited for the doors to open. She stood quietly beside me, our shoulders brushing against each other briefly, and I could feel her warmth. I stared at her reflection in the steel elevator doors until they opened, splitting our images apart. We stepped into the empty elevator, and I was quick to push the button before anyone could join us. I knew Samantha wasn’t finished with our conversation, and I wanted her to be able to say what she needed to say. The doors seemed to shut in super slow motion, but they closed before anyone could join us. I sighed in relief as I waited for Samantha to say something. “I always feel like I embarrass Michael because I don’t behave the way the others wives do. Michael’s never been the touchy-feely kind, but he used to hold my hand and wait for me. Somewhere along the line, that all stopped. I guess I wasn’t good enough anymore.” The elevator came to a halt and, whether I wanted them to or not, the doors opened. I

moved between the doors, keeping them from closing, and looked Samantha in the face. “Not all men are like that, Samantha. I’m not like that. I want you next to me, not behind me. I’ll always wait for you, okay?” A slow smile stretched her lips. “Okay.” Smiling, I moved aside and she walked ahead of me, waiting until I walked with her toward the nurse’s station. We were on the seventh floor of the hospital—the burn unit. As always, there were four nurses at the front desk and each of them had their hands full. I knew most of them, and each one of them worked day and night to take care of the kids. The nurses were their hope, their strength, their laughter, and most importantly, the keepers of chocolate pudding and ice cream. I smiled at my favorite nurse, Linda, as I leaned on the counter and winked at her. “Dr. Blake, how nice to see you today. The kids are going to be very happy to see you,” she said as she pulled out three files and handed them over. “The feeling is utterly mutual,” I said as I flipped through the files and took in the information that the night nurses had penned in. “I think Tori asked me at least thirty times if you were coming in today. She’s excited for you to meet the newbie.” Linda raised her eyes at me and gave me the look. “What’s his name?” She laughed. “David. David Reynolds.” And then her expression shifted, and she looked sad. “After last night, I’m glad she met David today. That poor girl needed a good day.” “Thanks, Linda. I’m glad you were the one with her last night.” Leaning in close and looking around to make sure no one was in hearing distance, I whispered. “You know you’re our number one, right?” I smiled as a heated blush flushed the older woman’s cheeks. Picking up a few files on the counter, she pretended to busy herself with them. “I’m sure you say that to all the nurses, Dr. Roman.” I heard Samantha laugh next to me and couldn’t control my grin as I turned to face her. “Are you taking her side?” I teased her. She held her hands up in the air. “I’m merely an outsider, looking in.” “Uh-huh. Linda, this is Samantha Aldridge. Samantha, this is Linda. My favorite nurse.” Linda and Samantha both laughed, shaking hands. They began to talk while I looked over Tori’s file. Apparently, Tori had a rough night and needed extra pain medicine. It hurt my heart to read that part.

I could feel Samantha’s stare on my profile as I read each file thoroughly. When I turned to face her, she was caught staring, and a sweet pink blush covered her cheeks. I loved that she even though she was a married woman, she still had enough innocence to blush. It was an extremely attractive trait. “Thanks, Linda,” I said when the women’s conversation came to halt. “Don’t tell them I’m here. I’d like to surprise them.” Turning away, I said, “Come on. There are some amazing people I want you to meet.” I headed down the hall to Tori’s room first. Her heels bumped softly against the carpeted hallway, and the soft smell of her perfume whispered across my cheek. I could feel her body heat on my side. She was that close. I liked it. I stopped suddenly at Tori’s door. Samantha wasn’t paying attention and walked into my side, igniting something searing inside of me. “Alright?” I asked. Shyly tucking a stray hair behind her ear, she smiled up at me and nodded. I longed to touch her hair the way she had. To run my fingers through her blonde strands of softness before bringing it to my nose and smelling the locks. Her shampoo smelled amazing. I’d gotten a few whiffs once when she adjusted the long strands beside me. It was an aphrodisiac. Again, I had to shake myself and adjust my way of thinking. Tori’s face lit up when I stepped through the door, and I couldn’t keep the cheeksplitting smile from my face. The young girl had become so special to me. Just seeing her made my day. It was even better on days when she smiled. “Dr. Roman!” she called out from her hospital bed. Her face was healing nicely, the burns still noticeable, but the new skin I’d grafted blending quite nicely. She would need more surgeries, but still, even with most of her face covered in burns, she was such a beautiful young girl. “Tori!” I called back, sounding as excited as she did. “How are you feeling today, love?” I asked, reaching out to ruffle the soft hair she’d grown back since the fire. “I’m okay,” she said. And then her face dropped, breaking my heart and making me feel as if my stomach had bottomed out. “Tell me. What is it?” I asked. “He never came.” He being her father, who had suddenly found it difficult to show up and visit his daughter. Her mother was here on a daily basis, but her father, I’d only seen him once or twice. “I’m sure he’s just busy, Tori,” I said, sorrow lacing my voice.

Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out a new clamshell and sat it on her bed. Her downcast eyes brightened, and she smiled up at me. “You brought me another. Thank you so much, Dr. Roman.” She stood slowly from her bed and limped across the room to the table where all the seashells I’d brought her rested. She’d told me once in the beginning that she wanted to be beautiful like a mermaid. I’d told her she was already more beautiful than a mermaid and since then, I’d brought her a new seashell every time I visited her. I found myself on the beaches of Miami, searching the sand for an unbroken shell that was perfect enough for such a sweet little girl. I’d ruined two pairs of high-priced shoes in the search, but she was worth every cent I’d paid. On the way back to her bed, her eyes landed on Samantha, who was standing in the doorway. I watched as her self-confidence deflated, and she put her head down as if to cover her burn scars. “How rude of me. Tori, this is my very good friend, Samantha.” I motioned for Samantha to come into the room. “Samantha, meet Tori the mermaid, also known as one of my favorite patients.” Tori’s face lit up at my words, and she climbed back in her bed. Suddenly, I was worried that I’d overestimated Samantha. What if she was as low as the circles she ran in? What if she took one look at Tori and her burns, and her disgust showed on her face? I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to look at her again, much less help her, if she showed Tori anything less than the kindness she deserved. Samantha moved into the room, a light sheen to her eyes as if she were about to cry, and then she smiled. “Hello, Mermaid Tori. Am I to assume that your fins and tail only appear when you’re in the ocean?” she asked playfully Tori giggled loudly, sounding every bit the eight-year-old she was, and something inside me shifted. I moved to the side and watched as Samantha sat in the chair beside Tori’s bed, playing and laughing with her. Not once did her eyes betray her. Not once did I catch her looking overly long at Tori’s skin. It was as if she hadn’t seen her scars and burns at all, and I couldn’t help but appreciate her even more. When it was time to leave, she leaned in and hugged Tori. A smile tugged her lips as she bent and whispered something in Tori’s ear that made the little girl light up even more. “It was great meeting you, Tori. Try not to give the doc a hard time when I’m not around.” She smirked over at me. I smiled, rustled Tori’s hair once again, and told her I’d see her soon. We visited two more of my patients. A six-year-old named Logan, who had chemical burns across his stomach. He was the product of an extreme case of child abuse. And Bailey, who had lost half of her eyesight and face in an apartment fire. She was also quite possibly the smartest ten-year-old girl I’d ever had the privilege to meet.

Through all the meetings, Samantha was sweet to each child. She talked to them as if they weren’t in the burn unit of a children’s hospital, but as if they were just normal, fun children. She’d batted her lashes at Logan when he called her pretty and had even given Bailey a tiny makeup lesson with some pink eye shadow the girl had in her room to play with. She was amazing. Seeing just how truly amazing was eye opening. I’d help her no matter what it took. I’d help her even knowing that the man she was doing everything for was a worthless wanker, who wasn’t fit to kiss her toes. I opened her car door for her when we left the hospital, and she smiled up me after climbing in. Her smile was contagious and after seeing her with the kids, I couldn’t help but want to hug her. After I put on my seat belt and cranked the car, she turned toward me and captured my attention. The excitement in her eyes was something I’d pay money to see every day. I shook my head. “You’re something else, you know that?” “I am?” Her smile dropped and confusion tilted her brows. “The funny thing is that you don’t realize how wonderful you are, Samantha Aldridge.” The car got quiet, and her eyes moved over my face as if checking to see if I was joking with her. Feeling confident that I was indeed being serious, she reached out, playfully patted my arm, and smiled before turning and hooking her seat belt. Quickly changing the subject, she smoothed her hair down behind her shoulder and turned to me again. “So what next, Doc?” she asked spiritedly. I chuckled to myself as I pulled into traffic. “I’m glad you asked. Ever owned a pet?” I asked.



I’D NEVER SEEN anything more beautiful than the way Roman handled the children at the hospital. Even with burns on more than fifty percent of their bodies, they were still able to smile and play happily. I felt low—lower than low, actually. Just days before, I was practically begging Roman to change my perfectly fine face, while there were beautiful young girls and boys who would never look the same again. Roman taking me to the hospital to meet his young patients had taught me something about myself that I never knew before. I was selfish. Sitting in silence in the seat next to him, I thought about all the things I’d wanted to change about myself. I felt stupid and naïve. I decided in that moment that regardless of what happened with Roman’s “procedure,” I’d opt out of the cosmetic surgery. I didn’t need it. The children at the hospital did. I was beginning to understand Roman and his reasons for reconstructive surgery over cosmetic. “A penny for your thoughts?” Roman asked from the driver’s seat. “Thank you for taking me there,” I said. I didn’t need to explain why I was thanking him. He looked over at me and nodded his understanding. “Thank you,” he countered. “For what? I didn’t do anything.” “You did more than you realize. You talked to them. You were playful, and not once did I see disgust in your eyes. Not once did you stare. They needed that.” I was confused by his words. Why would anyone be disgusted by children? “They’re just kids, and there was nothing disgusting about any of them.” And then Roman surprised me as he reached over and grabbed my hand. As he squeezed it softly in his large, warm palm, a sense of euphoria moved through me. The warmth from his hand moved up my wrist until my arm was hot and my body was becoming flushed. I’d never experienced anything like it over something as simple as someone grabbing my hand. As soon as it happened, he released my hand and turned his eyes to the road once more. He was totally unfazed by the touch, but I felt like I was coming apart at the seams. It was confusing for me, but I chocked it up to not being touched much for so long. The town became familiar as we moved down several streets. The buildings changed in size, and the sidewalks became full of people in the rush of daily life. Finally, he parked in front of a building and began to unbuckle his seat belt. Looking up at the sign, I smiled. “Miami Animal Shelter?” I asked, confused.

Why in the world would he be taking me to the animal shelter? Did he also help animals? A wide smile curved Roman’s lips. “Follow me.” There were rows upon rows of animals in need of adoption. When I stuck my finger in one of the cages, a tiny, black kitten batted at my finger cutely from its back. I cooed down at it, sure I’d never seen anything sweeter. Roman stood at my side and watched me as if I were part of an exhibit. He stood, hands latched behind his back, as I went from cage to cage admiring the animals. He didn’t speak, but just his presence was calming. In the last few hours, I’d learned that Roman made me feel womanly and admired. Even something as small as holding my car door for me—it made my day. We moved toward the dogs, the sound of puppies barking and the distinct smell of dog filling the air. I didn’t mind it. In fact, it was something I’d never known. I’d never owned a pet. My dad was allergic and Michael said they were repulsive creatures, but I could understand why people wanted them. They were playful, and I had to admit having someone other than Michael to go home to sounded lovely. The ladies of the shelter didn’t take their eyes off Roman. He moved around the room, looking at each animal and occasionally smiling over at me as if I were crazy for talking to the animals as if they understood me. I knew what the ladies saw because I say it, too. I was married—I wasn’t blind. Roman was beautiful—not just in the way he looked, but in the way he looked at people. It was hard to keep your eyes off him. As I moved around the room, my eyes landed on big, black dog. He was scruffy and way too big for the cage he was in. His fur hung from his lanky form, and I was sure he was in need a hot, soapy bath, but something about his eyes reminded me of Roman’s. They were caramel colored and kind. When I stepped up to his cage, he lowered his head in a skittish manner and gave my fingertips a quick lick before he moved toward the back of his cage. He seemed afraid and battered, as if he was a kindred spirit to my own. I understood his need to retreat—his need for affection, but his fear of trying to get it. “It’s okay,” I said softly as I kneeled down to his cage. His big, friendly eyes looked up at me and, again, he moved forward a bit to give my hand a quick lick. “I think he likes you,” Roman said from my side. “I like him, too,” I said with a smile. “He reminds me of you.” The words left my mouth before I realized how terrible it sounded. “Are you comparing me to a dog?” Roman asked, but I could hear the smile in his voice from above where I knelt. “What I mean is that he’s friendly. His eyes are light and friendly like yours. I could feel safe being around him.” I kept my head down, showering the big dog with the

attention I was sure he needed. He wasn’t the cutest animal in the shelter, and I was sure no one could tell me what kind of dog he was. There were patches of hair missing along his hind legs, and it looked as if someone might have had something evil around his neck at some point, but still, I couldn’t take my eyes off his. He was just a big, sweet dog in need of affection, and I understood him. “Do you want him?” Roman asked from above me. “I think I do.” And just like that, Roman made him mine. After all the paperwork and a long hour of waiting for them to bring the dog around, I was surprised that Roman was totally okay with putting the giant, stinky dog in the back of his expensive and sleek sports car. Duke, as I so sweetly named him, took up the entire backseat and had a serious problem with gas. The ride back to Roman’s office was spent laughing with the windows down. “COME ON IN, DUKE. Make yourself at home, but don’t get too comfortable on the floor anywhere,” I said with a smile as I ushered my new pet into the house. The last thing I wanted was for him to leave any smelly surprises anywhere. I wasn’t positive he was house trained, but I’d stopped by the local pet store and got him everything he needed, along with a few pamphlets on house training an older dog. I spent the rest of the afternoon with Duke. I gave him a bath and fed him, before taking him to the backyard so he could get acquainted with his new home. He was shy and sheepish at first, but he soon caught a squirrel in his sight and took off across the backyard, barking and jumping with pure happiness. I’d saved him from what I was sure was an impending death at the shelter, and it felt good. I smiled to myself as I thought about the day I’d had with Roman. I thought about how he was with the children at the hospital and how he’d played with a tiny puppy at the shelter, but had stopped immediately as if he were too manly for such an act when he caught me looking at him. He really was a special man, and the lady who finally caught him was sure to be one lucky girl. “Duke!” I called out when I was ready to go back inside. “Come on, boy!” He turned as if he knew his name already and ran back toward me, ears flapping and tongue hanging out. When he reached me, he ran his wet nose into my palm before giving it a quick lick. Leaning down, I ran my fingers through his short fur and gave him a nice petting behind his ears.

“What the fuck is that?” Michael said behind me, breaking the moment of happiness, and making both Duke and me tense. Duke growled softly at my side as if he was already my great protector, and I reached down and soothed the top of his head. “I… um…” I stuttered. “Where did that vile thing come from?” Michael asked. “I got him from the Miami Animal Shelter. He’s just a big, old sweetheart,” I said as if I were talking to a baby. Bending over, I gathered Duke’s face in my palms and burrowed my fingers in his fur. “Take him back,” Michael demanded. “I don’t want some big, ugly mutt smelling up the house.” He could be rude to me all he wanted, I was used to him, but being mean to an innocent animal didn’t sit well with me. Standing, I wiped at my pants and blew the hair from my face. “I’m not,” I said strongly. Michael’s face transformed. His lips tightened and his eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?” “I said… I’m not taking him back. He’s mine.” I took a step forward. “You leave me alone in this house that’s too big for two people while you go off doing God knows what, and I’m sick of it. He’s here to keep me company. He stays,” I said sternly. Michael looked at me as if I were someone he’d never seen before he turned on his heel and went back into the house. I didn’t miss his words when he called out through the house, “Fine! Maybe he’ll fuck you!” before the front door slammed and Duke and I were alone again.



I DIDN’T SEE Michael for the rest of the afternoon, and he didn’t come home that night. It was different this time, though. Instead of sitting up all night and wondering what or who Michael was out doing, I went to bed without a care. Staying in the house alone wasn’t terrible for once since Duke decided to take up residence on the floor at the foot of my bed. I watched television before falling into a peaceful sleep. The following morning, I took Duke outside to handle his business and we sat together in the kitchen and had breakfast. I wasn’t delusional, I understood Duke was a dog, but I had to admit that it was nice not being alone. The way he looked up at me with a smile was enough for me. It was around nine in the morning when I received a call from Roman’s office. It was the pretty nurse that always ushered me to Roman’s office. I knew this because her voice was familiar, and I’d gotten to know her name, Melanie, since going to the office. “Mrs. Aldridge, Dr. Blake would like you to meet him at David T. Kennedy Park at ten. I’m supposed to call him back and let him know if you’re available.” I smiled secretly to myself. Roman had somehow became a friend, and I was excited to spend time with him again. It was like I was able to step away from my life and just be myself. Roman didn’t judge. He didn’t look at me as if I was the most disgusting person alive, and that was exactly what I needed. “Please let Dr. Blake know I’ll be there.” “Perfect. He also requested that you dress comfortably.” “I can do that. Thanks so much.” I smiled into the phone. “Mrs. Aldridge?” the woman rushed. “Yes?” “Dr. Blake would like you to bring Duke.” I smiled into the phone. “Thank you.” Hanging up, I made my way upstairs. There was a pep in my step, and I was excited to see what the next step in Project Samantha would be. I DROVE THROUGH Coconut Grove with the windows down and Duke’s head sticking out of the window. The smell of the ocean filled my car, and the salty breeze moved through my hair. Stopping at a red light, I smiled at a couple who sat on the sidewalk of a

local bistro. Leaning across the iron table, they smiled happily, completely lost in each other’s eyes. I sighed and enjoyed the view until the car behind me honked loudly, letting me know the light had turned green. The palms that lined the street moved in the direction of my car as I sped past them, and the blur of ritzy hotels and cars moved out of the corner of my eye. When I pulled up to the park, I was met with people walking their dogs and men playing Frisbee in the distance. It was a weekday, yet people still played as if the weekend was upon us. People lived, and for once, I was happy to be a part of that. Climbing from my car, I adjusted my black yoga pants and pulled my pink tank down to cover my stomach better. It felt strange to leave the house dressed so casually, but it wasn’t like there were women in suits and Jimmy Choos walking around the park. I fit in, and that felt nice. Tugging Duke, who wanted to smell everyone and everything, we went in search of Roman. We found him waiting for us at the entrance sign. He hadn’t seen me yet, but I watched as he stretched his lean body and rolled his neck on his shoulders as if he were preparing for a hard workout. His gray sweats hung loosely on his hips—the drawstrings the only thing holding them up. His expensive shoes were replaced with sneakers and his T-shirt was sleeveless. Gone was the professional—in his place was a tall, dark, and sexy man who was ready to sweat. Feeling my stare, he turned toward me and smiled. It was a knowing smile—one that told me he knew I was staring, but I couldn’t look away. Instead, I reached into my pocket, pulling out a hair tie, and pulled my locks into a manageable ponytail. “I hope you came to work,” he said as he started to jog in place. “Today, we’re going to work our butts off.” “How does you basically telling me I need to sweat my butt away improve my selfesteem?” I joked. Leaning over, he stretched again, breaking our eye contact. He looked toward the sky as he did. “Not that I noticed, but your ass could still bounce a quarter off it.” And then I laughed. It was silly, but just knowing that Roman had checked out my ass made my day perfection. “Why, Doctor Blake, are you admitting that you looked at my ass? How unprofessional of you,” I joked again. He looked over at me before rolling his eyes and smiling. “You might want to stretch. I’m not one to take it easy on a lady.” He was talking about working out, but suddenly, I pictured Roman on top of me—his neck straining as he pounded into my body rhythmically. Just as fast as the vision came, I shook it away. The moment blew away that quickly, and my smile dropped. Turning to the side, I began stretching my arms and legs like I knew what I was doing. We jogged, our shoes pounding into the black-rock walking trails of the park. Neither

of us talked, and the sounds of our breathing filled the moment. It felt good to jog—to push myself and my muscles. My mind went clear, and I was able to think of the last few years. I thought about my marriage. I thought about the loss of my father and how I hadn’t really had a chance to grieve his death. It wasn’t as if I’d prepared for it, but my father made sure to be honest with me always. He knew he was dying. He’d known from the moment the oncologist diagnosed him. It didn’t make his loss easier, but it made the grief less. Of course, watching someone suffer and beg for their next breath put things into perspective, too. Death was more peaceful than what he’d endured. I wasn’t so selfish that I’d want him to stay with me and go through that. I’d whispered in his ear that it was okay for him to leave me, and he did so with a peaceful smile on his face. “You’re enjoying yourself,” Roman said from my side, breaking into my thoughts. “I am. It feels good to run,” I replied. “It does. I’m here at least twice a week if you’d like to join me. Exercise is good for the spirit, more so than the body.” “You come here twice a week? I pictured you with a gym membership.” “No. I like being outside. Plus, we’re training.” “We’re? And training for what?” I said with heavy, but curious, breaths. “There’s a charity race to raise money for St. Vincent’s once a year. I run in it, and you’re going to as well.” I wondered when I was going to stop being surprised by Roman Blake, and I decided I should probably just expect him to continuously be wonderful. Putting my hands on my hips, I tilted my head and gave him an impressed look. “You’re something else, ya know that, Roman Blake?” I said with a smile. “I’d be happy to do this with you.” And I meant it. He was the most selfless person I’d had the pleasure to meet in a long while. The things he did for the children of St. Vincent’s, as well as the things he was doing for me, said a lot of about who he was. “Well, thank you, Mrs. Aldridge,” he responded playfully. “I happen to think the same about you.” “Now what was that you said about not taking it easy on me?” I said, picking up the pace and enjoying the feel of the burn in my calves. He matched my speed and smiled over at me—a sweaty piece of dark hair sticking to his forehead and making him look wild and young. And we ran. We raced each other, him taking it easy on me even though he’d said he wouldn’t. When we made it back to my car, I threw myself across the hood, pressed my sweaty face to the cold steel, and breathed hard.

When I stood and turned to face Roman, he was standing behind me, his hands on his hips, and a strange look in his eyes. “You okay?” I asked. The look cleared and again, he turned away to stretch his body after our run. “Yeah. I’m okay.” It was around noon, and my stomach was eating away at itself. “I think since you dragged me out here to work me like a dog, the least you could do is come to lunch with me. There’s a fantastic Italian place close to your office. I think you’d love it there.” I stopped when I realized that I sounded as if I were asking him on a date. Actually, this entire day had a strange date vibe to it. Honestly, I didn’t hate it. “I mean if not, I totally understand.” I tried to fix my mishap. He stepped closer to me. Reaching up, he plucked a dead leaf from my hair. “That sounds great. I’m starving.” After dropping Duke at home, we met at Mama Maria’s, still in our sweaty workout clothes. We were both famished, and I couldn’t get the water I ordered down my throat fast enough. Water dribbled down my mouth and chin, stopping me. I laughed as I swiped at my chin. “Wow. That was attractive, huh?” I joked. His eyes turned serious before he turned away and looked over the menu. Something was going on in his mind, and I wanted to know what it was. “I haven’t been here in so long. Oh my God, before we leave, you have to get a chocolate ball,” I said with entirely too much excitement in my voice. Roman finally laughed. “So we work out, then we come here and eat chocolate?’ I laughed with him. “Yes.” “Seems like our little run was a bit on the pointless side if you ask me.” He looked up at me from behind his menu. A playful spark was in his whiskey eyes. I liked playful Roman. “No. Our run was amazing. I feel like I could take on the world right now.” I smiled. “Which means I could definitely take on a chocolate ball from Mama Maria’s. Plus, they’re not just chocolate balls.” With a cute smirk, he said, “Oh well, then please, enlighten me about these famous chocolate balls.” “You see, they are the equivalent of a chocolaty fortune cookie. Inside the ball, there is a fortune.” We ordered our food and talked about the practice while we ate. He told me how he’d

met Stein and how long they’d known each other. It was such a normal, friendly conversation. “I admit, Samantha, this place is every bit as delicious as you’d said.” “Right? I can’t believe you’ve worked across the street from this little piece of heaven for years and have never eaten here.” “I can’t believe I let you drag my arse here after we’ve just worked out,” he said, leaning away from the table and patting his flat stomach. We each ordered chocolate balls and even though I protested, Roman paid the bill. Cracking open my ball, I bit into a broken piece of chocolate and unrolled my fortune. Something great is right in front of you. I smiled to myself as I looked up at Roman. My fortune had never been so right. “What’s yours say?” he asked. Balling my fortune up, I stuffed it in my pocket. “It says you’re going to be late if we don’t get up and go.” AFTER LEAVING ROMAN, I drove straight home, feeling better than I had in a long time. I stepped into the house and was met with Duke and a smelly surprise from him in the kitchen. I let Duke out back before cleaning up the mess. When I was done, I went upstairs for a shower and was met by Michael on the stairs. “Where have you been?” he asked. He seemed calm today—different. It was as if he wanted to spend some time with me or something. “I went for a run,” I replied. He followed me up the stairs to the bedroom where I began digging through clothes before my shower. “Since when do you run unless you’re being chased?” he joked. It was intended to put me down, but I couldn’t help but laugh. My laughter wiped the smile right from Michael’s face. I could tell it angered him that I seemed so unfazed by his remark. “Since today. I found it very relaxing actually,” I said as I shut my underwear drawer with my hip. “It’s about time you took some time with your appearance,” he said.

Again, it was meant to put me down and again, I let it slide off my back. I wasn’t going to let him bring me down. Feeling happy and in a playful mood, I turned and poked my butt out. “So what do you think, Michael?” His lip curled up, and confusion moved across his face. “What do I think about what?” he asked. Forgetting that I was no longer with Roman, I posed with my neck arched and again poked my ass out. “Think you could bounce a quarter off my ass?” Michael’s eyes moved to my face, disgust filling his eyes. It was like strike three, and just that quickly, my good mood vanished. “I think your ass already has enough bounce without adding quarters to the problem. You could use a month or two at the gym. Don’t think your little makeover changes anything.” He turned on his heel and left the room. The entire day with Roman forgotten, I reached down and ran my fingers over my stomach, feeling the rolls and fat that I thought might be all in my head. All of Roman’s work getting into my brain and trying to help me was washed down the drain just that quickly. One step forward and five steps back.



THINGS WERE SHIFTING, and it was up to me to keep that from happening. I thought that maybe it was time I started dating again. Whatever it took to keep my head in the game and my eyes off Samantha’s chest as she jogged next to me. This wasn’t who I was. I wasn’t that guy. I was always able to look past the women who threw themselves at me, why couldn’t I do the same with a woman who was very obviously in love with her no-good husband? I’d made a promise to her and I’d stick with it, but things were getting harder and harder when it came to her. I was seeing her in a new light. I’d already found her attractive, but seeing her playful and happy with a radiant smile on her face was like a punch to the gut. I shouldn’t have accepted her offer for lunch, but I wasn’t ready to be away from her. I didn’t want to think about what that said about me. I was a gentleman, through and through, and I knew I’d never act on my thoughts, but it sickened me that I couldn’t control my thoughts. Cracking open my chocolate ball, my eyes stayed glued to Samantha’s mouth as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the piece of chocolate like it was orgasmic. I felt myself harden under the table. Instantly, I wanted to ask her forgiveness. I felt dirty and disgusted with myself. Looking down at the fortune in my hand didn’t help matters. What you want is right in front of you. Just take it. Clearly, the universe was out to get me. MY MOTHER LOVED to dance. I had memories of her slinging me and my little sister, Rachel, around the family room with a happy smile and laughter. It was one of my better memories, which was why when it came to finding something else that would bring Samantha confidence and happiness, I thought of dancing. Ballroom dancing to be exact. I had her meet me at the top dance studio in Miami Thursday afternoon, and when she walked in, wearing a flirty, knee-length dress and heels that made her calves pop and her ass do things to my head, I had to look away. She smiled at me as she made her way across the shining, hardwood floor to my side of the room.

“How did you know?” she asked, her face flushed with happiness and her eyes sparkling. I’d done that. I’d put that happiness there. If I had to step away tomorrow because I was getting too close, I’d walk away knowing that I’d done that. “How did I know what?” “I added dancing to my bucket list,” she said, slipping her light jacket from her body and revealing a pair of beautifully sun-kissed shoulders. They begged to be touched— begged for my kisses. Clearing my dry throat, I looked away. “I thought you didn’t have bucket list.” I knew I sounded grizzly and rude, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was my defense—the only thing keeping me on my feet when I suddenly had the desire to sink to my knees in front of her. “Well, thanks to you, I started one. Ballroom dancing is number four.” I wanted to know what one through three were, but I didn’t have time to ask before Ms. Bright, the dance instructor, was pulling us onto the floor. We were pushed together, my hand resting on her lower back, her tiny hand in mine, while the other rested on my shoulder. Heat from her body moved across my chest and the sweet smell of her skin enveloped me. It was that exact moment that I realized what I total git I’d been for picking something that would force us to be close. Perhaps in the deepest recesses of my mind, I’d known of the closeness. I’d longed for it. The music started, and Ms. Bright called out orders like a tiny drill sergeant. Soon, Samantha and I moved across the room as if we’d danced together many times. I led her around the floor, my eyes focused on hers, and it was as if nothing else existed. She wasn’t my patient, and she definitely wasn’t married. She was just Samantha, I was just Roman, and we were just dancing. “Very good,” Ms. Bright said in her Spanish flare. “What a lovely couple you two make.” Samantha pinched her lips together to keep from laughing as she looked up at me with her dark, mysterious eyes. I didn’t bother correcting the teacher. I was too caught up in the feel of her so close to me. “This is everything I’d hoped it would be,” Samantha said as I spun her, getting her hair caught on my wrist. We weren’t the best in the room by far, but we were making it work. “Why didn’t you ever go if it’s what you wanted?” I asked, even though I was sure I already knew the answer. “Michael was always too shy when I mentioned it, and then, he just never had the time. Still doesn’t.” Her smile slipped, and I mentally kicked myself for asking.

Reaching up, I smoothed away a soft strand of her hair. “You look really beautiful today, Samantha.” I lavished her with a compliment and was rewarded with another heartstopping smile. “Thank you, Roman. You look pretty good yourself,” she said playfully. She spoke as if we were rehearsing lines, as if what I’d said was only said because of our situation and my trying to build her confidence. I wanted her to know I meant what I said. And not only for my own selfish reasons, but because they were true. I meant every word, and it was important that she believed them, too. Not for me, but for herself. She needed to know that she was beautiful and charming. “Samantha.” Her name rushed from my lips in a whisper that I didn’t think she would hear over the music. She was staring down at our feet, but she looked up when I said her name. As soon as she did, I felt her small foot step on mine. “Oh my God, Roman!” Her face flushed, and she looked up at me with complete dread in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?” I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Not in the slightest.” “I’m not a very good dancer.” “I’m not a very good singer, but that doesn’t stop me from singing my favorite songs out loud. You’ll learn, and if you’re still stepping on my toes, we’ll just have to dance like that for the rest of the classes.” She laughed, and I loved the sound. It was uplifting and sweet. Sweeter than the soft music that blasted from the speakers. More beautiful than any definition of beauty. “Were you going to tell me something?” “Huh? Oh, right, yes.” Suddenly, what I was going to tell her didn’t seem to fit into the conversation anymore. I didn’t know how to bring it back up, but it was important that she know. Taking a deep breath, I started. “I meant what I said.” A small frown creased between her brows with her confusion. “About the dancing?” I shook my head. “No, about you being beautiful.” Her smile faded slightly, and she didn’t say anything right away as she stared into my eyes. I wanted to know what she was thinking—what she was feeling. Wondering if maybe, just maybe, she was feeling and thinking exactly what I was. I wanted to ask her, but she spoke before I had a chance to ask. “It’s easy for me to believe that when I’m with you. I’m different with you, Roman. You make me different.”

“No, I don’t. I just show you how I see you, and I treat you how every woman should be treated. I respect your mind, and I think your words matter. I not only find you beautiful, but I find your heart and compassion beautiful, too.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, but I knew I hadn’t upset her. I had managed to touch a part of her that every woman wanted to be touched. Her soul. It was deep inside—locked in a box covered by emotions—and somehow, my words were able to penetrate that shield. It made me happy when I saw from her expression that the tear that slipped down her cheek wasn’t one of sadness, but one of sweetness and feeling. “I wish…” She took a deep breath, and her sentence faded. “What?” I asked, tightening my grip on her and bringing her closer to me. I longed for her words as if they were my next breath. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen!’ the instructor interrupted loudly. She clapped her hands and demolished the moment between Samantha and me. “Let’s switch it up a little.” We blinked, taking a step back from each other, and she was the first to look away. We danced hand in hand for an hour, and I spent that time trying to control my body and its reactions to Samantha. Once the class was over, I gathered my jacket and prepared to go back to the office. My body was strung tight after holding her so close for so long, but I couldn’t let it get to me. Regardless of what I’d been thinking, the truth still remained. I was a doctor—she was my patient. My very married patient. I got into my car, thinking it was time I stopped seeing Samantha so much. Maybe go back to the once or twice a week thing. It seemed that since we’d started this, I was seeing her almost every day. It was starting to get to me. Those thoughts didn’t stop me from picking up my phone and texting her. Me: The Palm Bar and Lounge. Tomorrow night. 9pm. Samantha: Yes, Dr. Roman. What could I say? I was a masochist. WHEN FRIDAY NIGHT came around, I was nervous. I knew bringing Samantha around my friends wasn’t a great idea, but she’d said herself that she didn’t have any. She needed to be more social—step out with a crowd and laugh… maybe have a few drinks. She needed a night out. I waited at the bar across the room from the group I’d came with and waited for the bartender to serve me the drink I’d ordered. Looking down at my watch, I was nervous when I saw that it was almost ten. Samantha was almost an hour late, and I was beginning to worry that something might have happened to her. Tipping the bartender, I took my drink when she handed it over and turned to go back

towards the table we were sitting at. It was then that I saw her. She was wearing a strappy, black dress that touched her knees. A slit worked its way up the bottom of her skirt and when she moved, a tiny hint of her thigh and garter showed. My body tightened everywhere as my eyes moved down her long, curvy legs to the tip of her stilettos. She was amazing. Beautiful. Sexy. As she looked around the room, she bit nervously at her ruby-red bottom lip and instantly, I imagined doing the same, nibbling on her lip and tasting her. Her dark eyes met mine from across the room, and she smiled in relief. I lifted my drink and waved her over toward the bar. Eyes turned her way as she moved across the crowded room. Guys admired her body and leaned their heads to the side to catch a glimpse of her ass as she walked by. She had no clue what she did to the males in the room, but I knew. I definitely knew as I adjusted my pants and took a seat on a barstool. “What will you have?” I asked over the music when she got to my side. “I’d like to try a beer,” she said with smile. Turning away, I ordered her a beer and tried to think of anything that took the mental image of Samantha naked in my bed away.



I HADN’T BEEN out on the town since I was a teenager—since before Michael. He wasn’t one for dancing and drinking. Actually, he wasn’t one for fun, unless of course, it included a bimbo on his lap. I didn’t picture Roman as a man who drank beer, but once he handed me a longneck bottle, it was too late to change my mind. The bottle was cold, stinging my palm and chilling my lips. At first, the taste was unbearable. The bubbles rolled across my tongue, filling my mouth with the bitter flavor, but I continued to take them as Roman handed them over. After the first one, I didn’t even notice the taste anymore. He introduced me to the small group of friends he’d came with, two of them being women who were obviously head over heels for Roman. I didn’t say anything about it since I didn’t want to know if he was seeing either of them. I wasn’t sure when his dating life started to matter, but it wasn’t something I had any right to dwell over. After spending the day before in his arms, I knew I had to take a step back. When I got his text telling me to meet him the following night, I was so close to saying no. But then the memories of Michael and the blonde rushed into my mind and I knew that no matter how badly my body and mind was responding to Roman, I had to stay the course. I had to save my marriage. The two women, Laurie and Sarah, were attractive. Laurie was blonde and tall. Her legs looked amazing in her pencil skirt. Sarah was shorter with jet-black hair and big, pouty lips. I was jealous of several parts of their bodies, but once I caught Roman staring at me from across the table, all the jealousy wafted away. The gentlemen in the group, Chase, Gregg, and Marshall, were all colleagues of Roman’s. Apparently, everyone at the table was a doctor of some sort except for me. It was very intimidating to be surrounded by such smart people. Still, they were fun and talkative—asking questions and keeping me thoroughly entertained. As the night moved along, Roman’s eyes grew glassy, his cheeks flushing as if he’d had too much to drink. Still, he was ever the gentleman. Carefully ushering me around the room with his hand on the small of my back. Pulling out chairs for me and the girls who were with us. It was something I loved about him. Something I hoped Michael would one day do. Plucking the beer from my hand, he smiled down at me. “I think it’s time we take you out of your comfort zone.” I laughed. I was starting to feel a tiny buzz around me. “I’m pretty sure I left my comfort zone when I walked through the doors.” “I think not. Come on.” He wrapped his warm hand around mine, sending goose bumps up my arm, and pulled me toward the side of the room with the tiny stage.

“No, Roman!” I laughed when I saw the karaoke set up. “I refuse.” Turning, he cupped my cheeks as if he were about to kiss me. Excitement filled his eyes, showing me a totally different side of the doctor, and then he smiled. “I helped you knock something off your bucket list, and you won’t help me with one of mine?” He was giving me a guilt trip, and it was the cutest thing ever. “Singing karaoke is on your bucket list?” I asked. I was having a hard time focusing with his hands touching my face the way they were, but I didn’t want to be rude and pull away. Plus, I liked the feel of his warm palms against my cheeks. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine him leaning down and kissing me softly. He pulled his hands away from my face as if realizing he’d been touching me for so long, and then he turned toward the stage. “Well, not really. I’ve sang karaoke before, but the point is, you haven’t. Please, Samantha.” And that was all it took. The look in his glazed eyes. The alcohol on his breath that I could practically taste he was so close. I wasn’t sure if it was the beer or Roman that made me so drunk on life at the moment. All I know is we ended up on stage in front of the entire place singing a really bad rendition of a Bon Jovi song, and I loved every minute of it. Later, as the night began to wear down, I switched from beer and shots with the group to water. My car was outside and if I didn’t sober up some, I was going to have to call a cab. Not to mention, Roman was pretty buzzed too, and for once, I wanted to take care of him. He would need a ride home, and I wanted to be that ride. I giggled to myself with that thought, drawing Roman’s attention. He moved closer to me, his hand resting on my knee, making me jump. “You know what,” he slurred in my ear. “I know you think you’ve been the one holding Michael back, but the truth is, he holds you back. Think of all the things you could have done or could be doing if he just tried a little to make you happy. If for once he did something you wanted to do.” He’d never spoken about Michael the way he was. As far as I knew, Roman was making me better for Michael, yet there he was, saying I wasn’t the problem. I couldn’t help but kind of agree. “I know. It’s been so long since I’ve had as much fun as I have with you.” The words came out wrong. I accidently made them sound as if we were dating or something, and that definitely wasn’t the case. Heat filled my cheeks, and I turned away to take a sip of my water to cool my heated throat. The room around us was a haze of blurry bodies and music that I wasn’t paying any attention to. Laurie and Sarah had excused themselves earlier in the night, leaving me as the only female in the group.

“Doesn’t he take you out at all?” Roman asked, leaning even closer. Our conversation was quiet in the corner, and it was personal. So personal in fact that I felt as if the walls were moving in. Again, I sipped at my water. Shaking my head, I set the glass down and rolled the straw between my two fingers. When I looked up, Roman was staring at my lips as if he were ready to lick the moisture from them. I took a deep breath and tried to turn my thoughts back toward Michael. “Michael doesn’t do anything with me anymore.” I turned away. “Much less take me on dates.” His warm fingers heated my chin as he turned me to face him again. He was so close. So warm. So perfect. “Anything?” he asked. His eyes were pinned to my mouth. I turned away, missing his touch from my face immediately. “No.” And then I felt his hand cover mine on the table, and I couldn’t help but turn and face him. His eyes devoured mine before they moved down my face, landing on my lips once more. “Michael is a stupid, stupid man, Samantha.” And then he broke the spell when he moved away, grabbed his beer, and took a deep swig. WE SHUT THE bar down and left at two in the morning. I was still a little fuzzy, but I knew I could get myself home okay. It was Roman I was worried about. I pulled out my keys as we exited the bar and turned to face him. “I’m giving you a ride home. You’re drunk.” “You’re right. I’m thoroughly pissed, but I have to decline the ride. Also, you’re not driving home.” As if we were in a movie and it was given its cue, a fancy, black town car pulled up in front of us. An older man stepped out, opening the back door for us. I hadn’t expected Roman to have a driver since he was always in his sports car, but at least he thought ahead and had the sense to know he would be drinking tonight. I nodded and dropped my keys back into my purse before I climbed into the car. Roman moved in after me, his thigh pressing against mine. I kept my mind on Michael the entire time, not giving myself time to analyze what it felt like to be so close to such a masculine man. Roman was big, and he always smelled so good. It was becoming harder and harder to not notice these things about him. I tried to remember what it was we were doing together, but then he’d shift and his

own personal scent would move toward me. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Even though I was very married and very much in love with Michael, I was physically attracted to Roman. I had been from the start. “Did you have fun tonight?” he asked from his dark corner. His voice was deeper, and I could tell by the way he sounded that he was facing me— watching me. I liked it. His eyes on me made me feel sexy—beautiful. I knew that his pretty compliments were a part of the procedure, but somehow, his words managed to move into my brain. I felt desirable when I was with Roman, and it was a turn on for me. “I did.” I clenched my thighs together, enjoying the feel of my lace panties and trying my hardest not to think about the man next to me. I was so broken. Michael had made sure of that over the years. There I was with a man, trying to get help to make my marriage better, yet I couldn’t stop thinking about what he would feel like between my legs. Then something snapped. Everything rushed on me. Maybe it was the alcohol or the fact that I’d finally hit my breaking point, but everything pressed against my chest, bringing tears to my eyes. So much had happened. So much was happening, and I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. The girl I was with Michael wasn’t the same woman I was when I was with Roman. In the back of my mind, I knew which me I liked more, but it was wrong to like that side more. A tear moved down my cheek as I thought about the last few months. Finding Michael with another woman. Losing my father, the only person who ever really cared about me. And honestly, the tears felt good. I thought I was being quiet about it in my corner of the car, and I thought Roman wouldn’t see my tears since the car was dark, but suddenly, he was there and his arms were around me. His warmth moved through me, sending a soothing calm through my bones. Just a few weeks ago, Roman was a total stranger to me, but now I felt closer to him than I had to anyone else in a long time. “It’s okay. Let it out,” he said as he rubbed my back in circles. The professional stepped back in, pushing the drunk, fun man he was on the back burner. Backing away, I swiped quickly at my face. His thick fingers followed my hands, wiping what remained. For such large fingers, they were soft. I wanted to close my eyes and lean into his touch. “Thank you,” I said through my clogged throat. “I needed tonight.” His throat worked up and down as he swallowed hard and again, his fingers moved over my cheeks softly. His fingertips moved across my lips, and I gasped at the sensation that pulled low in my stomach. I closed my eyes to enjoy his touch before he pulled his hand away.

“Forgive me,” he said sweetly. He was such a gentleman. It was a nice change from the smartass I lived with. “For what?” I asked. He’d been nothing but nice to me. Forgiveness was the last thing he needed. “I shouldn’t touch you that way. It won’t happen again.” Already I missed his touch and even though I knew the words were wrong, I couldn’t stop them. “I like it.” Again, the car around us got quiet as we sat there. The screen was up, blocking us from the driver, and I thought maybe it would be smart to let it down so I had no choice but to control myself. But then his big hands moved to cradle my face, his thumb stroking the soft skin beneath my eye. “Samantha, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You’re such a beautiful woman, inside and out, and like I said before, I think your husband is an idiot.” Looking down, I chuckled a bit. “You’re my doctor. You kind of have to say that.” Clearing his throat, he dropped his hands from my face, and I felt the loss of his heat. “Actually, I shouldn’t say those things because I’m your doctor. That wasn’t the professional in me speaking—that was the man.” I understood he’d had too much to drink, but his words still moved down into my core, sealing a few of the broken parts that Michael had destroyed. And while I wasn’t a very brazen woman, something inside of me clicked. Roman was saying and doing everything I’d needed for the last few years, and it felt amazing. Hell, just the way he was looking at me was enough. I couldn’t stop myself. Leaning over, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his face down. My lips grazed his once, hot breath from his nose coating my cheek, before I went in for the kill and pressed myself to him. His lips warmed mine, but he didn’t kiss me back—not at first anyway. Once I pressed closer, he wrapped his arms around me, his hands gripping the back of my dress, and he kissed me back. I opened for him. His tongue danced with mine, sending sparks of fire down my body and making me throb between my thighs. Our breathing picked up, and a manly growl escaped his mouth into mine. Climbing him, I tried to get closer. I was out of control. My body’s response was a surprise to me. Never had I felt so wild and out of control with Michael. Reaching up my dress, he grabbed my hips, pulling me down onto him harder. He thrust between my legs, his erection shocking me and pressing against the spot that yearned for him. Pulling away, I sucked in a breath and released a moan. And then, everything stopped. As if waking from a dream, he sat me abruptly to the side and moved away from me, his body pressing into the door on his side. His hand went to his mouth to wipe away my kisses, and he looked down at his palm as if the traces of me would be visible.

“Forgive me, Samantha.” Tucking a stray hair from my face, I looked away, embarrassed by my reaction to him. “It’s okay,” I rasped. “No. It most certainly is not okay. It was unprofessional of me, and I assure you it won’t happen again.” I felt deflated by his words. Did I want it to happen again? I’d basically cheated on Michael, and I loved him, I really did, but my body needed what Roman had just given me. Even though I probably should have, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. I nodded in agreement since I didn’t trust myself to speak. I wanted so badly to do it again, and I knew if I opened my mouth, that was what would come out. I’d already embarrassed myself enough. Roman cleared his throat, and silence ensued until the car pulled up in front of my house. Without looking over at him, I said goodnight and climbed from the car. The cool night air rushed up my dress, cooling my heated flesh and reminding me what I’d done with Roman. Being out of the dense air that surrounded us in the car, I felt like I could breathe again. It was the strangest thing being so attracted to someone who wasn’t your husband, but I was. God, I was so attracted to Roman. And after that kiss, I wasn’t sure returning to his office was such a good idea. The only problem was that I cared about Roman. He was much more than my doctor—he was my friend. And as much as I told myself I’d never see him again, I was addicted to the way he made me feel. Stepping into the house, I set my purse on the table by the door and started toward the stairs. “Where the fuck have you been?” Michael said from a chair in the living rom. He sat there as if he’d been waiting for me. “I called your phone over and over again. I texted you until my phone died. Whose limo was that and again, where the fuck have you been?” He was irate. Anger flared in his eyes. “I was out with friends,” I said truthfully. “Don’t bullshit me, Sam. You don’t have any friends, and we both know it.” I started toward the stairs. I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him and honestly, he had no right to question where I’d been. Guilt reared its ugly head as I thought about what had happened in the back of Roman’s limo, but I pushed it down and took the first step. I was swung around by my arm, Michael’s fingers digging so deeply into my skin that I was sure he could feel my bone. “Are you fucking someone else?” he asked, his eyes wide, as if he could hardly

believe he was saying it himself. “You’re hurting me, Michael,” I said as I pulled at his fingers and tried to get him to release me. “Answer me, Samantha! Are you?” He looked down at my dress, and his eyes widened more. “Didn’t I tell you to never wear this dress? Didn’t I tell you that you’re too old for this shit?” His fingers dug deeper, pain radiating up my arm and into my shoulder. “Stop it. Let me go, Michael.” “Just say it. Say you’re fucking someone else. I want to hear it.” I could hardly believe he was acting the way he was. Nine years we’d been married and never had he laid a hand on me. It was as if he were someone else. As if someone evil had taken over his body. “There’s no one else, Michael. Please, let me go. You’re hurting me!” He released me fast, making me lose my balance and fly into the banister. The part of my arm that he’d been squeezing slammed into the wood, sending a shock of pain up my arm and into my shoulder once more. Without checking to see if I was okay, Michael fled from the stairs, grabbing his coat by the door and slamming the front door behind him.



I WAS PLAYING with fire, and I already knew I was going to get burned. Hell, I’d burned already in the car with her—died and gone to heaven before falling back into perdition. My body hardened under her kisses, my muscles aching for her touch. And I, the most controlled person I knew, lost it. All self-control flittered away, and all I could think about was thrusting my body against hers. I wanted to be inside her, all around her—lose myself in her completely. I was prepared to show her everything Michael wasn’t in that moment… prepared to give over all of myself. Thoughts of ripping her panties from her body and pressing into her warm, wet heat rolled through my mind. It wasn’t until I felt the coolness of her wedding band against my cheek that reality slipped back in. Married. She is married. The word bounced around my head like a sharpened dagger piercing my conscious and effectively shocking me. I was an honest man. Always had been. I’d prided myself on my honesty all my life. Sleeping with a patient, a married one at that, wasn’t something I wanted to add to my bucket list. Michael Aldridge was a bloody arse who didn’t deserve Samantha, but who was I to say what anyone else deserved? I was the outsider in that scenario, not him. And while I wasn’t very fond of the man, he was still her husband. He had been there first and evidently, something about him had made Samantha fall in love with him. I needed to remember that his position in her life deserved a tiny bit of respect. Sure, he was sleeping with every woman he could get his hands on, but that was his demons to lie with, not mine. I wasn’t about to lower myself to his level by sleeping with his wife. No matter how badly I wanted to. Oh, I wanted to, and I wanted to blame the alcohol. Lord knew I’d had enough trying to drink away the way I was feeling for Samantha that night, but I knew what I was doing. I was aware enough to know it was wrong. I went home that night with the plan to stay away from Samantha. She was my patient. There was no need to see her outside of my office. I even considered telling her that there would be no more procedures for her. Especially since the only procedure I wanted to perform was inserting my body into hers. I spent Sunday avoiding my phone, which was unlike me since I was a doctor. I wasn’t on call considering my practice, but I always kept my phone close just in case. I knew if she texted me or called, I wouldn’t be able to resist, and I also knew if my phone was in my hand or near me, I was going to text or call her. I had to resist her. There was no other way.

MONDAY MORNING CAME, and I still hadn’t contacted her or heard from her. Honestly, I was making myself crazy just thinking about her. I couldn’t focus at work or my meeting with Dr. Stein. I’d ruined a perfectly good lab coat with ink, and I’d spilled coffee all over the rug in my office. My day was a mess and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t think of anything but her. In the end, I canceled all my appointments and left the office as soon as possible. Going to Mama Maria’s, I ordered lunch and a chocolate ball, eating them with memories of our lunch together. When I pulled out my wallet to pay, the fortune I’d gotten on my first visit fell from my wallet, reminding me of what I wanted. When I killed enough time sipping my water, I left to go see my favorite patients. I spent the ride over to St. Vincent’s replaying Samantha’s sweet noises repeatedly in my mind until I considered pulling over and relieving myself on the side of the road like a randy teenage boy. Parking in my usual spot, I sat in my car for a bit. I needed to get my mind right before I went inside and put on a happy face for the kids. I wasn’t my usual talkative self with the nurses when I got the files I needed. They noticed. I could tell by the looks they gave each other. But none of them said anything, thankfully. Looking over the notes from the night nurses, I checked on a few patients before going to visit Tori. My shoes tapped against the hospital floor as I made my way toward her room, but I stopped before stepping into her space when I heard Samantha’s voice. She was inside, giggling with Tori about something, and her laugh filled me with a sense of happiness. Moving closer to the doorway, but still keeping from being seen, I listened as they talked. Leaning the back of my head against the wall, I smiled to myself as Tori asked awkward questions about things she couldn’t possibly understand. “Do you like Dr. Roman?” Tori asked. Samantha chuckled. I closed my eyes and envisioned her smile. “I do like him very much. He’s a great friend,” she responded. “Do you think he’s cute?” Tori asked, totally clueless to my situation. Again, Samantha giggled, and I smiled secretly to myself. “Well, Tori, I must admit, I think Dr. Roman is a very handsome man. Now, let’s finish this book, shall we?” She thought I was handsome. Her words seem to make all my thoughts dissolve. There was only her. I sat and listened as Samantha read a book to Tori. Every now and again, Tori would stop her and ask questions like a normal child her age, but something happened in that moment. Seeing her with Tori, hearing her talk to her the way she was and being so nice to the girl, it finalized everything for me.

I was falling for Samantha. Actually, I was pretty sure I’d already fallen. She was married, but she was perfect in every way possible. And there she was, meeting with my patients, ones close to my heart, when she didn’t have to. She was bringing light to other’s lives without being asked to. Stopping a nurse, I pulled her to the side. “The lady in Tori’s room…how long has she been here?” I asked. “Mrs. Aldridge?” the nurse asked with lowered brows. I was shocked that she knew Samantha’s name. “Yes. Has she been here long?” “Today no, but she comes by at least once a day to see the kids. They seem to love her.” I nodded. “Thank you,” I said. Something warm bloomed in my chest and spread through my body. Samantha Aldridge was perfect. She had no idea how much so. It was time I faced facts. It was too late. I wasn’t sure how it happened, and God knew I hadn’t meant for it to, but I was in love with her. She did things to me—changed my way of thinking and feeling. She had pushed past my professional barriers and lavished me with feelings I never thought I’d have. I could deny it as much as I wanted to, but I wanted her to be mine. I wanted to keep her tucked away safely from anyone who made her feel like she was less than wonderful. But the truth was a heartless wench who hurt. Samantha would never be mine. It wasn’t something that was ever going to happen, which meant heartbreak was inevitable.



THREE DAYS WENT by, and I heard nothing from Roman. I hated thinking that something as stupid as drinking too much and kissing was going to end a friendship that meant so much to me. Although, when I thought about it, what happened between us was way more than kissing. Remembering how hot he felt between my legs or the way he bucked his hips for more… it was unbearable. I was strung so tightly that I felt as if I would burst at any second if I didn’t get some kind of relief, but there would be none. None from Michael and definitely none from Roman. Every time I called his office, he was busy, and every time I called his cell, it went to voice mail. I was being ignored, officially, and though it shouldn’t have, it hurt so badly. Three days… that was all it took me to miss Roman. Michael went out of town for weeks, and I didn’t miss him like that. It was wrong… so wrong. I was being ignored by Roman. After being jerked around and bruised by Michael, I was ignoring him. If it wasn’t for Duke, I would have been one lonely girl for the weekend, but still, I stayed away from Michael. The situation was almost funny, if I hadn’t thought that maybe I was losing my mind. I was more worried about Roman never talking to me again than I was about upsetting Michael. That made me the worst kind of wife. I continued to go to St. Vincent’s to see the kids every day. Being with them was amazing. Seeing how they took their burns and scars in stride was truly uplifting. Not to mention, the kids themselves were just amazing to be around. I’d gotten my degree in early childhood education when I was younger. Being with the kids made me realize how badly I wanted to teach. I’d given up those dreams the minute I married Michael. Then again, being with the kids also made me realize how badly I wanted a child of my own, too. Monday morning, I woke to find Michael downstairs eating breakfast. He was usually out of the door without a trace by the time I woke up, so it was strange to see him there eating eggs and reading the paper. “Good morning, Sam,” he said when I stepped into the kitchen. I wanted to continue to ignore him, but I was curious what he was up to. “Good morning,” I responded. When I stepped up to the table, he shocked me when he stood and pulled out a chair for me. It was as if I’d stepped into some alternate reality. “I made coffee and eggs if you’re hungry.” He smiled down at me. He looked like the old Michael—the one I’d married so many years ago, but still, something was different. Things were off.

“Thank you,” I stuttered. I sat, and he put a plate of eggs and a coffee cup in front of me. He even remembered how I liked my coffee—two sugars and cream. The coffee was hot when it moved across my tongue, and the eggs were delicious. Reaching out, Michael ran his fingertips down my arm and over the purple bruise he’d left. “I’ve never put my hands on you before. It’s not something that will ever happen again,” he said. It wasn’t an apology, but I’d take it. His fingers shifted and worked up my arm to my shoulder where he palmed my skin and gave me an apologetic grin. Still, things felt weird. I wasn’t sure if it was him or if it was me, but things had changed in the last few weeks. Change was a scary thing. Especially when you didn’t know what it was that had changed. I SPENT THE following morning on the beach, searching for shells for Tori and getting sand in my expensive shoes. Doing it reminded me of Roman. Plus, it was fun to play up the mermaid thing with her. I’d even bought her a few mermaid shirts that she fell absolutely in love with. Making her happy made me happy. With my hands full of goodies for the kids, I made my way through the hall toward Tori’s room. I smiled at the nurses as I passed. They were nice ladies—always doing everything they could for the children. I admired them and all they did. I was about to walk into Tori’s room when I heard Roman’s voice. The deep timber of his voice moved over me and lifted something heavy from my chest that I hadn’t known was there. Then I heard a woman’s laughter, and the heaviness settled on me once again. Looking over, I saw a beautiful woman with her hands all over Roman. And then the strangest thing happened. I had a sick desire to rip her arms from her body. I wasn’t much for conflict. Obviously, since I’d walked away when I caught my husband having sex with another woman. However, with Roman it was different. They weren’t having sex, but just the thought of her touching him sent fire up my spine. My stomach bottomed out, and I suddenly felt as if I were going to be sick. The hallway spun around me as I thought about running somewhere—anywhere—to get away from the scene in front of me, but then he laughed, my heart warmed, and I couldn’t move my feet no matter how badly I wanted to.



I WAS JUST finishing up my rounds at St. Vincent’s and thinking about maybe calling Samantha when I got in my car. It had been a few days, and I missed her. I would, of course, pretend that seeing her was purely for her and Michael’s benefit. She didn’t need to know that seeing her was all I could think about since I’d dropped her off at home the night we went too far. “Dr. Roman, how nice to see you again,” a female said from my side, breaking my concentration and thoughts. Turning, I found myself face to face with Daphne Raines, a world-renowned children’s surgeon from Washington that I’d dated a few years back. I’d just moved to the states, I was young, and she was beautiful. Even now, she was still beautiful, but nothing compared to my Samantha. “Dr. Raines, what a surprise. What brings you to Miami?” I asked, turning away from Tori’s door and stepping away. “There’s a young man on the third floor who needs my expert touch. But enough about work. What about you, Roman?” she said quietly as she leaned into me. “Are you in need of my expert touch still?” We’d ended abruptly when I realized that we both wanted different things. As in, she wanted to sleep with other people, and I wanted to be exclusive. I often wondered what the parents of the kids she treated would think of her if they knew she was a closet sex addict. But still, years ago, I had fallen right into her seductive trap. I spent night after night with her until I felt as if I couldn’t go anymore, until I no longer wanted to go anymore. She was there, staring back at me with her thick lips that I knew were extremely skilled, but when I closed my eyes, all I could see was sweet Samantha and her big, brown eyes. “I think I’ll have to pass,” I said as nicely as possible. And then a loud noise from beside me sounded, and I turned to see the woman I’d just been thinking of staring back at me. Her brows were pulled in as she leaned down and collected the things she’d just dropped. Things that consisted of seashells and candy, all things that made me smile. Her face was red, and she was mumbling something to herself. Leaving Daphne’s side, I knelt down to help her pick up the items. “Don’t. I got it,” she snapped. I pulled my hand back as if she’d actually snapped at me. And then I went back to work helping.

“Seriously, Dr. Blake. Just leave it.” She sounded angry and not since our first meeting had she called me Dr. Blake. It sounded like an insult coming from her sweet lips. “Samantha?” I asked quietly. “What’s wrong?” And then she looked up at me. The fire in her eyes burned me where I knelt. She was angry. I was sure it was because I’d kissed her and disappeared, but then she said something else. “Just go back to your lady friend,” she lashed out again. I could hardly believe it. Samantha Aldridge was jealous. And although it was wrong, I couldn’t help but feel happy about it. A smile tugged at my lips, and it was a struggle to school my face. She stood, organizing the stuff in her arms, all things for the kids, and my heart melted. When I reached out to help her, she pulled away again. This time, I didn’t let her. I held her elbow and forced her to look me in the face. Her eyes moved around, determined not to look at me. I’d never wanted her eyes on me so badly. I wanted to convey with my eyes that what she was thinking wasn’t correct. “Thank you for coming to see the kids,” I said, trying to change the subject. She opened her mouth to respond, but then Daphne showed up beside us. I’d all but forgotten she was there. “I can see you’re busy. We’ll catch up later,” she said. Her words sounded flirty, and my teeth gritted. Why did she have to make it sound as if we had something going on? But then again, why did I care that she made it sound that way? Samantha’s face colored before looking away, as if she weren’t paying attention to the conversation around her. I nodded to Daphne and waited until she was gone before I spoke to Samantha again. “I should go,” she said, moving to step around me. When I stopped her with a hand on her arm, she stared at the space above my shoulder. “Samantha,” I said softly. I wanted to say so many things I had no right to say, but instead, I stopped at her name. And then she turned her dark eyes on me, and I felt as if I could breathe again. “Come on, let’s go visit with Tori.” Taking a few of the items from her arms, I took her elbow and directed her inside Tori’s room. I did a standard checkup on Tori, and I was happy that things were looking up for her. She was in high spirits, a smile plastered on her face for Samantha as she went through the many seashells she’d brought. Blowing warm air on the chest piece of my stethoscope, I placed it over Tori’s heart,

holding it by the stem to get a good listen. Moving it to her back to listen to her breathe, I was happy there was no fluid in her lungs. It was a good change considering a week after she was admitted, she got a seriously bad case of pneumonia and a tiny bit of fluid had remained there ever since. “Everything’s looking great,” I said, pulling out the ear tips and adjusting my stethoscope around my neck. “What about her?” Tori asked, pointing at Samantha. “You should check her heart, too” “You’re absolutely right, Tori.” I smiled over at Samantha. “I should definitely give Ms. Aldridge a listen.” Chuckling to myself, I adjusted the stethoscope, putting the ear tips back in and blocking out the sounds of the room around me. When I took a step toward Samantha, her back straightened and the smile on her face dissolved. We stared at each other as I placed the chest piece against the soft skin where her button-up shirt parted. The sound of her beating heart filled my ears, a steady rhythm. As I moved the chest piece a bit, her heart skipped a beat before speeding up. She swallowed hard, her nerves showing clearly in her gaze. Was I making her heart speed up? “Are you nervous?” I whispered. Her skin flushed, and she swallowed hard. Again, her heart skipped and sped. “Am I making you nervous?” I asked again, careful not to let Tori hear. She nodded, taking a deep breath. I liked her reaction. It matched mine in a way. Using the tip of my finger, I brushed away a stray piece of her hair that had fallen against my equipment. She closed her eyes and exhaled, the sound of her heartbeat intensifying. “Is she okay?” Tori asked loudly, bringing me back to the moment. Pulling out the ear tips, I pulled the stethoscope from around my neck and put it in the deep pocket of my lab coat. “She’s perfect,” I said, devouring Samantha with my eyes. Ten minutes later, I was saying goodbye to both girls. The room around me felt as if it were closing in, and I knew I had several appointments left before my day was over. I couldn’t afford to have a scattered brain. As soon as I got in my car, I pulled out my phone and sent her a text before I lost my nerve. Me: Dinner tonight at 7? She would think we were just continuing with the procedure. She didn’t need to know that dinner with her was more for me than it was for her.

Her response didn’t come in until I was back at my office, looking over files. Pulling my phone from my coat pocket, I smiled. Samantha: Name the place and I’ll be there. THERE I WAS, sitting in front of her, and ordering dinner. I wasn’t sure what possessed me to ask her on a date, but I was drawn to her and fascinated with her reaction to me and another woman. It made me feel something I couldn’t describe. I didn’t hate it. Dinner was dinner. Nothing serious. Who cared if my eyes followed her fork every time she took a bite—that my body responded to the way her lips wrapped around the fork and she chewed like her food was full of pleasure. It was nice to see a woman eat without restraint—to not take three bites and let the rest of the food go bad. No. Samantha Aldridge had a hardy appetite and it seemed when it came to her, so did I. Taking a sip of her wine, she licked her lips. She didn’t know what she was doing. She was totally clueless that she was seducing me, but it was happening. If only she knew how naturally seductive and beautiful she was. That was what my plan was—to show her what I could see. What I was knew other men saw as well. Once she was able to see it, it would reflect from the inside out, and Michael would come to notice it, too. I wanted her, but I truly wanted to help her. If Michael were the person who made her happy, then I’d do everything I could to make sure she got him. “So tell me, Roman,” she patted her succulent mouth with her cloth napkin, “what’s the next step in Project Samantha?” Smiling, I took a sip of my own wine and set the glass back to the table. I hadn’t realized how close our hands were until I accidently brushed her knuckles with mine. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait until we’re in the privacy of my office?” That sounded sexual. I hadn’t meant for it to sound that way, but evidently, she picked up on it because she blushed sweetly. “What I meant to say was…” She cut me off. “I get what you’re saying.” She smiled at me from across the table, looked away, and focused on the thin stem of her wineglass. “You should feel sexy,” I blurted out. To hell with my bloody mouth. It had a mind of its own today apparently. “Excuse me?” she said, her blush deepening in color. “What I mean to say is, wear something that makes you feel attractive.” I choked on my words and took a deep swallow of my wine before finishing. “The way a woman feels is usually reflected in her eyes. When you feel attractive, it shows to the world.

Confidence, Samantha, is the sexiest accessory a woman can wear. If you’re feeling confident, it relays well.” God help me. She was going to show up at my office looking as delicious as the food in front of me, and I was going to want to eat her up. It occurred to me that I was torturing myself. How something as simple as meeting with a patient had turned into this was beyond me. I was attracted to this woman, in a way I hadn’t been with anyone else in a long time. And I was about to make it whole lot harder. Pun intended. “Okay, I’ll figure it out,” she said with a smile. Another thing I was learning about myself—I loved to make her smile. Every time she did, it was like I’d accomplished all I needed to for the day. It made me feel strong— manly. It was a pleasant feeling. We finished up dinner, I paid the bill, and we awkwardly went our own way outside of the restaurant. When I got to my office the following day, I had three more appointments. I tried to give each patient the attention they needed, but still, my mind kept wandering back to Samantha and what she’d be wearing when she got there.



STANDING AT THE wall of windows in my office, I watched the sidewalk across from our building. I hardly ever had time in between patients to sit and think, but I knew Samantha was coming and I needed to get my head in the game. I’d spent the night running all the reasons my feelings and thoughts for Samantha were wrong, and I woke with a stronger willpower. She was my patient, I was her doctor, and I’d made a promise to help her. So help her I would, but it would end there. There would be no more heated kisses or touches. There would be no more naughty thoughts. I’d make sure of it. I turned at the light tap on my door to find Belinda, a new nurse, standing there with a smile. “Dr. Blake, Ms. Aldridge is here to see you.” Nodding, I adjusted my coat before I took a seat behind my desk. “Please let her in.” I prepared myself for whatever sexy clothing Samantha had worn, but when she stepped into my office, I was surprised to see her in a pair of slacks and a simple blouse. She smiled at Belinda and came to take a seat in front of my desk. The door shut, leaving us all alone in the room. My eyes moved over her face and down her neck before settling on the top of the loose collar. I wasn’t sure how she was managing to do it, but she made even the simple clothing she was wearing look sexy. “Samantha.” Her name rushed past my lips a little too breathlessly, and I paused to gather my wits. “How are you doing today?” I asked. She patted nervously at her hair as she looked down. “I know you said to wear something sexy, but I’m not sure what’s sexy and what’s not.” Either she was completely clueless or she was lying. The night at the bar when she walked in, in that short black number, my cock stood at attention for her and stayed that way all night. She was sexy and whether she realized it or not, she knew how to dress that way. I stood tall behind the barriers I’d spent the morning building, but when the office walls began to press against me, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I started tearing those down for Samantha. Standing quickly, I moved around the desk and toward the door. I needed to get out of the room, the place where I was alone with Samantha and breathing in her sweet perfume, and I needed to get out fast. She sat in front of my desk, staring over at me like I’d lost it. “Are you coming?” I asked. “Where are we going?”

I opened the door, the fresh air from outside my office rushing in and moving over my face. “Shopping. Now get up and let’s go.” I stepped out of the office and she was soon on my heels. THE RIDE TO a pricey boutique on Miami Beach was a quiet one. Both of us were aware of each other, neither of us knowing what to say, and it was hard not to mention the night in the limo and apologize again. I was tipsy, but I knew well enough what I was doing, and I also knew how badly I wanted to do it again. Holding the door open for her, I followed her into the establishment full of women’s clothing. I felt out of place, but at least we weren’t alone. I was doing my job without the chance of throwing caution to the wind again since we were surrounded by people. “Now what?” she asked. “Now we shop,” I responded. Out of habit, I placed my hand on the small of her back and ushered her deeper into the store. I heard her inhale deeply and quickly removed my hand from her body. Standing to the side, I watched as she picked through the clothing. A salesperson came over and asked if we needed any help, but we assured her we were doing just fine on our own. Although, after thirty minutes of watching Samantha shop, I felt bad for her. She really had no idea what looked nice on her. “Um. Help would be nice,” she said, grinning over the clothes at me. She was adorable. “Hmm… let’s see,” I said as I peered around the store. My eyes stopped on a golden dress across the store from us. The silk at the bottom billowed like cascading liquid gold, but the top was strapless, leaving me to picture Samantha’s beautiful shoulders and neck being completely uncovered. When I moved across the boutique, she followed behind me. “That.” I pointed at the dress. “I’d love to see you in that.” “I don’t know about that, Roman,” she said nervously at my side. Ignoring her worries, I called over the salesperson. I had her get the correct size and take it into a dressing room for Samantha. She fidgeted as the saleslady secured the dress and moved out of the way for Samantha to enter. I sat outside the room and waited. “I want to see it before you take it off,” I called out from my perch. “Yeah. Yeah. Yeah,” she joked. I heard her inside struggling—a few tiny curses whispered behind the door. I couldn’t

help but chuckle softly to myself. “Need some help in there?” I asked. The minute the question left my lips, I kicked myself. Being alone in a small space with a half-dressed Samantha Aldridge wasn’t a smart move. “Actually, I could use your help,” she called out. Again, I kicked myself. Standing, I stood outside the door and waited for her to open it for me. And then there she was, standing beautifully in the gorgeous gown. The light above her made her skin shine—her shoulders looked even more kissable. My eyes clashed with hers, and a tiny blush covered her cheeks. Her brown eyes looked darker than usual, as if all the great mysteries of the world were locked behind them. I swallowed hard and stepped closer to her. She turned, lifting her hair from her shoulders to show me that she couldn’t get the back zipped up. The urge to press my lips against the back of her neck was strong. Clearing my throat, I reached out and pulled the zipper into place. “There you go,” I said. And then I caught her openly staring at me in the mirror, and my eyes were caught in hers. She was beautiful. Beyond beautiful. I covered her shoulder with my palm and let my hand slide down her arm. Our eyes remained locked, and I watched as another pretty blush covered her cheeks. “You’re so beautiful, Samantha,” I whispered. And then she looked down at herself and took a deep breath. “I look bloated and old,” she said, pulling at the extra fabric at the bottom of the dress. “Why do you do that?” I asked. Her eyes clashed with mine in the mirror again. “Do what?” “Every time I think we’re making progress and you’re finally starting to open up and see how amazing you are, you say something bad about yourself like that.” Looking down, she shook her head. “Honestly? I don’t know. I guess it’s programmed in me or something.” “Look at yourself, Samantha. Look at how beautiful you are.” Still, she wouldn’t look at herself. I’d noticed that. She could look at me in the mirror, but she couldn’t look at herself. Instead, she looked down at the clothes as if that were enough. “No. I want you to look at yourself in the mirror,” I said, lifting her chin so she could see. She pulled away, turning her head and looking down again. My finger slipped around

her chin and down her neck. I felt her strong pulse banging against my fingertip. “You’re supposed to look in it, not down,” I said, tilting her chin higher so she was able to see herself. Again, she turned away. “This is ridiculous, Roman.” She gave a fake chuckle. “I know how to look in a mirror.” “Is that so?” I asked. “Then how come you’re not doing it? In fact, you’re doing everything but looking in this mirror.” And she was. Now that she wasn’t looking at me, her eyes were all over the room, as if seeing her reflection would disgust her. I pressed her closer to the mirror and, again, she pulled away and turned her head. “Look in the mirror, Samantha,” I said sternly. She closed her eyes and sighed in aggravation. “Again, I’d like to say for the record that this is ridiculous.” Still, she hadn’t looked into the mirror. “Fine,” I said softer. “It’s ridiculous, but please just try it. For me.” Her eyes clashed with mine in the mirror and held, knocking the air from me again and making me look away. Finally, she adjusted her eyes and stared in the mirror at herself. The happiness in her eyes from before slowly drifted away and I felt the loss. I felt like kicking myself for making her smile melt away. “What do you see?” I asked. I knew what I saw, and it was a woman in her prime. A woman waiting to be released from her pent-up shell of boredom. I saw a woman… period—soft and sweet with curves I’d love to skim with my fingers. A woman so sweet and innocent that she still blushed. One that longed for her husband’s touch and begged with her eyes for even an ounce of attention from anyone. “Don’t do this to me,” she whispered sadly. Her shoulders were tense again. Her face strained. “Don’t do what?” My voice broke. The room was too quiet around us. The sounds of her breathing too loud. An intimacy I hadn’t expected bloomed from the moment. “Don’t make me say what I see.” I wanted to hear her response more than ever. Maybe it was selfish of me to put her through this. Especially since she was begging so sweetly, but it needed to be done. She needed to know there was so much more in that mirror. Something men like myself would give everything for.

“Tell me what you see,” I repeated. A tear slipped down her cheek, taking a small piece of my heart with it. “I see a girl who can’t keep her husband happy, and an old woman who wishes she could be as beautiful as the girls her husband desires.” Another tear fell. “I see someone whose husband hasn’t touched her in over a year because she’s too disgusting.” Before I could stop her, she started for the door. Quickly, I grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She collapsed into me, crying into my chest. And even though I knew it was wrong, I turned her away from the mirror and held her as she cried. I buried my face into her hair and took a deep breath. Her scent filled me, and I knew I was the lowest of the low in that moment. There she was, having a breakthrough, and there I was, taking her moment and selfishly breathing her in. The feel of her in my arms was amazing. I never wanted to let her go, but I had to. She wasn’t mine to keep. She’d never be mine. I turned my head to the side as I held her, looking at us in the mirror. We were pushed together tightly as she clung to me. She’d stopped crying, but she still held on tight. My eyes dragged from her long, blonde hair and down over her body. That was when I saw it. A nasty, black bruise marked the top of her arm. The obvious imprint of fingers marred her beautiful skin, and anger I’d never felt before struck me deep. Pulling away and forgetting all about her earlier tears, I touched her arm and she flinched. My eyes moved to hers to see her reaction, but there was none. Instead, I looked down into a pair of reddened eyes full of hurt and embarrassment. “Who did this?” I asked, running my finger over her bruise once more. She tensed before a forced grin covered her lips. “No one. Just me being clumsy again,” she responded. A lie. She was lying to me, and I knew it. I could see it in the tightness of her smile, in the tenseness of her eyes. That bastard had bruised her, and while I’d do anything to make sure Samantha was happy, I would not sit by and let her get abused by the man she loved. I pulled away. “We need to get back. I have an appointment in an hour,” I lied. The truth was that I couldn’t stand looking at her bruise anymore. The truth was that I needed to get out of the small space before I erupted. The truth was that I loved Samantha… and I’d hurt anyone who hurt her.



ROMAN’S PROCEDURE ONLY worked when I was with him. He was building my confidence. When I was with him, I smiled more. I was happier, which was something I tried to keep tucked away in the back of my mind. After his sweet words in the dressing room, I felt like I could take on the world. Roman thought I was beautiful. He’d said it before, but something about the way he said it the last time made me feel like he was telling the truth. I felt it in the way he treated me— in the way he looked at me. I needed everything he was giving me, but I had to remember that I needed those things from Michael, not Roman. After leaving Roman’s car when we got back to his office, I got in my car and went back to the boutique. The saleslady helped me pick out a few things that looked ‘sexy’ on me, and I left there with a bag of goodies that I fully planned on wearing for Michael. I lugged my bags into my house and dropped them with a sigh. Tossing my purse on the table next to the front door, I made my way up the stairs to my bedroom to start digging through my bags. “Where have you been?” Michael asked from behind me. I turned to find him standing in our bedroom doorway, his brows pulled down in anger. “I did some shopping,” I said, turning away to continue to pull out my new clothes. I could practically feel his eye roll behind my back before I heard him sigh. Then he was beside me, lifting a pair of black lace panties up after I’d pulled them out of the bag. “Trying again, I see,” he murmured. It was then I noticed there was a slight slur to his words. I turned to look up at him to see that his eyes were glazed over. He had been nursing his scotch bottle already today, which had to mean he’d lost a case. Tugging on the sleeves of his expensive coat, he adjusted his tie. He looked nice, but I wasn’t about to waste my breath telling him that. I could tell by the look on his face he already knew it anyway. For the first time in a long while, I found him unattractive. The knowing smirk on his face and his perfectly gelled hair was kind of embarrassing. Roman, on the other hand, had a sweet smile—one with dimples and honesty. His hair was never perfect, but the tousled style was attractive on him. He wasn’t perfectly shaved, and the memory of his rough cheek against mine in the back of his limo made me shiver. Suddenly, I had no desire to dress pretty for Michael. Why couldn’t he love me just the way I was? Why couldn’t he be turned on by me without me having to jump through hoops?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not trying anything.” Stepping around him, I slid against the wall and walked away. He followed me down the stairs, right on my heels. I entered the kitchen and ruffled Duke’s head before I turned to find him standing there with his hands on his hips. “What’s going on with you?” he asked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said honestly. There was nothing going on with me. I was simply getting tired of trying when it came to him. Nothing I did changed anything anyway. What was the point? I was starting to have a hard time remembering exactly what I was fighting for. “No. You’re different. You never walk away from me that way, and if I’m being honest, I’m not sure I like it very much.” Again, I looked at him and again, he looked different to me. “Seriously, Michael. Don’t be such a child. You look like you were about to go somewhere important. Go. I’ll see if I can’t keep myself occupied while you’re gone.” I turned away from him. Opening the door to the refrigerator, I began searching for a bottle of water. “You aren’t going to at least ask where I’m going?” His voice echoed against the kitchen tile. There was a hint of insecurity in his voice that made him sound like his old self, but still, I was beginning to get annoyed. Any other time, he would leave without regard to me, but then again, wasn’t he doing exactly what I wanted him to do? Standing, I shut the refrigerator door and leaned against it. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Where are you going?” I asked. His eyes moved down my body before he looked me in the eye. It was a rare occurrence and any other time, I would have relished in his eye contact, but I couldn’t. I looked away, pretending to adjust my shirt. “Are you fucking someone else?” he asked abruptly. And there Michael was. I was wondering when he would come back to me. Looking up as if caught in the headlights, I stared at him, aghast. “Are you seriously asking me that again?” I countered. “Answer the question, Samantha.” He used his lawyer voice—his stern voice that rebuked any argument. “And what would you say if I was, huh?” I could hardly believe the words that were coming out of my mouth, but I enjoyed the response they garnered me. “It’s no secret you have your fair share of women. Why shouldn’t the same rules apply to me?” I was bluffing. Other men barely noticed me. With the exception of a kiss with Roman, that I was sure would never happen again, I was completely faithful.

Michael moved across the room to me and grabbed my arm. His fingers dug into my bicep, pinching my skin. Red flushed his cheeks and his nostrils flared. “You’re mine. You got that? Whoever he is, get rid of him or I will.” Was that a threat? It sounded like a threat, but I wasn’t sure. Of course, the irrational side of me flourished under his jealousy. What kind of sick woman was I? I couldn’t help but feel like his reaction meant he still cared about me. If the thought of another man’s hands on me was making him this crazy, he had to still love me. When he dropped my arm, I reached out and rubbed the spots where his fingers had dug. His eyes followed my movements and sorrow moved across his eyes before he spun on his heels, leaving me standing there alone in the kitchen, still clueless as to where he was going. That night, I pretended to be asleep when he got home. He walked by the bed, and the scent of women’s perfume broke my heart all over again. The shower water turned on, and the bathroom door closed quietly. A tiny tear rushed down my cheek before I fell asleep. THE NEXT MORNING when I woke up, Michael was already gone for the day. With new reserve, I went to my closet, pulling out the white dress I’d bought the day before. A sweet summer dress that pinched my waist and made me feel pretty. If Roman wanted me to wear something sexy, then I was going to wear something sexy. After showering and blow-drying my hair, I applied makeup and jewelry before slipping into the dress. I checked myself in the mirror once more before leaving. I didn’t technically have an appointment with Roman, but after smelling the women’s perfume on Michael the night before, and remembering all the sweet words Roman had said to me the day before, I was in the wrong state of mind. As I sat in the waiting room waiting to be called back, excitement worked its way into my chest. I couldn’t wait to see what Roman thought of my look. Michael had already made himself very clear that I looked ridiculous wearing such an outfit, but maybe that was just him trying to belittle me as usual. The new nurse put me in an actual room instead of Roman’s office. I didn’t know if it was because she was new or if it was because I hadn’t had an appointment, but either way, when I stepped in and saw the paper-covered bed, I felt heat on my cheeks. Once I was in the room, I peeled off my jacket. I was welcomed by silence as I waited impatiently for the familiar sound of his clipboard and his light knock on the door. I jumped and stood, adjusting my dress, when his knock rang throughout the room. I tensed when he stepped into the room. Keeping his eyes on his clipboard, he spoke. “Good morning, Samantha. I trust you’re doing well today?” And then he looked up, his eyes widening just a fraction as they slowly moved across

my face, down my body, and to my legs. I widened my stance instinctively, knowing that my dress would rise and show him some leg. I wasn’t sure what it was about Roman, but he made me feel brazen and brave. “Bloody hell,” he whispered to himself, his eyes moving their way back up to my face. His reaction made me nervous. Perhaps he thought the same things Michael did. Maybe he thought I was too old to wear a dress that was so sexy. I put my hands down to cover my legs a bit when my shyness slipped back in. “Is it that bad?” I asked. “You said I should wear things that made me feel sexy and pretty and well, this is…” “Completely delicious,” he interrupted. Heat enveloped my cheeks and moved through me. Quickly, he cleared his throat and went to his seat. He pulled on his white coat so that it covered the unmistakable bulge in his scrubs. “What I mean to say is, you look very nice, Samantha.” I loved how he said my name. He didn’t call me Sam, with contempt dripping from his lips the way Michael did. He said my name like I was someone, like my name felt good moving around his mouth. It turned me on in the strangest way. “Thank you,” I said. Taking a seat, I crossed my legs and placed my hands in my lap. I didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered to my legs again. “So how are things at home?” he asked. His question caught me off guard. It was weird for him to look at me the way he was and ask about my home life with my husband at the same time. “Uh, things are changing,” I said. His eye searched my face before he looked away and asked, “Changing how?” I explained to him everything that happened after I got home from shopping. I was honest about the entire event. His jaw twitched when I mentioned how Michael had grabbed my arm. I finished with how he’d come home smelling like another woman. I put my head down when I felt the tears rush to my eyes after the story. I was doing better, but I still felt embarrassed by the fact that my husband so openly cheated on me. I gasped when I felt his warm finger on my chin. He lifted my face up and looked down at me. “He’s an idiot, Samantha. Don’t you shed another tear for that man.” His finger moved up to wipe away the hot tear that leaked from my eye and made a run for my cheek. I nodded since my voice was trapped in my throat. His hand moved up, his fingers

getting lost in my hair, and I closed my eyes to his touch. His other hand cupped the side of my face and I nestled into his palm. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered down to me. And then he leaned down and kissed me. Gripping his hands, I kissed him back. Standing without breaking the kiss, I moved into his space, the heat of his body soothing me, and a manly moan worked its way into my mouth. When I opened to him, he swept his tongue into my mouth, the taste of him coating my tongue. My fingers tangled in his hair as I pulled his kiss deeper into me. I couldn’t get enough. He moved me until the back of my thighs collided with the bed. The paper covering the bed crinkled loudly as I pressed against it. Instinctively, I lifted my leg, allowing him to move between my legs. His hardness pressed against my white, lace panties. Pulling back, he cupped my cheeks and looked down at me with heavy breaths. “What are you doing to me?” he asked, confusion in his eyes. And then his lips came down onto mine again and, again, I opened for him. His hand released my face and cupped the back of my knee. Slowly, he worked his hand up my thigh and under my dress until he was squeezing my hip. My dress was riding up, giving him full view of my panties, but I didn’t care. Leaning back, he looked down and closed his eyes on a growl. Working my hands up his chest, I pushed his white coat from his shoulders, leaving him standing in front of me in just his blue scrubs. He looked so sexy. His hair fell into his eyes as he moved in again, kissing me harder and faster. I dug my nails into his back, and he softly nibbled my bottom lip. His hand moved around my hip until his fingers were teasing the side of my panties and making me crazy. “Is this okay?” he asked against my lips. I thrust my hips forward, begging him with my body to touch me. “Please, Roman.” And then he slipped his hand in the side of my panties and ran his knuckles over me. Already, I felt as if I were about to explode. So long. It had been so long since I’d been touched that way—since my body had been so wet and ready. Breaking the kiss again, I leaned my head back and moaned his name. My legs fell open for him, and the only sounds in the room were our hard and fast breaths. Outside the room, it was business as usual, but inside, the heat was on high and I was about to break a vow I made nine years ago. Still, I couldn’t find any remorse for the moment. It was too right—felt too good. His thumb brushed my clit, and I bit into my lip so hard I was afraid I’d taste blood. “You’re so wet, love,” he whispered against the side of my neck before sucking the soft skin in between his teeth. “Tell me what you want, Samantha.”

As soon as he asked, he delved two thick fingers deep inside of me, making me lift from the bed and thrust my hips once more. “I want…” I panted. I wanted him. On me. In me. All around me. I needed him. He worked his fingers in and out, circling my clit and drawing me into a frenzy. “You’re so small here,” he said, pressing his fingers in deeper. “When’s the last time?” he asked. I knew what he was asking, but my brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders. Opening my eyes, I looked up into his. “A year,” I squeaked. It was the answer he wanted. I could tell by the look of triumph on his face. “When’s the last time you came, love?” he asked. His thick accent dripped with need as he continuously plunged his fingers deep into me over and over again. When he picked up his pace, the sounds of my wet body filled the room—louder than our breaths. “So long…” I panted. Was that really me? The woman who sounded seductive and full of need couldn’t possibly be me, but it was. Roman brought her out of me and was holding her on a tight leash with his two long fingers. Reaching out, I pulled at the strings holding his scrubs up. I no longer cared about what was right or wrong. I wanted to feel him deep inside of me. I wanted to explode all around him the way I never had with Michael. He stopped me with his other hand and made a ticking noise with this tongue. “No, beautiful. Let me pleasure you.” He pressed his forehead to mine, his lips brushing mine occasionally as he continued to twirl my clit with his thumb and penetrate me with his fingers. His breath rushed against my lips and mine on his until I felt myself unraveling inside of my stomach. “So close,” I panted. “Please, Roman. So close.” He kissed me again and then responded, “Come on, love. I’ll catch you.” His words sent me over the edge. I cried out, and he quickly covered my mouth with his. I came hard and long, my body shaking against his as I moaned my release into his mouth. He continued his sweet torture until I was sure I couldn’t take anymore before he pulled his fingers from me. Cold air rushed in, filling me and making me shiver. My stomach ached from holding myself in that strange upright position, so I let go and collapsed with my back onto the bed.

I breathed deeply, trying to catch my breath, and felt the loss of him when he stepped away from me and went to the other side of the room for a box of tissues. When he held them out to me, I looked up to find his expression full of guilt. Reaching out, I plucked a few tissues from the box. Sitting up, I looked at him and saw a mix of emotions move over his face. He was regretting me, and I wasn’t sure I could handle being anyone else’s regret.



“FORGIVE ME,” I said out loud on a deep exhale. I was asking forgiveness from her and in general, for what I’d done. It was wrong. So bloody wrong, but she felt so amazing and smelled so sweet. Even afterward, the way her big, dark eyes were staring up at me, I wanted to push her back down and lose myself inside of her. But I couldn’t. I’d already let it go too far, and I knew that I had to quit seeing her. I was jeopardizing everything I’d worked so hard for. Samantha was a married woman. Unhappily married, but still married. I’d never been one to step on anyone’s toes, and there I was with my hand up her skirt and her sweet, honeyed juices on my fingertips. I didn’t even wait for her to say anything. Instead, I shoved my arms back in my coat and left the room. When I made it to my office, I shut the door behind me and leaned against it. Taking in big gulps of air, I breathed deep. I was still sporting a raging hard-on for Samantha, and no matter how hard I tried to take my mind off her, she was everywhere. The quiet, shy woman was gone in an instant and in her stead was a seductress. She moaned and moved against my hand like her life depended on it. I’d never get her face out of my mind. The way she looked when she came apart in my hands. Her mouth open in ecstasy and her eyes closed as if the sweet torture was too much for her. TWO DAYS LATER, and I still couldn’t get Samantha off my mind. I’d spend my days at work, seeing patients and doing surgeries, and then I’d go home and take a hot shower with her on my mind and my cock in my hand. But worse than that, I was starting to get jealous. Just thinking about her going home to Michael would make me crazy. Thinking of her sleeping with him would put me in a rage that I hadn’t felt since I was a young boy. He wasn’t good enough for her, but then again, neither was I. I was a wretch who put his hands all over another man’s wife. “So how are we feeling today, Miss Tori?” I asked as I reached out and ruffled her dark hair. She smiled up at me, gauze hiding half of her face. “Today’s been a good day,” her mother said, exhausted. It wasn’t fair. Such a young soul going through so much. It hurt every time I visited her, but I couldn’t help myself. She reminded me so much of my little sister. It was one of the main reasons I’d agreed to do her surgeries, even knowing the risk that came with them.

My sister, Rachel, was in an accident when she was four. My mother had a hot teapot on the stove, and my sister pulled it over on herself. The right side of her face was burned pretty badly, and she was left with a terrible amount of scars. She grew up just like any other kid, but once she got up in age, the kids became cruel. I could remember her begging our father to take her to a plastic surgeon. We had the money to have any surgeries she might have needed, but Father simply said it was unneeded. It was needed. Rachel wanted to look like everyone else. She used to cry about how mean the kids were and the things they’d say. Until finally, when she was seventeen, she couldn’t take it anymore. Finding your baby sister dead on her bedroom floor wasn’t something you ever got over. I decided then that when I was done with school, I’d go to university for plastic surgery. I swore that I’d always help those in need. Samantha Aldridge wasn’t in need—she was beyond perfect, but she wanted. She wanted her husband to look at her the way he looked at other women. She wanted to be someone she wasn’t, and I couldn’t, no matter how much she had begged, even think about the possibility of changing her. After doing surgery, and visiting Tori afterward, I washed up and went back to my office. STEIN CONVINCED ME to attend another gala, and I grudgingly went. Charity benefits and things of that nature I was totally fine with attending, but going somewhere to watch rich people try to outdo each other in groups was always such a bore. Sitting at the bar, I ordered another drink and smiled at the bartender. She was a nice lady, and I could tell she didn’t want to be there anymore than I did. “Thank you, love,” I said, taking a sip from my glass and watching the light blush run up her cheeks. Turning to face the crowd, my eyes landed on Michael Aldridge. He was in his usual spot among the masses, making a group laugh at whatever he was saying. A young brunette moved up beside him, and I watched as he whispered something sweetly in her ear. She licked her lips and smiled before stepping away. The bloody bastard. I wasn’t sure if it was the drinks or everything from the last few weeks pushing against my back, but I moved in his direction. He turned to face me when I moved up next to him, and his eyes sized me up. “Can I speak with you for a minute, Michael?” I asked politely.

Distrust moved over his eyes before he turned back to his audience, grabbed his drink, and stepped away. We moved to the bar, where he silently ordered another drink with a flick of his finger. “What can I do for you, Blake?” he asked, aggravation thick in his voice. “Well, you can start by keeping your hands off Samantha,” I said sternly. I took a swallow from my drink, my eyes staying on his above the glass. Red marked his cheeks, and his brows pulled down. “Excuse me?” he asked innocently. “Don’t play stupid with me. I ran into Samantha the other day, and I saw the bruise on her arm. The funny thing is that it looked remarkably like a man’s fingerprints.” He adjusted his tie and took a big gulp from his drink. Before he could say anything, I continued. “It’s no secret the kind of life you lead, Michael. Different women without regard for your wife. Your admirers over there look up to you, but we real men know the truth.” “And what truth is that?” he asked. “You’re a piece of shit who isn’t good enough to kiss your wife’s toes, much less her lips. However, your relationship with you wife is none of my business.” “You’re right. It’s not,” he responded. The fact that he hadn’t denied my accusations about Samantha’s bruises didn’t go unnoticed. “Do what you will with your little whores, but make sure you keep your hands off her. Got it?” I didn’t wait for him to respond. Instead, I stepped away from the bar and made my way across the room to Stein and a group of my colleagues. I felt her eyes on me from where I stood, but I kept my eyes fixed on Stein as he spoke of his latest patient and her procedures. Even though I tried to keep my eyes to myself, they instinctively roamed across the crowd looking for Samantha. And then I saw her. She was moving across the room toward the alcove that housed the bathrooms. Her dress was low, showing off her elegant back. Squeezing my fist, I closed my eyes and imagined kissing my way down her back and slowly undressing her. I had yet to see her completely naked, but I could only imagine how glorious she looked. Setting down my drink, I left the group and made my way across the room just as she disappeared around the corner. Already, my pants were feeling tight. Just thinking about being near her was getting me hard. She had woven some strange spell over me. It was the only way I could describe how she made me feel. Stepping around the corner, I found her standing there, waiting. Her skin glowed under the overhead lighting. Without a second thought, I reached for her without care of who

would see.



I DIDN’T REALLY have to use the bathroom, but I couldn’t sit there anymore and watch Roman. Not when everything inside of me begged to be near him. I’d even turned my head without care when Michael was openly flirting as usual. The fact was that I didn’t care what he was doing anymore. Leaving the stifling space and being away from where I could see Roman, I felt as if I could breathe better. I pulled on the bathroom door, only to find it locked. So I stood there and waited. That was when I felt the familiar touch of Roman’s fingers across my back. He worked them up my arm slowly, goose bumps following his fingers like a wave in the ocean. Closing my eyes, I took the moment in… relishing in the touch of another human being. When he reached my shoulder, he cupped it with his warm palm before softly massaging. His other hand followed on my other shoulder, his hot breath tickling the back of my neck. “Samantha.” My name rushed past my ear. At first, I couldn’t respond, but once I was able to make my vocal chords move, the only sound that came out was, “Hmmm.” “You should tell me to stop,” he said. The thought of him stopping was unbearable. My body begged for his touch—my center was molten lava and ready to erupt. I hadn’t felt so connected to another person in so many years, and I wasn’t ready to let that feeling go. “No.” My voice was stern. “No? Why not?” he asked. Using his own words against him, I said, “Because I deserve this.” A soft chuckle lifted the hairs on the back of my neck, making me shiver. “Is that so?” “Uh-huh.” “Well, in that case, what else do you deserve?” Turning in his arms, I crushed myself to him. He leaned down at that exact moment to press his lips to mine. His tongue swept across mine, filling my mouth with his taste and the drinks he’d had at the bar. Instantly, I felt drunk on him. He moved me against the wall as he slowly began lifting my long dress. Anyone could have walked into the alcove at any time. Not to mention there was a lady in the bathroom who could have stepped out, as well. Everyone knew I was Michael’s wife, and they also

knew that Roman wasn’t Michael. Pushing against him, I looked around the alcove for a place for us to go. Spotting a third door, I pulled him with me. “In here,” I said, pushing the door open and pulling him into a second celebration space. The door slammed loudly behind us. Roman shoved his hands into my hair, pins flying, like a man possessed as he began to kiss me again. “I can’t…” he started with heavy breaths. “I can’t get enough of you.” Again, he began moving my dress up until the hem was resting just below my hips. With the dress out of the way, I was able to wrap a leg around his hip. He took the opportunity to press himself into me, making me break the kiss to release a sigh of pleasure. He shifted, lifting me like I weighed nothing, onto a cloth-covered table. The unused table wear jingled loudly. Reaching down between us, I went to work on his button and zipper. I wanted him. No, I needed him. When I pushed down his pants and boxers, he sprang free into my hand, warming my palm with his hardness. He threw his head back on a hiss before planting hard kisses down the side of my neck. I moved my hand over him, his breath shaky against my neck. “Samantha,” he whispered. “Don’t stop, love.” I hadn’t planned on it, but I was sick to death with being teased. I was very married, and I knew it was so wrong, but I wanted him. I needed to feel him inside of me. A hand job wasn’t on the menu tonight—I was. “No. I want you, Roman,” I said, my voice full of need. He leaned back and looked into my eyes as if to make sure I was positive I knew what I was saying, and then he nodded his agreement. Reaching down, he pushed his fingers inside the side of my panties before ripping them from my body and stuffing them in his coat pocket. “Forgive me,” he said out loud to no one. Then he moved between my legs and positioned himself at my entrance. Suddenly, the door flew open and a staff member walked in. Thankfully, we were in the darkness and had time to adjust ourselves before he could see us. “You can’t be in here,” the guy said as he flipped on a switch, swathing the room in golden light. Grabbing my hand, Roman pulled me toward the door. “Our apologies,” he said as we passed the guy. Once we were in front of the bathrooms again, he pulled me to him long enough to whisper in my ear. “Mama Maria’s. Tomorrow at noon. Meet me there.”

And then he walked back into the ballroom with the stride of a man on a mission and my panties in his pocket. THAT NIGHT, I went home alone. Michael never came home, and I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I hated it, but after so long with him being the way he was, I decided I no longer cared about what he did or who he did it with. Either I’d really hit my breaking point, or I was falling for Roman. Either scenario was a bad one. The following day, I sat at a quiet table in the corner of Mama Maria’s and waited for Roman. I was excited to see him and after the way things had been between us the last couple of times we met, I figured it was time I found out exactly what it was we were doing. The minute he walked in, my eyes were on him. He looked sexy in a pair of dark denim jeans and a button-up shirt. It was a major change from his usual doctor wear or suit. His hair was untamed as usual and his whiskey-colored eyes sparkled when they met mine from across the room. My breathing accelerated when he came my way, slipping by tables without taking his eyes away from mine. A knowing grin stretched his thick lips, making his dimples pop, as he sat across from me. “I’ll have whatever the lady is having,” he said to the waitress when she stopped by the table. The waitress blushed with his words. Apparently, I wasn’t the only woman in the room who thought Roman’s British accent and good looks were a complete turn on. Once the waitress left us, Roman sat in silence while he stared at me. I turned my head and tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear. His eyes followed my movements, making me nervous. My many faults moved to the front of my mind, and I tried to figure out which one of them he was noticing. “You’re staring.” I stated the obvious. Another wicked grin worked its way across his lips as he sat back in the booth, throwing an arm over the back. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to help myself with you.” Again, his eyes devoured my face, and I felt the rush of heat move onto my cheeks. I was thinking maybe we would come to lunch and pretend that the few times we had touched each other had never happened, but apparently, Roman had other plans. “Don’t apologize. It makes me a bit nervous, but I like that you like looking at me,” I said into my glass of water before I took a quick, refreshing swig. My throat was dry with nerves, and my pulse was banging hard and fast in my ears.

“I don’t like it.” Embarrassment crept in. I’d spoken too soon. I always felt more confident when I was with Roman. He was always such a sweetheart that I hadn’t even considered the fact that he was being rude. “I love it,” he said in a whisper as he leaned across the table, reaching for my hand. His warm fingers enveloped mine, sending sparks up my arm and down into my core. “I love looking at you. The responses I get from you. You’re so sexy, and you’re clueless to it.” Heat moved over me. I’d never felt more wanted. Not even when Michael and I had first started dating. He was always so slow to touch or compliment, but Roman laid it all on the table, and I was reaching for his words in total desperation. I loved every minute of his flirting. It was different from when we originally started, but I couldn’t deny he made me feel womanly. I looked up at him from beneath my lashes and smiled. The room around us blurred and in that moment, there was only us. Roman and Samantha. It was completely against the rules. It was breaking several of the commandments, but I couldn’t stop myself from feeling the way I felt, and I didn’t want to stop him from looking at me the way he was. The waitress stopped at the table, breaking us from our spell, and sat his food in front of him. Still, he looked at me over her while she worked. I could practically hear his thoughts. He wanted to get out of there. He wanted to take me back to his office and throw me over his desk. And I couldn’t lie to myself. I wanted those things, too. As soon as the waitress left, he moved his food to the side and reached out to take my hands. “Go away with me this weekend,” he said, effectively changing the game and adding his own rules. “What?” I choked. “I have to go to New York this weekend for a conference. Go with me.” Going away for the weekend was a massive step. I had to decide what I wanted to do before then. Did I want to make my marriage with Michael work? Because if I did, there was no way I was going away for the weekend for what was sure to be mind-blowing sex. But if I decided that what Michael and I had was long gone, a weekend of mind-blowing sex with Roman was exactly what I needed. My mouth started before my mind was done drawing its conclusions, making the decision for me. “When do we leave?” The words slipped from my lips, shocking not only Roman, but me as well. His grin was sexually charged and sinful. “Tomorrow.”

MICHAEL’S CAR WAS in the garage, but the house was empty when I got home. Except for Duke, who nearly toppled me over when I came through the front door. He jumped on me, bathing my face with dog kisses. “Down, Duke,” I chuckled. Now that I wasn’t in front of Roman and completely mesmerized by his smile and eyes, my decision was looming over me. I couldn’t go away for the weekend with another man. I was a married woman. Even if I decided to leave Michael, which was in the back of my head, I was at least decent enough to wait until we were legally separated before I got in bed with another man. Moving up the stairs, I slipped off my shoes and dangled them from my fingertips as I took each step at a fast pace. Ever since I’d gone running in the park with Roman and I saw how therapeutic it was, I’d gone every day at least once. I need to run in that moment. I needed to think. Reaching up, I ripped my hair from its bun and ran my fingers through my strands. I was going to change into something comfortable and run until I figured out how to get out of the ridiculous decision I’d made. Throwing open the door, I was met with Michael and a raven-haired beauty going at it in our bed and, sadly, I wasn’t the least bit shocked. Moving across the room, not even bothering to disturb them, I pulled open my closet door and reached for my suitcase. There was no need for running. My original decision was the correct one. What I had with Michael was gone, and I was no longer worried about what I was doing while I was married to him. He obviously didn’t give two shits about our marriage or me. The bed creaked, and all the movement in the room stopped. I heard their bare feet on the hardwood behind me in frantic movements, but I ignored it as I tossed all the clothes I’d need and more into my suitcase. “Sam? What are you doing?” Michael asked from behind me. There was a hint of panic in his voice, but I ignored it. I was no longer going to make out things in my mind that weren’t there. “Packing,” I simply stated. My words weren’t angry because honestly, I wasn’t mad. I didn’t care, and I knew in that moment that any love I had for Michael over the years was thoroughly squashed. He’d done it. This wasn’t my fault. I had done everything I could to save what we had, but it was obvious he did not intend to do the same. We were over. I’d go with Roman and have a weekend away having what I hoped was amazing and much-needed sex, and then I’d come home and deal with the rest. “I can see that, but why?” he asked. Swinging around, I burst into laughter as if I’d just heart the funniest joke. It was the laugh of a crazy woman who had snapped.

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked. My eyes moved around the room, seeing that the dark-haired beauty was long gone. The bed was a mess and when I closed my eyes, I could see his face in rapture as he slammed his body into hers. And then a calm moved over him, and a cocky grin moved across his face. “We both know you’re not going anywhere. Quit being ridiculous and let’s talk about this.” Again, I laughed out loud. The entire situation was completely ridiculous and hilarious. I had been so dead set on fixing what was wrong with me to save our marriage, but for the first time, I could see that the problem was never me. Michael was the one in need of fixing… not me. I was far from perfect, but I was still me. Maybe a little more confident, thanks to Roman, but I was still me. “There’s nothing to talk about.” And there wasn’t. Turning away, I continued to pack my clothes and a few personal things. “Samantha?” His voice sounded unsure, and I had to shake myself. It had been so long since he’d spoken my full name in the way he had. It was full of need and love, but I knew it was a sham. I was doing the right thing. I couldn’t back out now. “Yeah?” And then he managed to shock me once again. “If you leave, don’t come back,” he said. All the loving emotion had disappeared from his voice just that quickly. My resolve built itself back up. Turning on him with a freeing smile, I nodded. “Don’t worry. I didn’t plan on it.” Slamming my suitcase together, I slipped my shoes back on and started toward the door. “I’ll have Duke put in a kennel until I return. I’ll be by next week to get the rest of my things.” And then I walked out and shut the door behind me without looking back.



AS I PACKED for the weekend, my mind was racing a hundred miles per hour. I was going to go straight to hell where I’d burn for eternity. And I wasn’t talking about the kind of burning I did for Samantha. What I was doing was wrong, but I couldn’t manage to stop myself. She was like a beacon. No matter how hard I tried to stay away, I was drawn in. There was no doubt in my mind that I was madly in love with her. And since my emotions for her were so strong, I naturally wanted her. Even though I knew wanting her was wrong and I was breaking one of my biggest rules, I couldn’t stop myself. Asking her to spend the weekend with me was completely spontaneous. She was sitting across from me, looking beautiful as usual, and I knew I had to leave her for the weekend. The thought of being away from her for even two days was unbearable. The words tumbled out of my mouth, shocking me and really shocking her. Her big, brown eyes had grew before my eyes and even though I thought in that moment that she would decline, she shocked me even more when she easily agreed to go away with me. Apparently, we were on the same page, and that filled me with a happiness I hadn’t felt in a very long time. I had no expectations or plans for the weekend. I wasn’t some devious wretch who had a weekend of sex and debauchery planned. I was simply going to go with the flow. Let the chips fall where they may. It wasn’t in my usual style to let whatever happened, happen, but that was my plan as I loaded up my car and locked up behind myself. Samantha was so vulnerable. I was determined not to be like Michael and force things on her, especially my feelings and emotions, but if things happened naturally, then we would cross that bridge when we got to it. All I knew for sure as I drove across town to meet her was that she was too good for a man like Michael, and I loved her enough to fight for her. I wanted to spend the weekend showing her how a woman was supposed to be treated, and I wanted to do it as a man, not a doctor. It took me less than twenty minutes to meet Samantha at the kennel she was dropping Duke off at. She had called me the night before and told me she didn’t feel comfortable leaving her new pet with Michael. Honestly, I didn’t trust the arsehole either. I could easily see him tossing Duke from an overpass or something equally disturbing. She was waiting for me outside when I pulled up. Her yellow summer dress moved around her legs in the breeze, giving me a peek of her perfectly shaped calves and knees. Her dainty feet were covered by silver sandals and her toes were painted. She had taken the time to look nice, and it made me feel manly and desperate to touch her. Getting out of the car, I hid my desire behind the darkened sunglasses that were

perched on my nose. Walking around the car to her side, a smile made my cheeks ache. That smile dissolved the minute I reached her and my shade-covered eyes found hers. Something was wrong. Her eyes were strained, and she was fidgeting with nerves. She had her hands gripped so tightly in front of her that her fingers were turning white. Reaching out, I covered her hands with mine. Her cool fingers melted beneath my heated palms. “What’s wrong?” I asked immediately. She moved her hands, so I busied myself with her bags. Shaking her head, she began to deny that something was bothering her. She wasn’t being honest. I had come to know her well, and I knew from the reddened streaks on her cheeks and the soft, puffy glow around her eyes that she had cried recently. “Nothing,” she supplied with a false smile. “You’ve been crying,” I said. Reaching up, I moved my thumb under her eye before curving my hand around her soft cheek. She smiled and nuzzled my palm with a sigh, sending sparks down to my toes. “I’m just sad about leaving Duke. I don’t want him to think I’m abandoning him. Do you think he will?” I knew that wasn’t the real reason why she was upset, but since I didn’t want to pry until she was ready to tell me, I went along with it. “Of course not, love. And it’s only for a few days. He’ll be so excited to see you when you get back that he’ll forget about everything else.” She nodded in agreement. “You’re right. That makes me feel better.” I smiled and brought my other hand to cup her other cheek, pulling her close and placing a kiss on her head. Resting my forehead against hers, I took a minute to breathe her in. Her hands found my sides and her fingers flexed, pressing deeper in my shirt, heating my flesh. I wanted to kiss her sweet lips, but if I didn’t take this slow with Samantha, the weekend would fly by way too fast. That was the last thing I wanted to happen. I wanted to relish in the uninterrupted hours with her. Pulling back, I lifted her face and smiled down at her. “You ready to go?” I asked. Closing her eyes against the sun, she smiled sweetly up at me. “Very ready. It’ll be nice to get out of Miami for the weekend. It’s been so long since I went anywhere with…” She stopped, and her eyes flashed open apologetically. I never wanted her to feel bad about anything with me. She could do no wrong by being comfortable enough to speak candidly with me. Honestly was the foundation for any relationship, be it friends or lovers. “It’s okay, love.” “I need to stop doing that. I don’t want to talk about Michael anymore this entire

weekend.” “I think we can handle that.” I smiled and turned to open the passenger door for her. Not mentioning his name meant keeping my guilt to a minimum. Out of sight, out of mind—that was my personal quote for the weekend. She thanked me and slid into the seat. When she pulled the seatbelt down and around her, her dress dropped low, showing a tiny bit of cleavage. I moved my eyes and again, they landed on her flesh. I tried not to notice the way the thin material of her sundress rode up her thighs, but it was like taking a bullet to the chest. Shutting the door, I made my way around the car and got in. The engine hummed when I started it up. When I put it in drive and pulled away, it purred. “Say goodbye to Miami,” I said, changing gears before resting my hand over hers. She took a deep breath before looking out of the window. Some unknown emotion moved across her face before she whispered, “Goodbye.” WE DROVE TO Miami International Airport in silence. I was starting to feel anxious about asking her to come along, and I was worried that maybe she was slowly changing her mind. Not to mention, I positive there was something more than just Duke bothering her, and I was worried that maybe that something was being with me. She was staring out of the window. The music on the radio filled the thick silence, but it wasn’t music I wanted to hear. I wanted her to talk to me—to trust me enough to know she could. I wanted her voice to move across the car and stroke my nerves, but she didn’t speak. “A penny for your thoughts, love.” I broke the impenetrable quiet. Samantha rolled her head in my direction and smiled at me. “I was thinking how pretty this drive was. My mother would have loved this view. She used to talk about coming to Miami and enjoying the sunlight, but she died before she ever had a chance to see it.” “How did she die?” I asked before silently hating myself for doing so. She was upset. The last thing I wanted to do was make her even more so. “Breast cancer. She died when I was eight.” Her somber voice cracked with hurt, effectively cutting into me, as well. “Were the two of you close?” She nodded, her blonde strands whispering across her tan shoulders. “I was the only child, so I was my parents’ pride and joy, their baby girl. I could always count on them both.” My eyes moved to the road before moving back to her profile. “Then we found out she had stage-four breast cancer, and life seemed to halt in front

of my eyes. I sat and watched her deteriorate, and then she died six months later. Time didn’t move again until after she was gone. After she passed, my dad took on the role of both parents. Before we knew it, I was nineteen and moving away with Michael. I didn’t see my dad again until he called to let me know he was dying, too.” She stared at the windshield as if her memories were playing in movie form across the thick glass. Her hands were restless in her lap, and I wanted nothing more than to stop the car, pull her into my arms, and comfort her. Instead, I leaned over and took her hand in mine. Despite the warm afternoon, her hands were ice cold. She stared down at our hands before turning to look at me and smile. “Thank you.” “For?” I knew I hadn’t done anything. “For being here. For making me see that I’m still a whole person.” “It was my pleasure, Samantha.” I squeezed her hand tightly. I wanted to tell her how she had changed me too. I wasn’t the same man I was when she first stepped foot into my office. I wasn’t the gentleman doctor who put everyone else first. I was a man burning with love for a woman who wasn’t mine. I was also the man who no longer cared about boundaries. Because when it came to Samantha, I’d tear them all down to be near her. Words of love danced across my tongue, but I knew it was the wrong time no matter how loudly my heart screamed it. It needed to be at the right time, or never at all. We were on a flight headed to New York within two hours. My body melted into the first-class seat, and I was happy to see Samantha relaxing next to me. The strain on her face earlier was gone, replaced with a content smile as she stared out of the window and into the clouds. Again, pressure and worry that she was having second thoughts about what she was doing with me moved across my chest. I took a deep breath and tried to stop my racing thoughts. For all I knew, something could have happened with Michael before she left. And while it was on the tip of my tongue to ask, I knew I couldn’t do so because my reason for wanting to know was completely selfish. Samantha slept through most of the flight. Her soft breathing filled my side, and I couldn’t help but look at her. She was angelic. Her soft lips parted and her cheeks flushed with sleep. Her long lashes rested against her cheeks, fluttering occasionally. Leaning over, I placed a soft kiss on her cheek before I pulled out my files and began preparing for a speech I was signed up to give the following day. There was a car waiting at the airport to take us to our hotel. The hospital board had arranged everything for me and my guest, including the hotel arrangements, so everything ran like clockwork from the driver to the ride over to the hotel. I placed my hand on the small of Samantha’s back as we made our way to the front desk. Our luggage was taken care of for us, so she carried only her small purse. My eyes

followed the strap over her beautiful shoulder and down until I had to look away. The attendant behind the desk noticed and smiled at me knowingly. “How can I help you, sir?” “I have a reservation for Dr. Roman Blake.” Her fingers were quick as they moved over the keyboard and with a few clicks of her mouse, she found me. “I have you right here, Dr. Blake. You’re on the eighth floor. I’ll have your bags delivered to your room.” I took the room key she handed me and smiled at her before turning stepping back toward Samantha. “Ready?” I asked. Samantha blinked, confused at first, and then she snuck a look at the desk clerk, who was looking back and forth between the two of us. A pretty pink blush covered her cheeks before she moved closer to the counter. “I have to check in, too,” she said to the clerk. I was momentarily confused, and then I felt my own skin flush. I hadn’t realized Samantha had gotten her own room. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when we finally made it to the hotel. Had I really just assumed she would share a room with me? “Of course.” I chuckled, trying to ease everyone’s embarrassment. Placing her purse on the counter, she gave the woman her name. “Samantha… Aldridge.” The slight hesitation in Samantha made the woman look up and give me quick glance before she was typing again. She chewed the side of her mouth before she looked up with a smile. “Looks like they put you on the fifth floor, Mrs. Aldridge.” “That’s fine,” Samantha rushed. I didn’t have to see her face to know she was red. Her shoulders were stiff, her back straight. “Actually we have a room available on the eighth floor, but it’s a couple of doors down from Dr. Blake.” I wanted to lean over the counter and kiss her for giving me what I wanted. When she looked my way, I gave her a wink, making her blush. “Honestly, it’s okay. I don’t want to make any more work for you,” Samantha continued. Again, the clerk smiled. “It’s not a problem at all, Mrs. Aldridge.” She typed some more. “There. All taken care of.” She handed Samantha a key card, and then Samantha turned toward me with an

awkward smile on her face. “Are you ready?” she asked. Her eyes looked everywhere but my face, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Yes. They’re going to bring our luggage up to our room.” I realized my mistake again and almost choked on my words. Clearing my throat, I tried again. “Our rooms, I mean.” Still, she refused to look me in the eye. “Okay,” she said, nibbling nervously on her bottom lip and giving me an actual physical reaction. Shaking myself, I took a deep breath. “After you.” I motioned for her to go in front of me. The trip had taken a turn for the awkward, and I was desperate to get it back on the right track It took ten minutes to get to the eighth floor and not once in that entire time were we alone. There were too many damn people in New York. Stepping off the elevator, I walked Samantha to her room before going to mine. The conference wasn’t until the following day, and it was still early. We had an entire night to spend together and regardless of how nervous she obviously was, I wasn’t about to miss my chance to spend time with her. “Samantha.” I stopped her with a hand on her shoulder before she could go into her room. She turned toward me and finally met my eyes. “Yeah?” “Would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?” I made sure to ask as if it were a date. It was time I made it clear what my intentions were with her. Her face lit up, and a knowing smile pulled at her pink lips. “Pick me up at seven?” she asked. Reaching out, I tucked her hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek. “I’ll be here.



FALLING FACE-FIRST onto the bed, I moaned loudly into the smell of freshly washed sheets. The entire trip so far had been nothing if not awkward. I wasn’t sure what it was we were doing, but I was positive it wasn’t supposed to be happening this way. Rolling onto my back, I stared at the tall ceiling and took a deep breath. I had an hour to get ready for dinner with Roman, and already, my body was tingling with anticipation. The man was making me crazy. Even though I’d spent most of the day in a daze, trying to figure out what I was going to do with my life when I got back to Miami, I was always aware of him. My body craved him, and I didn’t know how to handle that. I’d never felt something even remotely like it in my life. Once my luggage came, I pulled out a dress worthy of a date, since he’d asked me as if it were a date, and I took the entire hour showering and getting dressed. Once everything was done, I slipped on my beige dress, sheer in the back, and put in a pair of earrings to compliment it. I was slipping on my heels when there was a light tap on the door. Smoothing down my dress and checking my hair in the mirror by the door, I opened it to find Roman standing there looking delicious. His navy, three-piece suit was perfectly pressed as if he hadn’t traveled from Miami to New York. His hair had the naturally tousled look as if he’d had a stressful day at the office and couldn’t manage to keep his hands out of it. I loved it, and the urge to tug on it was strong. Looking into his whiskey-colored eyes, I lost myself and all the thoughts I’d had prior to opening the door. He grinned down at me as if he could hear my thoughts. “You look stunning,” he said, reaching out and running a finger across my bare shoulder. Chills rushed down my body, making the baby hairs at the nape of my neck tingle. “So do you.” And it was the truth. Roman Blake was a beautiful man, inside and out, and having his eyes all over me was almost too much to bear. I could practically feel them as they moved over my dress and down my legs. The touch was soft and thrilling… sexy. “Shall we?” he asked with a lifted brow. Grabbing my purse from the table beside the door, I let the door close and took the arm he was offering. He smelled like soap and sunshine and when he wasn’t looking, I let my face brush across his arm as I inhaled him. When we reached the elevator, he looked down at me and again, he grinned as if he knew everything I was thinking. “So where are we going?” I asked. “You’ll see,” he answered, looking away.

I followed Roman onto the elevator, across the lobby of the hotel room, and into the back of a black limo. He was ever the gentleman the entire time—opening doors for me, ushering me with his hand on the small of my back, which I loved, and always making sure were we walking together. It was nice to spend time with someone who didn’t make me feel like they were ashamed of me. The limo drove through the city was surreal, the bright lights beaming through the tinted windows and moving across Roman’s face like a movie reel. I hadn’t been to New York in a long time, but the city was timeless and never changing, no matter how many new buildings went up or old ones came down. The city was a lot like Roman. Strong and full of mystery. I turned away and was looking out of the window on my side of the car when I felt Roman’s hand skim mine. His warm fingers sent chills up my arm and, without thinking, I linked my fingers with his. I smiled out at the city when I felt him give my hand a squeeze. The scenery began to repeat itself, confusing me a bit, but then the car pulled up at the hotel again. Stopping in front of the doors, Roman opened his door and began to get out. “Um, Roman. I thought we were going to dinner?” I asked. He bent down, looking back into the car at me with a smile. “We are. Come on.” He reached out his hand, and I took it as I exited the car. Again, I took his arm as he walked me back into the hotel and onto the elevator. He pressed the number eight for the eighth floor, and I knew we were going back to one of our rooms. Nerves worked their way up my spine and forced me to take a deep breath. “You okay, love?” he asked. Suddenly, his pet name felt more intimate. I’d heard Roman call women love many times, but now that my feelings for him were becoming more obvious, the name felt different. It wasn’t in my imagination that it sounded different coming from him when he directed it toward me. Stepping from the elevator, we walked to his room. I stood to the side as he pulled out his card key and opened the door. I gasped when I took in the inside of his suite. The room was illuminated in candlelight. Tall, stemmed candles and flowers covered every square inch of his room. Stepping into the space and looking around, I saw that dinner was set up at a small table for two in the corner of his room. “It’s beautiful, Roman,” I said as I took in the room in its entirety. And then I felt him at my back, his hot breath tickling the hairs on the back of my neck. “A beautiful room for a beautiful woman,” he whispered. Roman pulled out my chair, and I took a seat. When he pulled up the silver platter in front of me, I was surprised to find a meal from Mama Maria’s in front of me, including a

chocolate ball for desert. I laughed. “I can’t believe you did this for me,” I said, smiling across the table at him when he sat. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, Samantha?” he asked. “Figured out what?” I asked, confused. “There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you.” His said those words with a serious face, his eyes taking in my expression. There wasn’t anything I could say to that. Instead, I reached across the table and covered his hand with mine. The rest of the night consisted of delicious Italian food, funny fortunes inside of chocolate, lots of smiles and laughter, and so much touching I was sure I’d soaked my panties. I squirmed in my chair as I waited and hoped with bated breaths that Roman would make the one big move that would leave me gasping and sweaty in the sheets that covered his bed, but throughout it all, he remained ever the gentleman. AFTER DINNER, ROMAN walked me to my room. I walked at his side with heat between my thighs and wine flowing through my veins. With my arm in his, I let my fingers roam back and forth over his forearm, relishing in the way his muscles would flex beneath my fingertips. Pulling out my card key, I opened my door and turned to face Roman again. “Tonight was more than perfect,” I said, slipping my key back into my purse. “You’re more than perfect,” he responded. Losing his hand in the hair behind my ear, he rubbed my cheek with his thumb. When I pressed my palm into his chest, the heat of his skin warmed his jacket and my fingers. “You’re so full of it, Dr. Roman,” I joked. He captured my hand against his chest, his eyes clashing with mine. The smile left his face, and the moment felt heavy. “Never for a minute doubt me when I say you’re amazing, Samantha.” He released my hand, but I left it there. “There are so many things I want to say to you right now, but again, I’m caught feeling like it’s not a good time. So instead, I say… Goodnight, sweet Samantha.” Dropping his hand from my hair, he ran it down my arm, leaving chills in its wake. It was as if he couldn’t stop touching me, and I loved it. He made me feel more desired and loved than I had been in my entire life, which made no sense because I was sure Roman was not in love with me. Still, a girl could dream. Leaning in, he pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, warming them and skimming my cheek with his hot breath.

I should have said goodnight. An honest woman would have. But I wasn’t an honest woman. I was desperate and needing. I wanted to feel his hands and lips all over me— bringing me to completion in a way Michael never cared enough to. I wasn’t honest, but if I were, I would admit to myself how deeply in love with Roman I was. Sure, there was desire, but the things I felt for him deep inside made that desire burn hotter. “Stay,” I whispered into the space between us, shocking myself. I didn’t want him to leave. I’d spent the night imagining his hands on me. I wasn’t sure I’d make it through the night knowing he was lying in bed a few doors down from me. His eyes examined my face, looking for a crack in my positive exterior. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice strong and steady. I loved that about Roman. No matter what he was feeling inside, he was always so calm on the outside. It made feeling safe in his arms that much easier. “Yes.” The heated word bounced from my mouth seconds before he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine again. Heat surged in my core, sparking something inside that made me moan against his mouth. His body pressed against mine, pushing us both inside the room and making the door click shut behind us. I opened for him, letting his tongue swipe against mine, and again, a tiny moaned slipped from the back of my throat and landed against his lips. Pulling away, he exhaled through his nose as he pressed his forehead to mine and closed his eyes. “Those sweet little noises are going to be the death of me.” Swallowing hard, I breathed the taste of him in. “I’m sorry,” I apologized as I licked my lips. Using his thumb, he wiped away the moisture from my bottom lip. “Don’t ever apologize for being sexy, Samantha.” And then, he kissed me again softly, his sweet flavor rushing over my tongue. Pulling me closer, his hands moved around my sides before resting on my hips. The fabric of my dress tightened across my ass when he fisted it. Moving from my mouth, his lips skimmed my cheek before he nibbled my neck. I leaned back, enjoying the feel of everything he was doing. Then he lost his fingers in my hair and kissed me harder. The sense of urgency in what we were doing was growing by the second, and his kisses were becoming more desperate. Pulling away, he took a deep breath before moving in again. His tongue worked mine, and he sucked on my lips and tongue. I’d never been kissed the way Roman kissed me. It was soft and sweet, yet wild and sexy at the same time. His fingers moved from my hair and down the sides of my neck. He continued until he was fingering the collar of my dress and slowly tugging it down. Moving back, his eyes devoured every exposed piece of my flesh he revealed. It was as if I were a gift he’d

wanted all of his life, and he was finally allowed to unwrap me. “If you want me to stop, say so now. I can’t promise I’ll be able to once I taste you.” The sleeves of my dress fell down my arms, trapping them at my sides and revealing my silk bra. His lips touched my shoulders, his tongue skimming my bra strap. “Samantha?” He breathed my name against my skin. “Tell me to stop, love.” In the back of my mind, I knew I should tell him to stop, but I couldn’t make the words leave my lips. Instead, I stepped away and began to peel my dress from my body. His eyes moved from my bra, down over my stomach, and continued until he was looking back up and gazing into my eyes. Once my dress was around my ankles, I stepped out of it and stood before him in only my bra, panties, and thigh highs. “Samantha.” He said my name with an exhale and a prayer. “You’re so lovely.” And then he moved closer, pressing his body to mine. Running my hands up his chest, I relieved him of his coat. It fell to the floor at our feet. Tilting my head up for more, I pressed my lips to his and kissed him as if he were mine to kiss. I fiddled with his tie until it was loose enough to pull over his head. He smiled down at me with a boyish grin, effectively melting my heart and leaving a scar in my soul. My fingers went to work on his buttons as he pulled down the straps of my bra and littered my shoulders and neck with kisses. And then my bra was gone and Roman sucked my nipple in between his lips, making me cry out in pleasure. He alternated between soft flicks of his tongue and suction, and I felt as if my body was coming alive. Forgetting about unbuttoning his shirt, I pulled it apart. Buttons clattered to the floor, and Roman chuckled softly against my breast. Coming up, he kissed me hard, sucking my bottom lips into his mouth as he nibbled it. Turning us, he walked me to the bed and laid me down. He plucked my heels from my feet, tossing them to the floor, and then he climbed over my mostly naked body, placing kissing on my body in random places he passed. Losing my hands in his messy locks, I held his mouth to my body, gasping every now and again when he licked my skin or bit softly. Opening my legs, I let him fall in between them, pushing my thighs out and pressing the hardness tucked behind his zipper into my soaked panties. Slowly, he worked his hand past the elastic waist of the silk, running his finger across the throbbing bundle of nerves at my center. I lifted my hips, thrusting for more. “Please, Roman,” I said, biting into my bottom lip. “Please what, love? Tell me what you want,” he said against my neck as he continuously kissed and sucked. He was everywhere, including my mind. My body hummed under his attention,

dripping for him and longing for his touch. “I need you.” It was all I could say. It was all I could think. I needed him to put out the burn that was raging inside of me. I needed him to give me the relief I knew he could give. And I simply needed him. Roman had changed me—made me smile and laugh—slowly brought back the girl I used to be. “You have no idea what you saying that does to me,” he said, sliding his finger into my folds and swirling it in the wetness within. Again, I lifted my hips and gasped at the sensations that were slowly building beneath his touch. Reaching down, I covered his hand and pressed it deeper into me. More. I wanted it. My body craved it. Finally, his finger moved into my passage and began massaging a secret soft spot that was slowly moving me closer to the edge. Air puffed from my open mouth, along with tiny sounds I couldn’t stop. And then he pulled his finger away and starting moving down my body. His mouth skimmed my skin, making me squirm into the sheets. Peeling my panties from my body, he tossed them to the floor and leaned down to kiss the inside of my thigh. “I’m going to taste every square inch of you before this night is over,” he said against my folds. And then he made good on his promise as he licked my slit with a flat tongue and sucked my clit into his mouth. “You taste so good, love. Like sugar and sin.” Again, he sucked me before pushing two fingers deep within. My thighs fell open for him, and my hands pressed on the back of his head for more. He ate me in a way I never knew was possible, humming against my wet flesh as if I were the best thing he had ever tasted. As he worked his fingers in and out, the build started within me and was held captive by his touch. He was in control of my pleasure. He knew the combination to open me up, and slowly he pressed that combination in. I climbed with each swipe of his tongue—each entrance of his fingers—until finally, I was hanging on the brink and begging him loudly to give me what I craved. And then I was falling, calling out Roman’s name as if he were the only thing keeping me on the earth. I saw stars as my body emptied into a fountain of pleasure that Roman continued to draw from. I closed my eyes, lost in the sensation, and when I opened them, he was above me. He made quick work of his pants, pushing them down his legs and from his body. I lay

there, limp with contracting muscles in my folds that begged for more. Once his pants were gone, he adjusted himself between my legs. His hot length pressed at my entrance, igniting the flame inside of me all over again. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him down for a kiss and sucked my flavor from his tongue. “I can’t take it anymore. I need you inside of me, Roman. Please,” I begged. “Anything,” he panted against my lips. “Anything you want, Samantha. I’m yours, love.” And then he moved his hips, shattering every vow I’d taken nine years ago, and finalizing my transformation into the girl I used to be.



I LOST MYSELF in Samantha, flexing my hips as if I couldn’t get deep enough. Her sweet moans filled the room as I worked my body into hers over and over again. Her hot, tight flesh surrounded my girth and gripped tightly at me as I plunged deep inside of her. Sensations worked themselves down my spine and into my tailbone before shooting down my length, pushing noises of pleasure past my lips. She was amazing in every way—responsive to every move and touch I made. Her fingernails dug into my back and arse, stinging and adding pain to my pleasure. “Yes, Roman. You feel so good. So. Good,” she said repeatedly. I wanted to make her feel good—to make her feel the way she made me feel. And every time she said something, it sent pleasure down into my hips and brought me closer to the edge. I plunged into her, filling her with everything I was. Pressing my lips to hers, I caught her sounds with my tongue and my own sounds blended with hers. “I’m so close. Don’t stop,” she breathed against my lips. I could feel her tightening around me, and I knew any minute she would explode and bathe me with her sweetness. “Come on, love. Give it to me,” I said, speeding up and working my hips harder. She closed her eyes, the back of her head digging into the pillow, and then she bit into her lip before she opened her mouth and cried out loudly. Her body gripped harder, flexing around me, and wet warmth covered me as she came long and hard. I didn’t stop. Pumping my hips harder and faster, I felt my own release rapidly coming. Burying my head into her neck, my breathing sped up with my body. Everything below tightened as my little death crept in. Biting into her shoulder, I let go and came hard inside of her—shooting all that I was deep into her core. It was satisfying to claim her as my own even though in the back of my mind, I knew she never would be. She held me to her body, sweat layering our skin, beginning to cool when we became still. I lay on top of her, feeling her heartbeat against my chest, before pulling out and falling to my side. Pulling her to my side, she snuggled into me and I released a muchneeded breath. Happiness seeped into me, and with a smile on my face, I slept. We woke twice during the night, gripping at each other and drowning in pleasure. It was an amazing night. One that I would never forget.

I WOKE THE next morning with Samantha snuggled to my side with a sleepy smile. My body hummed and already, I could feel myself hardening against her thigh again. I was insatiable when it came to her. I couldn’t get enough. I wanted to fill her over and over again until I couldn’t anymore. But something heavy weighed on my chest. As I lay there trying to figure out what was wrong with such a perfect situation, I knew it was guilt that was beginning to choke me. I hated the idea of such a terrible feeling being attached to all the wonder that was Samantha, but no matter how much I tried to swallow it, it stayed lodged in my chest. Turning on my side, I took in her face—her flushed cheeks and thoroughly kissed lips. She was beautiful, and even if it was only for the weekend, she was mine. Reaching out, I smoothed away her hair, pushing it out of her face before I leaned in and kissed her softly. “I love you, Samantha,” I whispered against her skin, knowing she didn’t hear me while she slept. It was the best way. I’d wanted to say it from the moment I realized it, but saying it to her wasn’t going to get me anywhere. At least this way, I got it out with no harm done. She began to move, breathing in deeply before her eyes slowly opened and I was staring into the dark orbs that had a way of pulling me in. “Good morning,” she said, her voice weak with sleep. “It definitely is.” I smiled down at her. And it was. The best I’d ever had. WE SPENT THE day together. First making love in the shower, and then taking on the city. We ate lunch at a romantic bistro and held hands like a young couple in love. It was everything I wanted and more, but no matter what, I felt guilty knowing her husband was at home while I was busy losing myself in Samantha and her body. I dropped her off at her room with a kiss when it was time for us to get ready for the conference I was in town to attend. I could hardly wait to get back to Samantha’s room. Being away from her for even an hour while we dressed was too much. Especially knowing that come tomorrow morning, our intimate setting would be gone and we’d be back in Miami, living our normal lives. With a red rose in hand, I went to Samantha’s to pick her up. Tapping on the door, I waited until I heard the lock click and the door opened. And then there she was, standing in front of me, looking like the most beautiful creature in the world, and smiling back at me. Her gorgeous body was wrapped in black silk that cascaded around her legs in loose folds. Her shoulders were bare except for the diamond-drop earrings that rested against her neck. Her hair was up, with lights curls that refused to be tied down falling loosely

around her perfect face. She was beautiful. More beautiful than beautiful. Pulling her into my arms, I kissed her hard. She pushed me away with a giggle. “You’re ruining my lipstick, Roman,” she said, dabbing at the color that I’d smeared on the side. She reached up and ran her finger across my lips, taking away the color I’d stolen with my kisses. “I’m going to ruin more than your lipstick when we get back,” I flirted. As if we hadn’t spent the night in each other’s arms, she blushed sweetly. Giving her my arm, I shivered when she wrapped hers around mine. When we reached the venue where the conference was being held, she stiffened at the door before we could enter. The doors had opened, revealing a room packed with people who were dressed to kill. “What’s wrong?” I asked, turning to her in concern. She was shaking and her blushed cheeks had gone white. It was a side of Samantha I hadn’t had a chance to see. “I’m sorry I’m shaking. I always get nervous at these kinds of things. I’m not like those ladies in there, Roman. I’m not confident enough to walk through that room with my nose in the air.” Pulling her into my arms, I nuzzled her cheek and breathed her in. “You’re nothing like those women, and that’s what I love the most about you. Be confident in your own way.” I leaned back and captured her warm cheeks in my palms. “Confidence isn’t walking into a room with your nose in the air. It’s walking into a room without having to make any comparisons to the people around you. Don’t compare yourself to those people, Samantha, because they don’t compare to you.” She took a deep breath and smiled up at me, squeezing my arm. “How do you always know the right things to say?” “That’s easy. I know you, Samantha.” My eyes moved her face, taking in every expression that passed over it. “I love that you do, Roman. I love…” She stopped, her eyes moving over my face. “I love it more than you realize.” I wanted to tell her then how much I loved her. The moment was perfect. It was the moment I’d been waiting for, but the words stuck to my tongue. It wouldn’t change anything except for the fact that my words would loom over us and add stress to our situation. Instead, I patted the hand she rested on my arm and pulled it up to kiss it. “I know exactly what you mean, love,” I said against the back of her hand, the soft skin tickling my lips. “Ready?”

She nodded and squared her shoulders like a soldier prepared for war. “That’s my girl.” I winked down at her, drawing a glowing smile from her. Walking into the hotel ballroom, we left everything at the door. Moving toward the gathered crowds, Samantha stopped me, pulling on my arm. When I saw what caught her attention, I smiled sheepishly. A picture of me was on display. The words CONGRATULATIONS DR.BLAKE was on the bottom in thick, black lettering. “What is this?” Samantha asked, confused. “Didn’t I mention this evening was for me?” Her eyes narrowed. “Nope. Seems you failed to mention that little fact.” I laughed. “It’s not a big deal.” “It seems to be a very big deal if they’re putting on an event this large just for you.” “It’s validation I don’t need, but it seems you Americans need the gratification that comes with being considered good at what you do.” She laughed. “Us Americans?” “Yes. Excluding you, of course,” I teased. “I hope so.” She pouted and I laughed, bending over to kiss her lips without care for who might recognize her from Miami. If Samantha wasn’t in her element, I wasn’t able to tell with the way she moved through the room. She dazzled and charmed the pants off everyone I introduced her to. I was careful not to use her last name just in case. She found something in common with the other wives, even though I knew she was nothing like those women, and they took to her like bees to honey. As much as I loved that Samantha was having a good time, I wanted her by my side. I tried not to think of it as selfish, but our time was limited, and I couldn’t help but not want to share her too long with everyone else. “Sorry, ladies, but I’m going to steal Samantha for a moment. This beautiful woman promised me a dance tonight, and they’re playing our song,” I said as I wrapped my fingers softly around the top of her arm. She looked up me and briefly, I lost myself in her eyes. “You two make a beautiful couple,” one of the woman commented. “It’s been a long time since I saw a couple who was so perfectly matched.” “Yes, Roman, this one is a keeper,” Debra, the wife of a colleague, said. Smiling down into Samantha’s face, I spoke to her when I answered. “Yes, she is.” Even as the words left my mouth, I knew she wasn’t mine to keep, though. She was mine on stolen time, but for this weekend, I was going to try and ignore it as best I could. The women let out sweet sighs as they said their goodbyes, and I swept Samantha off

on my arm toward the dance floor. When she realized where we were headed, she stopped. “What are you doing?” “You’re going to dance with me.” She shook her head. “I can’t dance, Roman.” “You’re joking, right? We’ve taken several dance lessons.” “But that’s different.” “Why?” “Because…” She tried to supply a reason, but came up empty. “That’s what I thought. What did you think we were practicing for?” “What? I thought it was part of your project.” “There is a reason for everything I do, Samantha.” “You planned this trip?” “Not really. I didn’t plan it with the intention of being here with you like this, but I’m happy it turned out this way. Are you?” I asked, desperate for her answer. “Yes,” she said without hesitation, and I could see it in her eyes that she meant it. “I was just surprised.” “Dance with me, Samantha?” I pulled her against me. The memory of the feel and taste of her body was so fresh in my memory. “Please.” Her eyes glazed over, and I could tell she was thinking about the night before as well. The things we had done and said to each other—it was a moment that I would cherish for the rest of my life. “Yes. Yes to anything you want, Roman.” I smiled and took her hand, leading her out onto the dance floor. Couples parted to let us through and, pulling Samantha close, I turned toward the band, giving them my signal. The lead smiled at me and the music changed, becoming the sweet lullaby of the familiar waltz. The dance floor thinned of couples who didn’t know the tune. There were only a few of us left, but it didn’t matter. I only had eyes for the woman in front of me. Samantha looked around, noticing the smaller size and the eyes of the curious onlookers. Lifting her chin and bringing her eyes toward me, I rubbed my thumb across her bottom lip. “Look at me. Only me, love.” She nodded, and then we were moving around the room. Despite her nerves, she moved effortlessly around the floor like she’d been doing this dance all her life. I spun and twirled her, enjoying the way her gown wrapped around our legs. She laughed and her eyes sparkled as she unraveled before me.

I realized then and there that she had accomplished it. She had found the woman she used to be, and there was no turning back. Whether she stayed with Michael or not, he couldn’t hurt her anymore, and I relished in knowing I had been a part of that. The song slowed to the end and I spun her one last time, dipping her with my body. Time stood still as I looked into her flushed face and bright eyes. I never wanted to let her go, but then, in the worst way possible, I was reminded that she was another man’s wife.



THE ROOM HAD gone quiet as everyone watched us dance, which meant a pin drop could be heard once the music ended. That fact only made the loud, single clapping sound even louder. Everyone’s attention moved from Samantha and me toward the angry, punishing sound as it emerged from the back of the crowd gathered around the dance floor. Pulling Samantha up, I held her close. Her body stiffened when Michael emerged front and center. As if he wore a sign, no one spoke as they looked between Michael and us, knowing something bad was about to happen. “Spectacular!” he slurred loudly. Not that it was necessary to hear his voice to know he was three sheets to the wind. I could smell the booze from where I stood. “Don’t you agree, everyone?” he spat, looking around. “Don’t you think my wife and her lover, the incredible Dr. Roman Blake, put on a spectacular show? They almost fooled you into thinking they were a couple, didn’t they?” Michael’s eyes landed on Samantha, and I looked over to see that every ounce of color had left her face. She wasn’t moving. Holding her breath, she stood stiff as Michael worked his way toward us. “What are you doing here, Michael?” she growled in a hushed whisper. If I hadn’t felt the vibrations of her voice against my side, I wouldn’t have recognized the voice as hers. “Well, they sure as hell fooled me,” he said to the crowd, ignoring Samantha’s question. Michael took a step closer toward us, and it was then that the lights caught the reflection of glass in his hand. I held on to Samantha tighter, but her body was so stiff. “Saint Roman, right?” He held up an award that I hadn’t known I was receiving. His thick fingers wrapped around my life’s work sickened me. “How would you feel about your precious doctor if you knew he’d killed a woman? Would you all love him still?” I felt like Michael had just sucker punched me in the gut, and the air was sucked from my body as my mind tried to play catch up. I looked down at Samantha, not caring about anyone else’s response but hers. She stared up at me, confused, and I wanted to smooth away her puckered brows. “And how should I feel knowing that my wife is leaving me for a murderer? That doesn’t say very much about me now, does it?” Michael continued. Again, his words caught me off guard. This time it was I who looked confused as my eyes moved over Samantha’s face.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was going to tell you this weekend. I didn’t… I…” But Michael wasn’t done with his speech. “He’s a murderer, a liar, a manipulator, and he turned my wife into a—” “Enough!” I roared, causing the guests to gasp and take a small step back. I took two steps toward Michael with every intention of knocking him on his arse, but Samantha grabbed my arm and held me back. “He’s not worth it, Roman,” she whispered for only my ears. And then she was moving past me before I could stop her. She was in front of Michael, trying to push him past the crowd and out of the room. “Let’s go, Michael. You’re wasted.” I heard her say when she reached his side. “No!” he shouted, throwing the glass award in his hand toward the wall. It shattered like I was sure my career was bound to do, and a few of the women screamed out in fear. “Not until everyone sees that bastard for what he really is.” I stood by and watched as Samantha tried to soothe her husband’s rage. If at any point it even looked like he was going to raise his hand to her, I’d kill him for all the room to see. Then I’d really be the murderer he claimed I was. “This isn’t Roman’s fault, Michael, and you’re scaring everyone. You did this to us.” She kept her voice calm and controlled. “You ruined us and destroyed our marriage, not Roman.” She was talking quietly so the room around her wouldn’t hear, but I was close enough to hear every word, and I liked what I was hearing. She was the woman I’d always known she could be, and she was standing up to him. The fog seemed to clear around Michael’s head, and he looked down at Samantha with hurt-filled eyes. It was then that I could see it. There was possession in his eyes, and it was like a bullet to the chest. “You’re my wife, Sam.” His voice cracked. “Come home with me.” She took a deep breath and stiffened her spine. Despite everything that was happening, I never felt prouder of her. “Not anymore. Before I left, we ended things. I’m not yours anymore, Michael.” She took a step back as two hotel security guards came up from behind Michael and took a hold of him. He was so lost in Samantha’s words that he didn’t fight them until they had him halfway out of the room. “Sam!” he roared. “Don’t do this, Samantha!” When the doors closed behind them, no one said a word. The silence in the room was so thick, it could have been sliced through with a knife. Neither Samantha nor I moved, and most of the guests didn’t know what to do. Lifting her head with confidence, Samantha spoke strongly to the room around us. She

was magnificent in her calm, even though drama had reared its ugly head and knocked her down only minute before. “I’m so sorry, everyone. I hope you can accept my apology for ruining yours and Dr. Blake’s event. Excuse me.” Without another word, she lifted her dress and made her way toward the exit. When she was through the doors, I remembered how to use my legs again. “My sincere apologies. Excuse me,” I said as I maneuvered my way through the crowd as they began to move. I busted through the doors, my chest exploding with adrenaline and the expectation of tracking Samantha down, but I pulled up short when I spotted her against the wall. Walking up to her, I took her face into my hands and pulled her lips to mine. Kissing her hard, I savored her taste. “Don’t ever leave me like that again,” I spoke against her lips. She nodded and pulled away. “I’m so sorry, Roman.” Tears fell down her cheeks. “I ruined your night. I…” “You didn’t ruin anything, Samantha. Michael did. I could kill him for embarrassing you like that.” “Me? Look what he did in there! All of your colleagues, patients… he ruined your reputation.” I shook my head, denying her words and dreading the moment when I’d have to clarify his murder accusations. “Those who are my true friends will see past what just happened in there and if not, screw them,” I said, wiping away the tears on her cheeks. Michael’s words came blazing into my mind, and I couldn’t wait any longer to know if she was truly mine. “Is it true? Did you guy really end things?” I asked. “Yes. Right before I met you to come up here.” “That’s why you were so upset?” She nodded. “I was going to tell you. I should have…” “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters now. All that does is I love you.” The words rushed past my lips, and her tear-filled eyes clashed with mine. “You don’t have to respond. Just know I love you so damn much and if you’ll have me, I’m all yours.”



EVEN AFTER ALL the drama of Michael in New York, I still spent the night in Roman’s arms. I wanted to ask about Michael’s accusations, but then again, we were talking about Michael—the biggest liar I knew. I couldn’t really find it in myself to care about where he ended up after his little scene. He was a lawyer; he could get around the law. Always had and always would. I wasn’t sure what my thoughts said about me, but at that point, I wasn’t sure I really cared. Roman spent the night inside of me—all around me—and it was pure bliss. The world outside of his room didn’t exist. There was only him, and there was only me. The night before, Roman had all of my things brought to his room, and that was fine by me. The following morning, we packed our things side by side. I was nervous about going back to Miami. As long as we were away, we could ignore all the crazy that awaited us there. We could wrap ourselves in each other and deny the rest, which is exactly what I wanted to do. Before my father died, he told me that life was meant to be lived. I remember thinking in that moment how wrong it was that I had plenty of life ahead of me and yet, I wasn’t taken advantage of it the way my father might have had he had more time. I could honestly say that I was living my life for me now. I let go of Michael the way I should have a long time ago and threw out the rulebook. It was way past time I did what felt good. Roman felt good. No… Roman felt amazing. Not just the sex, but being near him made me feel alive. It didn’t matter what I was sure to face when we got home, I knew he was worth it. “You okay, sweet?” Roman asked from my side. I was staring out of the window of the plane and watching the clouds go by. I was so stuck in my thoughts that I hadn’t talked much since we boarded. We had a lot to talk about before we landed, but being silent and mulling over my life felt better. Reaching over, I laid my hand over his. “I’m perfect,” I responded. He leaned over and kissed me softly before pressing his forehead to mine. “That you most definitely are.” Pressing my lips to his, I let his warmth and calm move over me. He pushed the kiss a step further by sucking the tip of my tongue. Breaking away, he shivered and grinned to himself. “You’re making me crazy, woman. Now that we’ve concluded that you are indeed perfect, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” he said, smoothing down my hair and kissing my forehead. I loved how touchy-feely he was. It was taking some getting used to, but it was a

welcome change. It was as if he couldn’t stand not to touch me. As if his hands burned to feel my skin. The feeling was mutual. “I’m just thinking about how things are going to be when we get back to Miami.” “How do you want them to be?” he asked, worry etched in his brow. Reaching up, I smoothed it away and kissed the spot. “I don’t mean with you. I think I know how that’s going to go down. What I mean is… I have a ton to figure out now that my marriage is officially over. “Like what?” I took a deep breath “Well, first and foremost, my living arrangements. It’s not like I have a ton of options out there, you know? And hiring a lawyer to file a divorce. Michael isn’t going to make any of this easy for me. It’s not in his nature.” “I know.” He nodded sadly. “I hate thinking about what you’re going to go through with that, but please know that I’ll be there with you every step of the way.” His palm moved to cover my face, and I leaned into his touch. “I know. Knowing I have you is what’s keeping me together. I know I’ll have to deal with Michael and everything, but I just want a few weeks before I have to think about that. Finding a place to live is my main concern right now.” He nodded. “Well… if I’m being completely honest, I was thinking you could come home with me.” His words made a smile pull at my lips. “Is that so?” “Tis so,” he said with a grin, looking up at me from beneath his dark lashes. His whiskey eyes sparkled, and I knew he was thinking about our weekend together. “But I don’t want you to tire of me too fast,” I teased. “I assure you, love, me getting tired of you isn’t a possibility.” And then he bit into his bottom lip as his eyes devoured mine. I had never considered being a part of the mile-high club, but even with all the crazy running around in my head, I couldn’t wait to get him alone. He wanted me to go home with him. I swallowed hard just thinking about it. Staying with Roman sounded like heaven, but at the same time, I didn’t want us to move too fast. I wanted to enjoy the beginning of our relationship without putting too much pressure on us. “Are you sure?” “I’m never been more sure of anything in my life.” “Okay. But only for a week or two. It’s important I find a place of my own.” I folded. “If you say so.” And then he turned away and closed his eyes with a happy smile on his face. Moments later, his breathing evened out and I knew he was asleep.

I DIDN’T MISS the Miami heat that welcomed us when we got home. The air outside was too thick—too moist—and already my skin was beginning to feel sticky. Even the hot breeze that worked its way up my dress didn’t provide any relief. Roman carried my bags for me once we picked them up, and a car was waiting out front to take us back to his place. The driver put our bags in the trunk as we climbed inside. His hand stayed on my knee on the ride across Miami, except for when he would occasionally run it up my thigh, making the muscles in my leg flex. I couldn’t wait to get to his place and christen his bed. Just thinking of him moving his length deep inside me was turning me on. Between my legs was still tender from our weekend together. My folds swollen from his heavy love making, but even so, I could feel myself getting wet for him—the throb that was slowly pounding in my sweet spot matched the rhythm of my heart. Just being near him did this to me. A quick stop to pick up Duke, who was as excited to me as Roman said he would be, and we were on the way back to Roman’s place. His beachfront condo was more glass than anything else. The moment I stepped into his space, I went to the windows looking out at the expansive ocean. It was beautiful and completely opposite from the large house I’d lived in with Michael. It was smaller and more intimate. Pictures of friends and family littered the tables and even the fine, traditional furnishings felt cozy. It felt like home even though I’d never stepped foot in the place until that moment. Coming up behind me, Roman wrapped his arms around my waist and I let my hands rest on his forearms. As he kissed the side of my neck just below my ear, his hot breath shifted the hair around my face. I tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access to my neck. He nuzzled me, softly sucking and kissing spots that made me shiver. His tongue worked its way down my neck and over my shoulder. “Have I told you how sexy your shoulders are?” I smiled at our reflection in the glass. “I don’t think you have.” “Well, they are. I want to worship your body, Samantha.” “I’m pretty sure you spent the weekend doing just that.” I gasped when his arms lowered and his hands began to gather the front of my dress. “That’s not nearly enough.” Turning in his arms, I put my arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down to mine. I’d never get tired of his taste or the way he felt pressing so tightly against me.

When he backed me up against the glass, the cold met my shoulders and the backs of my thighs, making me hiss and bite into my bottom lip. His hands worked up my legs and under my dress, and then he lifted me, forcing me to wrap my legs around him. “I want you,” he whispered against my lips. He pressed his hardness into my center, making me whimper in delight. “When it comes to me, you can have anything you want, Roman. I’m all yours.” He kissed my neck, burying his face into my skin and breathing me in. “Say it again,” he whispered. “I’m yours, Roman,” I repeated. He growled against my skin, pleasure rippling down my spine. And then he shocked me when he reached between my legs and ripped my panties from my body. Roman was always so calm and collected. Seeing him lose control like that was sexy. “I’m so crazy for you, Samantha. I need to be inside you,” he said, ripping his pants down around his thighs. His cock was hard and hot when he pressed it against me. “Tell me if I get too rough.” And then he moved up, shoving himself deep into my soaked passage and making me cry out in pleasure. Reaching down, I began peeling my dress up until I tugged it over my head and threw it to the floor. His hips worked fast and hard, pressing me to the cold glass until I was sure it would crack. It wasn’t sweet… it was aggressive as he claimed me in his home. I loved every second of it. I pulled down my bra and my breast popped out. He wasted no time dipping his head and sucking my tip into his mouth. He bit softly, making me ache everywhere. It was so good—too good. I never wanted it to end. “Ah, God,” I whimpered when my insides began to tingle. Desire worked its way up. I knew any second it would fall, and I would shatter all over Roman. “Don’t stop, baby. Please,” I begged. Pulling my hips from the glass, he held me suspended, my shoulders pressed tightly to the world outside. His fingers dug into my hips painfully, but it only added to the moment. Michael would never have been so abrupt—he never would have fucked me. It was what I wanted. It made me feel as if Roman wanted to disappear inside of me. The new position changed something. His length massaged something deep within me that intensified the pleasure to the point that I could no longer speak. Instead, I panted with my mouth open and my eyes closed. “That’s it. Feel me, love. You’re mine,” he growled. “Mine.” And then I came long and hard, flooding him with all that I was and crying out so

loudly, I was sure my screams would echo over the waves across the beach from us. He was right behind me, digging his fingers into my flesh, and driving himself deep into me with a manly growl that painted him a beast instead of the gentleman I knew him to be. It was amazing. “WELL, I DIDN’T have this on my bucket list, but if having sex for two days straight had been on there, I could definitely scratch it off now.” Roman’s smile touched the pillow and he tucked his arms under it, propping his head up and looking around me. I’d been drawing lazy circles on his back and my fingers stalled when he moved. “It’s past midnight now, love. Make that three days.” “Well, don’t you strive for satisfaction guaranteed, Dr. Blake?” I said teasingly. “When it comes to you, Samantha, I strive to take you to the stars.” And he had. Multiple times over the last few days, I had touched heaven with him. “What did I do to deserve you, Roman?” Leaning over me, he kissed me softly. “I ask myself that every day, love. What I did to deserve you?” “Do you have an answer yet?” He shook his head. “No, but I plan to spend the rest of my life finding one. Think you can handle that?” “I think I can handle anything that involves you and forever.” Again, he kissed me, his light stubble rubbing against my face the way it had earlier between my thighs. “You’re amazing, Samantha, don’t ever forget that.” I sighed and chewed on the inside of my lip. “What’s wrong?” Roman asked, frowning. “Everything is perfect now, but I can’t help but feel like everything is going to fall apart once Michael gets his divorce papers,” I said, stating my worry. “Nothing is going to fall apart. You’re strong, Samantha. You can handle anything.” “No, you’re the strong one. I wish I could be strong like you. Nothing shakes you. You’re always so calm and ready to take on anything,” I said, pushing the hair from his eyes. He smiled down at me and kissed me softly on the tip of my nose. “You think I’m strong, but everyone has a weakness, Samantha. You just happen to be mine.”

I smiled, feeling that warmth in my stomach that only Roman could create. “How weak do I make you?” I asked seductively and pushed on his shoulder until he was lying on his back. Climbing on top of him, I hovered above him, my hand circling him and exploring his length as it stretched in my hand. “You look pretty strong to me,” I teased and positioned myself above him. “I wonder if you feel strong, too.” His grin was delicious. “Only one way to find out, love.” His fingers wrapped around my hips and pushed me down while lifting his off the bed at the same time. Our bodies coming together was a sensation so strong it was almost torturous. He moved inside of me like he was made only for me, and I wondered how I survived so long without having Roman inside of me like this. I rocked front to back, up and down, finding the spot that made me melt for him. He watched with a knowing smirk on his face as I found my release before he took over again, pounding up into me as I balanced myself on his chest. We found a perfect rhythm together, and the sounds of our ecstasy were the only sounds in the room. “I love you so much, Samantha,” he ground out as he came into me. Kissing him softly, I said the words that I knew he longed to hear. “I love you too.” My words were whispered, but I could tell by the expression of wonder on his face that he’d heard them. Reaching up, he pushed my hair from my face and I relaxed against him while he was still inside me. “I’m just not used to this kind of intimacy with another person,” I confessed. I hadn’t wanted to move from atop Roman, so I rested my chin on his chest to look at him. “And what kind of intimacy is that?” he asked, running his fingers as far down my spine as he could. “This kind. When we’re together, it’s like you’re a part of me.” He chuckled and playfully lifted his hips, showing that was indeed very much a part of me. “Not like that, Dr. Blake. I meant emotionally. It’s scary because sometimes I feel like you can see right through me.” His face went serious, and he looked me in the eye while he played with a strand of hair by my cheek. “That’s because intimacy isn’t purely physical. It’s the act of connecting with someone so deeply, you feel like you can see into their soul.” His words were beautiful as usual. Roman’s heart was unlike anyone else’s. It was pure, full of compassion and love. “Are we connected, Roman? Can you see my soul?”

Leaning up, he kissed me, pressing his warm lips to mine and sealing some unspoken promise. When he pulled away, his eyes devoured mine. “I can see everything—all that you are—and I never want to let you go.” “Good because I’m not going anywhere without you.” I rolled my hips. He stirred and hardened instantly inside of me. His eyes turned dark with lust, and he moaned when I moved again. I loved getting that reaction from Roman. He made me feel like I was the only woman who could ever cause him to react that way, and it empowered me. We pulled the night down around us and hours later, we finally slept. Still sprawled across Roman’s chest and him nestled deep inside of me, we slept.



WHEN WE COULD no longer ignore the growl of our stomach’s or the outside world, we emerged from my bedroom like creatures of the night. “It burns!” Samantha joked when the sun touched her skin. Laughing, I pulled her to me, but then the sun met my eyes and her burning joke didn’t sound so funny anymore. I made a mental note to open the blinds the next time Samantha and I decided not to leave the bedroom for three days. “Are you hungry?” I asked as I took her hand and led her into the kitchen. The layout of my condo was pretty simple. Bedroom, bathroom, hallway, kitchen that overlooked the living room, and a dining room and front door. “I’m starved. Some evil man refused to feed me while he ravished my body so perfectly,” she said with a grin before tilting up on her tiptoes and kissing me. I kissed her back, smiling against her lips as I backed her onto a stool. She climbed it and leaned onto the counter while I moved around the kitchen. “I only know how to make scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, sausage, and toast.” I frowned. “But I usually burn the toast. She laughed. “Only?” She pretended to be aghast. “What, no Belgian waffles? You aren’t going to cook a five-course dinner later?” I caught on to her teasing and laughed with her. “If that’s what you want, love.” “Eggs and bacon are fine. Or cereal, if you have any?” “I actually think I might.” I turned toward the small pantry and pulled out a box of Lucky Charms. “Will this do?” I held up the box. Her face lit up. “Perfect. A magically delicious breakfast after a magically delicious night.” Two full bowls later, I was leaning against the counter across from her, patting my full stomach. I had no idea where she was putting it, but watching her eat was sexy. I fully planned on making her my lunch a little later. I CLEANED UP our breakfast mess while Samantha watched from the kitchen counter. I could feel her eyes on my skin, and I knew it was time I explained a few things to her. If I were in this for the long haul, which I was, I needed to open up to her. I needed her

to know that the things Michael had accused me of being were true in a way. Having the darkness I kept locked within put on display in front of room full of people wasn’t how I wanted Samantha to find out. But even still, she deserved to know about my past. It was just unfortunate that she heard it from a man such a Michael instead of me. She needed clarification, and I was ready to give her that. I could tell there were times when she looked at me that she wanted to ask, but she was respectful of my feelings. I appreciated that about her. “I was going to tell you, Samantha.” I threw the dish towel across my shoulder and turned to face her. Her eyes found mine, and confusion clouded them for a brief second before she realized what I was talking about. Looking away, she tucked her hair behind her ear and she cleared her throat. Her eyes moved over to mine again as she crossed her arms over her chest. Understanding moved into her expression, and she gave me a sweet smile. “I know.” My heart fluttered for her, and the love inside me grew. “What happened?” she asked. “I had a baby sister,” I started. The ache I usually felt when I mentioned Rachel filled my chest and threatened to choke me. “Her name was Rachel,” I rasped. The words felt stuck to my tongue. “Was?” Her brows pulled in. “She committed suicide when she was seventeen.” I forced the words out. Samantha’s eyes grew wild with grief. “I’m so sorry, Roman.” I nodded. “It was many years ago, but it still hurts as if it were yesterday.” “Naturally,” she said. Standing from the stool, she moved across the room to me, pressing a comforting hand to my bare chest. “Her face was burned pretty badly when she was younger, and children are cruel. She was teased unmercifully at school. So badly in fact that my mother refused to let her go back at first.” I swallowed the memories. I could remember wanting to go to her school and strangle the kids that were hurtful to Rachel. “She was homeschooled until she was twelve. By then, she felt she was old enough to handle the kids at school. She begged our mother to let her go back—begged to be a normal kid, but my mother wouldn’t relent. She was completely against the idea, but my father was adamant that being social with kids her own age was important for Rachel.” I could still hear his words. They were angry and careless. She needs to accept her scars and learn to see herself as what she is.

What she is… not who. I hated the way he’d said that. As if she were an abomination. As if she weren’t completely normal simply because of her scars. The truth was that Rachel was amazing. She was beautiful and strong, and while I agreed that she should return to school, I agreed because it was what she wanted, not for any other reason. “Her first day back was a nightmare, but she insisted on going back. I was so proud of her, Samantha.” I looked down into her big, brown pools of understanding. “She was a fighter at first. Her spirt was undeterred no matter what the kids said. She made it her mission to get all the kids to like her. Only kids were harsh. Even at such a young age, they were able to tear someone down and destroy their soul. They were doing it to Rachel. I could see the changes in her every day when she came home. She was losing her sparkle—her eyes became dead over time— and I knew she was crumbling under their words.” I put my head down, feeling the tears rush to my eyes. Samantha ran her thumb across my cheek and I kissed it, reminding myself that I was here and now, not back in London watching my sister go away from herself. “She was a shell of the girl she used to be,” I continued. “And after surviving four months of public school, she begged our parents to let her go back to being homeschooled. My father refused, putting Rachel and my mother in tears. I remember hating him so much,” I said with guilt as I looked down at Samantha, who would give anything to have her father back. I felt terrible for saying it out loud, knowing how she felt about her own father, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she continued to comfort me with a touch here or there and a tiny kiss from her sweet lips. “When my sister turned thirteen, her only wish was to have plastic surgery. She wanted to look normal and have a normal life. But my father refused. He said she didn’t need it. He said she was fine just the way she was, and she didn’t need it.” Fine. Not beautiful, which she was—she was gorgeous inside and out. I could see it. My mother could see it. Yet, he’d said she was fine. She didn’t feel fine. It was obvious by the way she moped around the house, her eyes bland and her color turning pale. “It got to a point that she wouldn’t even leave the house anymore. She would scream when my father would make her, and I would stand to the side and cry inside, wishing I could help her. She became depressed and withdrawn and no matter how much I tried to pull her out of it, she was lost. “She began cutting herself—starving herself—and deteriorating in front of our eyes. My mother begged and threatened my father to do something for her. She said she understood why he didn’t want her to have the surgery, but Rachel was declining and the time for life lessons was over.

“And then one day, she didn’t come downstairs for breakfast. My mother told me to go upstairs and get her. I took the stairs two at a time, knowing something was wrong. I could feel it in my chest.” A tear fell down my cheek, and Samantha wiped it away. “And there she was. Sprawled on the floor and white. Everything in the room became white as I freaked out, except for the deep red blood that was pooled around her. Her wrists had been cut. She had taken her own life.” Darkness moved on Samantha’s face, and I hated myself for putting it there—for drawing her into my dark place, but I knew it needed to be done. I wanted her to know me and everything about me. “Life as we knew it was never the same. My mother could never forgive my father for what she thought he did to Rachel and neither could I. My mother died a few years later, but she was never the same. “I went to school to become a doctor. My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps, but I had other plans. I wanted to help people, people like Rachel. So I became a surgeon, a plastic surgeon. My father was disgusted by my decision. He said it was a waste of my knowledge to become a doctor for frivolous things.” I shook my head remembering the last thing I’d ever said to him. “We got into a huge argument the day I graduated from university. I said things I wish I could take back. I told him it was his fault Rachel killed herself, and maybe in some way it was, but after having Michael call me a murderer the other night, I understood how badly my words had to burn him.” Samantha put her hand over mine, and tears filled her eyes. “But you’re not a murderer, Roman.” I sighed. “No. I’m not, and neither was my father, but I was stubborn and thought I knew it all. I couldn’t stay in that house with my father any longer, so I left and came to the states to stay with my grandmother.” Another dark memory moved over me, and I swallowed the bile that threatened me. “It was my first year in my new practice as a plastic surgeon, and I felt like I could change the world. I was a couple of months in when I met Mary Sinclair. She’d been in a horrible car accident that left her face badly scarred. She wanted me to fix her, to make her beautiful again, and because she reminded me of Rachel so much, I agreed to the surgery.” Her face flashed before my eyes, and I smiled at how beautiful she was after the surgery. “When I was finished with her, she was like a brand-new woman, and she was so happy. It made me happy to know she wouldn’t end up like Rachel and that I had given that to her. But then, it didn’t seem to be enough for her. “She kept coming back for more surgeries, things I didn’t exactly think she needed,

but Dr. Stein argued it wasn’t my place to decide that for the patients. So I continued to do surgery after surgery until she was no longer flesh and bone.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, remembering how terrible her skin had looked. She was pulled so tightly that her skin looked ready to pop. I hated myself for doing that to her. I hated everything about my job when it came to her. “After a while, I started to refuse her calls, I stopped booking appointments with her, and eventually, she got the point. She was addicted to it, and I guess I thought if I wouldn’t do the surgeries anymore, she would stop having them done. Two weeks later, I received a call from another plastic surgeon who was requesting her files. “I told him all about her, her addiction, and how I felt she was suffering from depression and who knew what else. He assured me he had it handled and that neither of us were a psychiatrist. Neither of us were in the position to post a diagnoses of depression on her head. He hung up, and I let it go. “A month later, I saw her on the news. I remembered the journalist going on and on about the dangers of plastic surgery. The title of the news spot was Plastic Surgery Gone Wrong. “They posted pictures of how terrible she looked after each surgery I’d done, and I hated myself for letting it go as far as it did. “She died a month later,” I said as hurt crushed my chest. “I’d killed her. Not technically, but it was on my file. I’d made her what she was. I was her dealer for so long.” It angered me. I was angry with her, with the other surgeon, but mostly with myself, for not doing more for Mary or Rachel. It was then that I realized what my father had been doing all those years ago with my sister, and if I had realized it sooner, I could have saved Mary, maybe even Rachel. They didn’t need surgery to make them beautiful—they need self-esteem. They needed someone to show them how beautiful they were, not just tell them. They needed everything society didn’t give them. “I vowed never to do unnecessary surgery on a person again. I switched to reconstructive surgery and worked hard on shaping the people I deal with every day to love themselves and see past what’s on the outside. In the end, the people who matter will remember them by how big their heart is and not how they looked.” I felt like I’d been talking for an eternity when I finally looked up at Samantha. She was watching me closely with understanding eyes. She wasn’t judging me for all my flaws. She understood. “That’s why you wouldn’t do the surgery for me,” she whispered. I nodded. “I wasn’t going to make the same mistake with you. You were so fragile the first time I met you and yes, I was angry with you, but deep down, I was angry at the reason that made you even feel the need to be there.”

I cupped her soft cheeks in my palms, my fingers getting lost in her hair. “When I saw you that night at the party, you looked like the weight of the world was on your shoulders, and it killed me. And if I’m confessing all my truths right now, it’s important that you know you changed me too, Samantha. I don’t know how I lived without knowing you.” She leaned up, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me as if her life depended on it. “We changed each other, Roman,” she whispered against my lips. I buried my face in her hair and breathed her in, letting her sink into my soul. “I hate that you had to find out from Michael. I should have told you earlier.” “It doesn’t matter. You told me now, and I never believed anything Michael had said. You’re not a murderer.” Pulling back, she took my face in her hands. “I love you so much, Roman. I never knew love like this was possible until I met you. I loved Michael—I did—but not like this. Never like this.” “I detest Michael for what he did to you. I hate him with a bloody passion, but I guess I should thank him. He pushed you away and sent you to me.” She laughed, unleashing kisses all over my face. “I love you, Roman.” “I love you more, Samantha.” HOURS LATER, WE were back in the bedroom, but this time, we just held each other. Samantha was snuggled against my chest, and my arm was wrapped tightly around her. “Have you spoken to your father?” she asked in the dark. “No. Not in a long time.” “Do you forgive him?” “Yes. I suppose I do.” “You should tell him. I’m sure he’d love to hear that. Nothing is promised, Roman, and you’re the only person he has left. I think you both could use each other.” I pulled her tighter against me, letting her words and my love for her fill me. Leaning down, I placed a soft kiss on her hair. “You make me a better man, Samantha.” And then we finally slept.

THE NEXT TWO weeks flew by faster than I liked. I’d lost myself so completely in her that I began to forget what day it was. When it was time to rejoin the outside world, I cursed my career. Samantha helped me dress on my first day back to work, tying my tie and kissing me on every exposed piece of my flesh. Needless to say, I was almost late to my first appointment. I went to work and resumed life as usual, while Samantha searched for an apartment of her own and a lawyer who wasn’t intimidated by her husband. Apparently, Michael was a shark in the courtroom, and no one was willing to go up against him. I practically begged her to stay with me and forget about the apartment hunt, but she was convinced she needed her own space. She said she could never be good enough for me until she knew how to stand on her own. I understood, I really did, but the selfish parts of me couldn’t even fathom sleeping in my bed without her again. We took turns doing everything—cooking and cleaning. As completely terrible as it sounded, I loved coming home and finding Samantha in my kitchen wearing nothing by one of my T-shirts. I found it hard to eat anything she cooked since there was nothing more delicious than her. Then we’d spend the night pleasuring each other. I would never get tired of hearing the sweet, tortuous sounds that flowed from Samantha’s lips while I was inside her. I would never get tired of the feel of her—the way she whispered my name as she came all over me. She was mine and every night and every morning, I was going to remind her until she never had to doubt my love, my want, or my need for her.



AFTER ROMAN’S DARK confessions, he was lighter. Even though I couldn’t see how he could consider himself a murderer, I understood his guilt. Things about the way he handled his career became clearer. I was worried about the backlash of Michael’s appearance in New York, but apparently, there were none. There was a meeting of colleagues, and Roman still received his award of excellence. He acted as if it was no big deal, but I could see in his smile that he was proud of his accomplishments. I was proud of him, too. Of the man he was and the care he took with each of his patient’s. It was truly beautiful. It was Sunday, and Roman had the day off. We made plans to go out, but the morning had taken a different turn and instead of taking a quick shower to get ready, Roman had decided to get in with me. My cries and his growls echoed through the large bathroom as he pounded into me as if his life depended on it. I worried the glass door would crack as he took me over the edge with his hands, his mouth, and his length that filled me over and over again until I was sure I’d break. We crawled out of the shower a half an hour later with heavy breaths and impenetrable smiles. Wrapped in a towel, I stood and watched as he dressed. I loved the way his muscles flexed, how his olive-colored skin glowed in the bathroom lights. He was mine, and I was quite possibly the luckiest woman in the world. Coming over to me, he kissed me quickly with a wet smack. “Meet me in the kitchen and I’ll make you breakfast,” he said with a wink. With my hands on my hips, I gave him a look. Being naked around Roman was something I was becoming to love. What woman wouldn’t love turning on the man she loved every time he looked at her? “You’re spoiling me, Dr. Blake,” I said, wrapping my arms around him and enjoying the feel of my hardening nipples against my towel. Lowering his head, he nuzzled my neck and breathed me in. “You haven’t seen the half of it, love. I’m going to spend the rest of my life giving you everything you didn’t have before you met me.” He claimed my lips and gave my bare behind a playful smack. Squirming and laughing under his grabbing hands, I wiggled free. “Get dressed, woman. You tempt me so.” “Yes, Dr. Blake.” I smiled sweetly and he moaned in anguish on his way out. My chest was exploding with happiness, and I couldn’t remember ever feeling this content. I was totally and

completely happy. Nothing was missing from my life, and I never wanted that feeling to go away. Picking up Roman’s dress shirt he had worn the day before, I brought it up to my nose and breathed in his scent. He smelled amazing, and I wanted to wrap myself in him. Pulling on the shirt and buttoning it up halfway, I didn’t bother to put on anything else. I made my way into the kitchen and took complete satisfaction in the way Roman’s jaw dropped. “Are you trying to kill me, Samantha?” he asked, reaching down and palming the hardness that was growing in his pants. “Why, Dr. Blake, whatever do you mean?” I playfully batted my eyelashes. “You know bloody hell exactly what I mean.” He growled sexily. “Dressed like that, you’re going make me burn down the bloody kitchen.” I giggled as his accent got thicker and deeper, making my way toward him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, he kissed me, holding the spatula at his side. “Do you want me to burn the kitchen down, love?” he asked, suckling the skin beneath my ear. I bit into my bottom lip, enjoying the heated tingles that moved into my core. I couldn’t get enough of him. “If it meant dying in your arms, then yes, I’d burn with you, Roman.” Dropping the spatula to the counter, he ran his hands up the outsides of my bare thighs and pushed me up against the sink. The edge of the counter pressed into my back, but Roman managed to bring me pleasure rather than pain. He reached behind himself and pressed a button, turning off the stove, and then he slipped his hands under the hem of the shirt I was wearing and swept this thumbs across my hipbones, pressing firmly. Moaning, I dropped my head back and his lips were quick to cover the side of my neck, biting softly. “Roman…” I panted. “I’m going to need that shirt back now, love.” His fingertips pressed into my ass cheeks, and he lifted me and planted me firmly on the counter. I wasted no time unbuttoning the remaining buttons. “Allow me.” His hands pushed mine aside, but instead of going for the next button, he pulled the shirt open. I let out a surprised gasp as buttons flew around the kitchen floor. He pushed it aside, and his eyes turned smoky with desire as they moved down my naked body. “God, you’re beautiful, Samantha. Have I told you that today?” “At least twenty times since we woke up.” I smiled. “That’s all?”

“Roman?” “Yes, love?” “I need your mouth on me.” He smiled and pulled me toward him. “With pleasure, love.” His lips closed around my nipple, and the smooth edges of his teeth nipped softly. I cried out and my fingers gripped his hair, pulling him closer to me. He repeated the caress, and I nearly lost myself on the kitchen counter. His mouth trailed kisses to my other nipple, biting, pulling, and sucking all at once… when the sound of the doorbell went off. Duke growled from the couch and both of us froze, hoping if we didn’t move or make a sound whoever it was on the other side of the door would go away. Unfortunately, the person was persistent and the doorbell went off again. This time, Duke barked loudly and ran for the door. Roman groaned and leaned his forehead onto my chest. “Don’t move a muscle,” he rumbled, kissing the spot between my breasts. I smiled as he adjusted his jeans and grabbed a shirt off the chair on his way toward the door. After pulling it into place, he pulled open the front door. My smile faded as Roman stiffened, pulling the door close to his side so no one could see in. I was instantly on guard as I pulled Roman’s shirt closed and hopped off the counter. Whoever was on the other side of the door had changed Roman. His spine was straight, his jaw so tense the muscles ticked. Walking toward the living room, I grabbed my discarded jeans and bent over to pull them on. My head snapped up hearing a familiar voice halfway through pulling on my pants, and my heart tripped on itself. I couldn’t move. “I know she’s in there!” Michael. His voice was a mix of anger, frustration, and desperation. I didn’t know how he knew I was here or where Roman lived, but that didn’t really matter now. “You need to leave, Michael.” Roman’s voice was hard and deadly. I’d never heard him sound like that, and I didn’t like it. “I just need to talk to her. She’s my wife, damn it!” “When and if she wants to talk to you, she’ll let you know. Until then, leave us alone.” “Us? She’s mine, you son of a…” “Enough, Michael!” I yelled, coming to stand next to Roman. I hugged my stomach, keeping Roman’s shirt tightly closed, and tried to hold myself together. I would listen to what Michael had to say because I knew he wouldn’t leave

Roman or me alone until I did, and then I’d send him on his way. “It’s okay, Roman,” I told him softly, running my fingers over his hand. He looked down at me, worry darkening his eyes, and I hated that he was a part of such a horrible situation. I wanted to touch his face, kiss away the tightness from around his mouth, but I wanted to deal with Michael first. Turning on Michael, I glared. I wasn’t going to give him any more than I already had. “You have ten minutes and that’s way more than you deserve,” I said sternly. Giving a reassuring smile to Roman, I moved past Michael into the hallway and waited for him to join me. I wasn’t going to ask Roman to shut the door or leave us alone, I didn’t have to; he had already stepped away. I wasn’t sure how far he had gone, but it didn’t matter. “So you’re with him now?” “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I am. I said you have ten minutes, Michael, and I meant it. Are you going to use them to talk about my relationship with Roman?” “You’re my wife, Samantha,” he growled. The sadness in his eyes burned. “I haven’t been your wife in a really long time, Michael, but if you mean in a technical sense, then yes, I still am. You’ll receive your papers soon enough, and I don’t want a damn thing from you.” As if seeing him for the first time, I realized if I had passed him on the street, I wouldn’t have recognized him at all. His hair wasn’t slicked back and his normal suit attire was gone. In its place was a wrinkled shirt, dirty jeans, and a dark blue jacket. It had been a long time since I’d seen Michael look like the man I had fallen in love with. It was a bittersweet feeling, but knowing Roman waited for me on the other side only confirmed that I was done living in the past. Roman was my future now. Michael took a deep breath and when he spoke, it was another unfamiliar blow. “I want you back, Sam.” He sounded rundown. “These last few weeks have been a nightmare without you. You’re mine, and knowing you’re here with him makes me sick to my stomach.” He took a step closer to me, and I took one step back. I hadn’t expected this side of Michael to come out. I could handle his dominance and cruelty, but this? This was something different. “I need you back, Samantha. I’m nothing without you. I just wish it hadn’t taken me this long to realize how much I love you. I’ve been such an idiot, Sam. I took you for granted. I hurt you, and destroyed you. I’ve given you no reason to take me back or love me again, but if you did, I promise you I would spend the rest of our lives loving you the way you deserve to be loved.”

He took a hesitant step closer, and I was too dazed to move away from him this time. His hands were balmy as he took mine in his, holding on firmly. I looked down at our hands and then back up at him. He was pleading with me to hear him and I was, but as much as I had wanted to hear all of this from him… it was too late. “Michael…” I was going to tell him exactly that, but he interrupted me, taking a step closer to me. “Don’t say no. Please,” he begged. “Just think about it. Take as long as you need. Just don’t say no right now.” His fingers were gripping mine and when he realized that, he let go quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never started out to hurt you, Sam. I swear to you I didn’t.” He took a step back, and I instantly felt like I could breathe again. He smiled and again, he looked like the boy I’d fallen in love with a long time ago. It was nice to know he hadn’t completely lost that person. “I’ll wait to hear from you, Sam. I won’t barge in on you like this again.” I nodded slowly and he turned, walking away slowly. I felt dazed as I shut the door to Roman’s condo and leaned against the door, trying to understand what had just happened. The door felt cool against my burning forehead, and briefly, confusion swept through me. “Are you alright, Samantha?” When I looked up, Roman was standing against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed. He wore a blank expression, making it hard for me to read him, and the way he said my name was different. It wasn’t in the same loving manner as before. “I’m somewhat surprised, but I’m okay.” I smiled and pushed away from the door. I wasn’t sure how much Roman had heard, but I was sure he had heard some of Michael’s testament. I expected Roman to act cool and aloof judging by his mood, but he moved from the counter, meeting me halfway. His arms wrapped around my shoulders the same time mine wrapped around his middle. He pulled me into his warmth and I pressed my cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “I’m glad it’s over, and I hope he can move on now that he got to say what he needed to say,” I said against the cotton fabric of his shirt. My fingers made random patterns over his back, and I closed my eyes as his fingers massaged my scalp. Being in Roman’s arm like this only assured me that I was doing the right thing for me. “You should go back to Michael, Samantha.” His words struck me deep, making me lose my next breath.

I froze, sure I had heard him wrong. My eyes opened and I frowned, pulling away from him so I could see his eyes. “What?” He sighed, and pushed my hair back. “You should go back to Michael.” “I don’t understand. Why? Why would you say that? Why would you think I’d want to?” Hurt lingered in his deep eyes. “For the same reason you came to me in the beginning, Samantha. The reason you started all this. He’s your husband, and he wants to make this work.” “But I don’t love him anymore, Roman. I haven’t loved him in a very long time, and I don’t think I could love him again.” My fingers gripped and tightened in his shirt. “I couldn’t go back to him. I love you, Roman. I’m madly in love with you, not him.” “I love you too, Samantha.” His eyes moved over my face as if he were seeing me for the first time. “Me saying this now has nothing to do with how I feel about you or how you feel about me. I let myself fall for you when you were still another man’s woman and I wonder, had I not stepped in, would you be with Michael now?” His words struck me deep, even though I knew no matter what, I still wouldn’t be with Michael anymore. “No,” I said adamantly. “I would have left no matter what.” “We’ll never know for sure, and I don’t think I could live happily with you always wondering what if.” His voice broke as if he were about to cry, but his face remained stoic —calm as usual, while tears formed in my eyes. “What are you saying, Roman?’ I demanded. “Are you ending things?” He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stand on end. “I’m saying I’ll wait. Go back to Michael. Give your marriage one last chance and if it works, great. I’d be happy for you, I swear I would, but if it doesn’t, at least we’d both know it wasn’t because of me.” I couldn’t believe what he was saying. He couldn’t actually be asking me to go back to Michael after everything that happened over the past couple of weeks. I understood why he was saying this, but I couldn’t go along with it. “I can’t just ignore the way I feel about you and try to make my marriage work when I know I don’t love Michael anymore,” I pleaded. “If you had never come to me… if we had never met… would you still be in love with Michael?” I opened my mouth to say no. I wanted to say no, but he was right. If I had never met Roman, would I still be in love with Michael? The look on his face said he already knew the answer.

He took my face into his hands, and tears slipped down my cheeks and into his palms. He kissed them away and then kissed me. His lips were salty against my tongue. “I swear I’ll wait for you, Samantha. Always.” AN HOUR LATER, I found myself sitting outside of the house I had shared with Michael just weeks before. Duke was on his leash, staring up at it as if he were as confused as I was. The house just a big and cold as it had before, even though it felt like I’d been gone an eternity. It was never home to me. It would never be home to me, but honestly, I had nowhere else to go. I wiped away the tears falling freely down my cheeks and took a deep breath. Then I knew. I knew that no matter what, I couldn’t go back in there. Even if it was just until I found a place of my own, I couldn’t sleep in that house with him. Not with the memories of everything I’d gone through with Michael still fresh in my mind. I also couldn’t ignore everything that happened between Roman and me during the last month. Or how he helped me see everything I had been missing the last few years. I couldn’t ignore the fact that I hadn’t loved Michael in a long time. I’d accepted that it was comfort and the fear of being alone that kept me with him for so long. But more than anything, I couldn’t ignore the fact that I was irrevocably in love with someone else. Someone who moved into my world and brought me back to life. Someone who breathed love into me regardless of everything. Roman showed me the woman I was, and he loved me exactly how I was. I didn’t need to change for him. I never needed to change. Stepping away from the house and back toward the cab I’d taken, I let my eyes linger on the brick box that had contained me for so long, and in that moment, I knew what I had to do. For as long as I could remember, I had always had someone with me. My parents, Michael, and then Roman. I couldn’t remember the last time it was just me and myself—a time where I focused on what I wanted to do and what I wanted for myself. Roman was wrong—I didn’t need to try and make my marriage work anymore. It was over between Michael and me. There was no going back to that life. I was positive of that. Spending the last few weeks with Roman was heaven on earth. He was everything I now knew I deserved, but I also knew it couldn’t last the way it was. At some point, our perfect little bubble was going to pop, and it finally had. Roman had taught me a lot of things, and I would never be able to repay him for that. No matter how much of my love I gave him, it would never be the equivalent of the life he returned to me. I loved him—so much so that it hurt—but more than anyone else, I needed to love me.

I’d forgotten who I was and after finding my self-confidence, I needed to find my identity. It was time to start living for myself and until I did that, I couldn’t give myself completely to Roman. He deserved all of me and more. He deserved the real Samantha. Now I just needed to figure out who she was and where to find her.



WATCHING SAMANTHA WALK out of my condo was like watching someone rip my heart from my chest. The hurt burned in my gut, taking my breath away and making me nauseated. The second the door shut, I instantly felt like all the air in the room had been vacuumed out. I gripped the back of the couch, holding myself up with both hands until I felt the fragile fabric give way under my demanding grip. I wanted to run after her—tell her I made a terrible mistake. I wanted to beg her to forgive me for being stupid, but deep down, I knew I was doing the right thing. She needed to be the one to make the decision that things were really over with Michael without me there to confuse her. She said she loved me, and if it were real, she would still love me in a month, two months, or even in a year. God, I prayed it didn’t take her that long to return to me. I didn’t know how I was going to survive not seeing her every day. I wasn’t sure I could keep my distance from her. Actually, I knew as long as I was on American soil, I’d never be able to stay away from her. Never. Picking my phone up from the counter, I dialed and then it up to my ear. “Yes, I’d like to book the first flight to London, please.” The words burned my tongue when they rolled from it. Thirty minutes later, I was packing my bags for a red-eye flight out of the country. I hadn’t been to London in a long time, and it felt crazy to think of going home. I thought about calling my father, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to even see him while I was there. I only knew I needed to get away. I needed an ocean between me and the woman I loved. I STOOD INSIDE Heathrow Airport and stared up at the glass-and-steel framed building surrounding me. The sounds of chatty people and planes taking off filled the space. Once I collected my luggage, I went out to find a car waiting for me. I’d booked a hotel while I was in England, but instead of telling the driver to take me there, I called out my old address. Samantha was right. It was time I saw my father again. It was time I forgave him and moved past my old demons. It was gloomy out, which matched my mood. Rain spattered on the windshield as we made our way across London to the last place I’d ever expected to be again. Being on the

opposite side of the road was messing with my eyes, so I closed them until I felt the car come to a stop. Looking out of the window, my eyes took in my childhood home. The house looked just as it had when I left, with the exception of more ivy covering the bricked exterior. And a few of the trees that I remembered being small now emerged over the sidewalks, darkening the land around it. The tall, beautiful house loomed over me as I collected my bags from the back of the car. Memories of my childhood danced in the windows of my old room. My eyes skimmed Rachel’s old room before I had to look away. Stepping up the brick stairs to the walkway, my luggage bumped against each step, pulling at my arm as if there was a ghost of my old self telling me not to go in. Shaking my head, I moved closer to the front door and before I could lose my nerve, I picked up the knocker and let it hit the door three times. There was movement just inside the door, and my heart dropped when I heard the locks coming undone. And then there he was, staring back at me with squinted eyes and white hair. “Father.” The word rushed from my lips. He continued to stare until his confusion cleared, and I knew he was slowly recognizing me. “Roman? Is it really you, son?” “It’s me,” I croaked. Suddenly, the desire to cry was hard. He was old, much older than I remembered, and he was using a cane. The years had not been kind to him. And while part of me understood, considering how unkind he’d been to my mother, I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. “Can I come in?” I asked. He stepped to the side, leaning most of his weight against his cane. “This is your home, son. You’re always welcome here.” His words warmed me. I nodded, stepping into the place I used to call home, and I could practically hear Rachel’s laugher all around me. There were happy times. Times when we played and laughed. Times when I could remember both of us lying in mother’s arms while she read to us. As bad as the bad memories were, the good memories were even better. I took my things to my old room, coming down just in time for dinner. We sat at the table in silence, nibbling at the food and waiting for the other to speak. When the silence began to sound too loud, I finally spoke. “Father, I forgive you,” I said loudly so he would be able to hear me.

He looked up from his food, his eyes watering over as they met mine. He understood me. He knew what I was saying. I could see it in his eyes. The relief I had given him in that moment was priceless. I planned to leave and go back to America to get Samantha. See my father the way he was let me know I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to live. Samantha loved me. I didn’t give two bloody hells about Michael or anything he stood for. They might have been married, but she was mine. However, my father died two days later, halting my departure and crushing me. There was much to do. His estates had to be taken care of, and his practice closed. I knew it would be a while before I was able to return to Samantha, and I could only hope that she would wait for me the way I’d promised to wait for her.



I BIT MY lip and my heart felt like it was going to explode at any moment. Someone would have thought I was trying to disarm a bomb rather than mail off my signed divorce papers. I took a deep breath and let the heavy envelope teeter on the small door to the mailbox. The papers had been signed for a week now, but I’d never had the nerve to actually mail them off. I was closing a door on a large part of my life and while I wasn’t having second thoughts about my decision, it was still scary. I didn’t want to keep my marriage, but change was a huge thing to me. And making everything official was marking the beginning of a ton of changes. I was moving on, and I could only hope the same for Michael. I’d thought long and hard about letting Michael send the papers off, and just being done with it, but I knew I needed the closure. I needed to see them go into the mailbox myself. I wanted to be certain that it was done. Even though he had eventually signed the papers, Michael still held on to the hope that I’d change my mind. Once I started to show, and I came clean about the fact that I was carrying another man’s baby, he let that hope go pretty quickly. Thankfully, we ended on decent terms and while he could have, Michael didn’t bring up anything about infidelity on my part, but to speed up the process, he did admit to his. We parted mutually with a nice deposit into my checking account. “I don’t want to see you suffer, Sam. Regardless of what you think, I really do want you to be happy. And with a little one on the way, you’ll need all the help you can get,” he had said. It was funny being the equivalent of friends with a man that I’d spent so many years married to, but I supposed that was what we had become. It had been four months since Michael showed up at Roman’s door and declared his love for me. Two days later, I went to Michael to get the rest of my things and to let him know that I was not coming back. While I would always remember the man he used to be, and a small part of me would always love him, I wasn’t in love with him anymore. He was relentless at first, but soon after, he began anger management classes and I was able to see a change in him. I appreciated the gesture, but I didn’t need it. I could only hope that one day he would find a woman that made his heart beat the way Roman made mine, but I was not that woman. I never would be. Once he accepted that fact and I came clean about my mind-blowing news, he signed the papers and officially set me free.

As for me, I was happy being happy with myself. Growing to love myself and finally realizing that I was more than just a backdrop wife to Michael Aldridge. It was exhilarating. I found myself worthy, and it felt amazing. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Roman since that day four months ago, and that was the only thing that kept me from being one hundred percent happy. The truth was I missed him more than I could stand. I didn’t really know what to do with myself, but I didn’t regret the last four months. I was now a full-time Kindergarten teacher at Johnson’s Elementary, and I loved it. My students were amazing and so smart. I was proud of every one of them and in a way, I was allowed a hand in raising them. It made up for the many years I’d wanted a little one of my own and gave me glimpse of what I’d have to deal with when my miracle baby finally arrived. I had a nice apartment in the good part of town that was all mine and my car. My bills were paid, and life was easy. Except for the cloud that loomed over me on a daily basis. Roman. I didn’t want to go to him and tell him about the baby, even though I knew it was the right thing to do. It was a scary situation because it put me in the same predicament he had been in when he told me to fix my marriage. Going to him now, I’d never know if he was with me because he loved me or if he was with me because of the baby. I’d been waiting and praying every day since the moment I’d found out I was expecting that he would come after me and confess his love, but he hadn’t. So instead of going to him, I continued to wait with hopes that I wasn’t pushing around a baby stroller by the time he finally came to me. “You still haven’t dropped it yet?” Carol whined behind me. She was also a Kindergarten teacher at Johnson’s. We’d grown extremely close. She was the closest thing I had to a girlfriend. I smiled at her dramatics and chewed my bottom lip. “Hush, woman. I’m getting there,” I responded. “Come on, Samantha. It’s time you do this,” she said with a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Oh, whatever. You just want me to hurry so you can flirt with the barista at Starbucks.” I snorted. “Truth.” She giggled. “But I mean it. You can do this,” she cheered me on. Taking a deep breath, I let the envelope drop and instantly felt the weight of the last few years drop from my shoulders. I slowly shut the mailbox door and looked over at Carol.

“Well?” she questioned. “Better than sex?” Memories of being with Roman clouded my vision. The way he looked down at me— eyes full of love—as he took my body and gave his in return. The sounds he made or the way he whispered my name when he was close to releasing his all. “Not even close,” I answered. “But it did feel really good.” Happiness filled Carol’s eyes, and she laughed. “Yay!” she yelled out. “We need to celebrate. Come on. Celebratory mochas and barista flirting is a must,” she said, taking off across the street toward Starbucks. I followed behind her, my smile making my cheeks ache. When we reached the door, she held it open for me. I wasn’t paying attention to the people coming out of the store, but I paused when I heard Carol call out to a passerby. “Hey, you!” Her voice echoed off the brick building. “Yes, you. Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome. My friend just finalized her divorce, and she needs to be kissed. Like right now.” I turned, my face flaming. “Carol, you’re being ridi…” My world stood still as I stared into the face I would never forget. Roman. He stepped closer to me, his eyes moving across my face with desperation and happiness. He looked good. No. He looked wonderful. His hair had grown out, but it still had the tousled look I loved so much. He was wearing a three-piece suit as if he was just returning from a conference, and he had opted to let a bit of facial hair grow. He looked scruffy and dangerous. He looked delicious and sexy. He looked like the man who held my heart. Grinning down at me, his whiskey eyes held mine. “Your friend said congratulations are in order.” His deep voice moved over my skin, making chills run down my spine. So many nights I longed for his smile—his voice. And there he was. Everything I wanted within arm’s reach. “They are.” My voice cracked. “I’m starting my life over.” He nodded. His smiled turned into something deeper and more meaningful. “Starting over sounds like a bloody brilliant plan.” My cheeks lifted with my smile when I realized what he was saying. “I think so, too.” Looking down, I lifted my hand between us. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Samantha Clare.”



I COULDN’T KEEP myself completely distant from Samantha. The minute I touched American soil again, I searched her out. Being in London for so many long made things easier, but still, the need to know she was okay was what pushed me to check up on her. It was bittersweet to find out she was a teacher at a school close by, that she seem to be pretty happy, and that she was single. I knew about her pending divorce with Michael, and I couldn’t help but feel downright thrilled that she hadn’t stayed with him. I waited for her to return to me on her own will, but when I couldn’t wait any longer, I stalked the Starbucks close to the school she worked at. Every day for a week, I sat at a table in the corner, sipping a drink with way too much sugar and waiting to see her beautiful face, but she never came in. And then it happened. I caught a glimpse of her through the window. My heart skipped several beats, and my breath was knocked from me. She looked exquisite—more so than I remembered. Her hair was longer and hung down her back, and her beautiful shoulders were covered by a light jacket to keep her warm. She looked fuller everywhere—her face flawless and glowing. Standing, I tossed my drink in the trash and made my way to the exit. The desire to go outside and scoop her up was strong as I pushed on the door and let the cold air from outside in. Catching the end of her conversation with a friend, my heart warmed with her voice. “No, but it felt really good,” she said, her laughter catching in the breeze and floating over me. I closed my eyes and imagined her beautiful smile And then they were moving toward me and my shoulders stiffened as I waited for her to notice me. Her friend saw me first, her eyes growing large as if she knew, and then she pointed. “Hey, you!” she yelled my way. Looking behind me, I turned back toward her and pointed at my chest to make sure it was me she was talking to. Still, Samantha had yet to look at me. “Yes, you. Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome. My friend just finalized her divorce, and she needs to be kissed. Like right now,” her friend said with a laugh. I smiled. Kissing Samantha was all I could think about since the moment she left my condo. Samantha’s face lit up with embarrassment. “Carol, you’re being ridi…” And then her eyes met mine and her words died on her lips.

Closing the distance between us, nothing else mattered but her. My eyes roamed over her body, noticing remarkable differences in her shape, but not caring. She was beautiful. She’d always be beautiful to me no matter what. And when my hand closed over hers and she spoke her first name with her maiden name, I couldn’t help the happiness that filled my heart. Meeting her gaze, I melted into her touch. “I’m Roman Blake.” My voice cracked, and I had to stop and clear my throat. “It’s nice to meet you, Samantha.” Again, her cheeks flushed. “Listen, I know this is kind of sudden, but would you like to maybe have dinner with me?” I smiled, holding my breath and hoping with everything that she would accept. “Like a date?” She lifted a brow sweetly. “Yes, like a date.” I loved the playfulness between us. And then her face cleared and she gazed up at me with worry sketched in her brows. “Actually, I’m not too sure you’d want to date me,” she said. Then it was my turn to be confused. “I’m pretty sure it’s all I’ve thought about doing for the last few months.” I stepped out of our game and had a moment of truth. “But…” she started. “But nothing, Samantha. I want to be with you forever. I would have been here sooner, sweeping you off your feet, but I went to London to see my father. I gave him forgiveness, and he died two days later.” The words flew from my mouth. Nothing but truth. “I owe you everything for talking me into going back there, but now I’m here and I’m confessing my love to you. I can’t go another minute in this life without you by my side. Please,” I begged. “Just be mine again.” Her eyes welled up with tears, and a tiny smile tugged at her lips. I couldn’t read her expression, but I knew I couldn’t take the blow of her telling me no. “Roman… I need to tell you something.” Her words were whispered and full of fear. I moved closer her. Not being able to take it anymore, I pulled her into my arms. “Whatever it is, I don’t care. I…” And then I stopped. Her thin coat was pressed tightly against me and beneath it, I felt the lump that was her stomach. Without asking, I spread her coat opened and examined her growing stomach beneath her thin, cotton shirt. Looking back up into her eyes, I swallowed hard. “Samantha?” I choked on her name. She was pregnant.

Pregnant. The world around me tilted, and I stepped away to lean against the brick wall of Starbucks. In the distance, I heard her saying my name, but I couldn’t focus. “Roman?” Her voice moved all around me. “Is it mine?” I asked. He face screwed up as if I had insulted her. I hadn’t meant to do that, but I needed to know. I had to know that she was mine and that I wasn’t too late. She nodded, sending my heart thumping so hard I felt like I might faint. “It’s yours,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to you and tell you, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you only being with me for the baby. I waited. I waited so long for you to come after me so I could be sure that it was me you loved, and now, you’re here.” Her words moved over me and although I probably should have been upset that she hadn’t come to me and told me, the reasonable parts of me understood. I’d done the same thing when I’d sent her away to save her marriage. Still, I couldn’t speak. Everything was rushing up on me and I felt so many things. Happiness. Joy. Relief. Love. “I love you so much, Roman, and if you’ll have us, I want to be yours again. I want to be yours always,” she said, pressing into my chest and wrapping her arms around me. Us. My child was tucked away sweetly in her womb. My child. Mine. Cupping her cheeks with my hands, I turned her face up to mine. “Always,” I whispered against her lips before I sealed my promise with a kiss.



THE NURSES WERE abuzz with the new arrival on the labor and delivery floor. She was tiny and beautiful with her momma’s dark eyes and her daddy’s sweet nose and mouth. She was born with a head full of dark, curly hair and already adored by every person who stopped to see her. Dr. Blake was the father of a beautiful baby girl, and Mrs. Blake looked great considering she’d been in labor for over twenty-four hours. Still, Dr. Blake never left her side, not even once. He bathed her warm face with a cool rag, whispering how wonderful she was and how proud he was of her. The nurses gushed over how attentive and in love he was. Rumor had it he cried once the baby was delivered —laying his forehead against his wife’s and speaking the sweetest words of love while kissing her softly. They were a beautiful couple and the newborn, little Rachel Elizabeth Blake, was sure to grow up in a beautiful home full of love.







T H E W R AT H O F S I N Copyright © 2016 by Tabatha Vargo & Melissa Andrea All Rights Reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events or real people are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. T H E W R AT H O F S I N / TA B AT H A VA R G O / M E L I S S A A N D R E A Book design by Inkstain Interior Book Designing Editing provided by Editing4Indies







I’m not a murderer, but fury will make you do irrational things. I need my vengeance. Therefore, she must die. But revenge is bittersweet when desire overpowers your reason. She threatens everything. I don’t want to feel human again, and that’s how she makes me feel. She calls me SIN, and she will feel my WRATH.

Pleasure. Passion. Lust. Those were all foreign to me. I needed something more. But when I met him, I got more than I bargained for. I’m sick with desire for my keeper. He’s a mystery—an enigma. His agony is evident in every painful touch. I want to rescue him, but I must save myself first. I call him SIN, and he’s the epitome of LUST.





THE ALLURING SCENT of her hovered around me, creeping into my senses and filling my blood with sparks of fire. It had been so long since I’d been close to a woman. My body was going into overdrive—greedy for her touch—begging for her depths. It was a reminder of all the things I’d missed over the last six years. She pressed against me, the contours of her perky breasts visible through her silk top. I pulled her closer and locked my arms behind her back. Her thick, russet hair stuck to my sweat-covered cheeks, and instinctively, I breathed in the brief hint of her strawberry shampoo. She smelled amazing—edible—like one of those fruit arrangements people had delivered to their home. I’d never personally received one, but it didn’t matter. I wanted to cover her flesh in chocolate and feast on her. Parts of me that I hadn’t used in years sprang to life, almost making me forget the reason I was there with her in the first place. Again, she moved and I pulled her closer, lining her body against mine and allowing my hard cock to dig into her stomach. I wasn’t going to let her go. I was finally going to get what I wanted. Her sharp teeth cut into my bicep and I hissed loudly at the sting puncturing my skin. I tugged on her ponytail and she released my flesh. Bringing her face to face with me, I grinned down at her. She was as good as mine. Trapped.

There was no escaping me. “What are you going to do?” she asked. Her voice was thick and husky—that of a passionate woman in the midst of release. She swallowed hard and her throat worked up and down, taunting me. I pressed my nose to her neck and breathed her in once more. It was going to be a long while before I was this close to a woman again. Her femininity moved me beyond distraction. Her lust-filled expression promised everything my body craved, but I had to stay the course. Looking down into her fevered eyes, I took a deep breath. “What do you think I’m going to do?” I reached down and grabbed her ass cheeks, pulling her into my stiff, throbbing dick. “A life for a life. It’s only fair. She was taken from me; now, I’m taking you from him.”



“I’M SORRY FOR your loss,” the preacher said as he patted my back. I nodded to him and watched as he slowly limped toward his car. I wanted to respond to him, but no words seemed to squeeze past my paralyzed vocal cords. I felt numb. As if the major parts of me had died with her. I should have died with her. God knows I wanted to. The few who did attend the funeral attempted to talk to me. As if on autopilot, I nodded to each of them. The slight gesture was all I was capable of. They said the same things anyway. If I heard one more time how sorry everyone around me was, I was going to snap. They didn’t know the grief that buried itself into my core. It was a vile emotion that dug deep and rotted you from the inside out. I knew sorrow; they didn’t. They could never understand how black my soul was. How scorched I became the second she took her final breath. I’d never been a crying man. Even as they lowered my baby girl into the ground, I couldn’t muster the appropriate amount of tears. I was beyond crying. The pain I felt was more intense than any pain I’d felt in my life, but I’d made promises, and I’d honor them. As they continued to lower Chelsea into her eternal resting place, I could still hear the whisper of her small request. “Don’t cry, Daddy. I don’t want to see you cry anymore. Promise me you won’t.”

Her tiny voice danced through my memory like the melody of a tinkling music box before cleaving into my heart and leaving me breathless. I’d given her my word. I buried her with a single white rose resting against her chest. Her blond hair curled just so with a white ribbon weaved through her curls. She looked as if she were asleep— her long lashes resting against her blushed cheeks. I expected her to wake with a smile for me, but she never did. Her innocence was a mask because I knew she was a fighter. She’d fought hard all the way until the end—gripping at life with greedy hands and holding on until her small frame couldn’t any longer. Thinking back, I felt bad knowing she’d fought harder for me than she had for herself. Heart failure. That was what took her away from me. An old man’s illness. Not something that should claim the life of a young and vibrant little girl. I could hardly believe it. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t been there the moment she took her last breath. Whose six-year-old child dies from heart failure? Mine. It wasn’t natural. She was supposed to outlive me. She should be watching my lifeless body lower into the ground. Not the other way around. It was the way of things. I’d watched her come into the world, and she was supposed to watch me leave. I stayed by her grave until the last of the mourners were gone and they were beginning to cover her with dirt. I stayed until the sun was low in the sky, promising darkness that I already felt within. Darkness and pain, that was all there was. The agony sliced so deep into my center, it took precedence over the rest of my senses. Rain ran down my cheeks and dripped onto my perfectly starched collar. I hadn’t even noticed it was raining. Muddy water puddled around my feet and started to soak into the black dress shoes I’d bought at Target the day before. Chelsea would’ve loved seeing me in a suit. The last time I wore one I was burying her mother. Being that she was only a week old, she had no memory of that moment in our lives. Jeans and work T-shirts was all she’d ever seen me wear. It wasn’t fair. She was supposed to see me dressed up for her, but not like this. On her graduation day or her wedding day, but never like this. Chelsea didn’t live long enough to enjoy her first day of first grade or her senior prom. She’d never know the hurt of a broken heart or the joy of marrying the person you couldn’t live without. I had that person and I lost her. Chelsea was the only reason I made it through, but now that she was gone too, I had no reason to live left.

No reason to wake up. No reason to breathe. The day her heart stopped, mine stopped too.

THE WEEK FOLLOWING Chelsea’s burial, I thought about suicide more than any sane person should. Four of the stages of grief and loss weighed heavy on me, crushing each of my attempts to breathe. But the fifth stage, acceptance, was the only one I skipped. I refused to accept that she was gone. I refused to believe I was alone in the world. I kept the four stages on repeat, torturing myself by never attaining the relief of acceptance. Denial and isolation—I’d sit alone in my small, one-bedroom apartment and dwell on it. She wasn’t really gone. Her heart hadn’t given out on her. The cardiologist who said there was nothing more they could do was really going to keep trying. Anger—why hadn’t the cardiologist tried harder? Why did he give up so easily on Chelsea? Was she just another patient to him? Another black spot on his record? She was more than that to me. Her death was his fault. He didn’t try hard enough. He should have tried harder. Bargaining—I begged God to take me instead. I swore that if he brought her back, I’d take her place. At the very least, he could take me too, and we could be together. I couldn’t be away from her. And then I’d sink deeper into my depression and find myself repeating the stages as I shifted through the maze of empty containers, old newspapers, and random trash scattered around the apartment floor. I was back at denial and isolation. Before Chelsea died, I’d sold the quaint two-bedroom house we’d lived in since she was born. It was the last thing I owned, but I needed the money more. It paid for her hospital bills and her funeral expenses. With the leftover money, I was able to afford the dark hole I was living in. Most mornings, I’d wake in a panic reaching for my daughter, only to find myself in a strange, empty space without even a single memory of her in sight. I couldn’t bear to look at pictures. I couldn’t take seeing anything that even belonged to her. Because of that, I had it packed up in storage close to where I lived. “Fuck!” I cursed loudly as I stubbed my big toe on the corner of the only piece of furniture in the living room. I lived… No, I roamed in complete darkness all day, only getting up to piss and drink. I couldn’t even remember when I’d last eaten. My current diet consisted of anything over

eighty proof. It kept the edges of my emotions numb, which was the only way I could survive. Walking past my cell, I saw that it was blinking. I never checked it. It’s not like I didn’t know who was calling and leaving messages. I only had one person left, and I wanted her to stay as far away from me as possible. I was death. I was shrouded in a darkness that consumed everyone in my world. The people who loved me died. I basically killed them myself. So I pushed her far away. I pulled open the fridge door and the inside light stung my eyes. When I caught a whiff of the foul smell that filled the air around me, my stomach lurched into my throat. The day-old liquor in my system burned my chest, and I stumbled toward the sink, just making it in time to toss everything. My elbows locked as I braced my arms against the cold aluminum and vomited until there was nothing left in me—until my sides hurt and my brain felt like it was going to pop. When I felt like I could stand without the help of the countertop, I moved to the open fridge, grabbed another bottle, and shut the door again. I was taking a long swig of Jack when I heard the first pound on the door. I froze, not even breathing while I waited for whoever was on the other side to go away. They knocked harder and louder, but I made no move to answer. “Mr. Grayson?” The landlord. What the fuck did he want? I was good with the rent, seeing as how I’d paid for a few months in advance so I wouldn’t have to see him or anyone. Another set of knocks came. They were different—louder and angrier. “Jacksin Grayson!” Constance, my sister, called out. “You open this fucking door right now or I’ll break it down,” she screeched. A groan ripped from my chest as I fell back against the couch and roughly rubbed my forehead. What the hell is she doing here? Couldn’t she take the hint? Break down the damn door, Constance, because I sure as shit ain’t opening it. The knocking stopped and the room around me went quiet. I breathed a sigh of relief. Closing my eyes, I relished in the stillness I’d become accustomed to. There was no more laughter, no more whispered games to fill the hours of my day. There was nothing but the monster inside my head, and he was a mean fucker.

A loud thud broke the brief silence and the sound of cracking wood echoed as my door was thrown in. Fuck. My sister was such a bitch sometimes.



I DIDN’T MOVE, NOR did I open my eyes as light from the open door flooded the dark room, scaring away the demons and chasing the shadows into the corners. There was a moment of stunned silence as the two who had barged in caught a glimpse of my surroundings. It had been so long since I’d seen anything in the room in the light, but I couldn’t care enough to do anything about it. “Oh, my God …” Constance’s voice faded as she took a hesitant step inside the apartment. I still hadn’t moved and that prompted her question. “Jacksin? Are you dead?” I turned my head toward her and opened one eye against the light. “If I say yes, will you go away?” “No, but I will kick your ass.” “That’s a little morbid, don’t you think?” “Pretending to be dead is a little morbid.” “Who says I’m pretending?” “Thank you, Mr. Reidy. I’ve got it from here.” The old man looked hesitant to leave Constance alone with me, and I didn’t blame him. I wanted to tell him to take her with him, but Constance had a look in her eyes that said she wasn’t about to go without a fight. “What are you doing here?” I barked, turning away from the light and staring at the ceiling.

“Apparently, I’m saving your ass. What’s that ungodly smell?” “Death,” I whispered as I sat up to set my empty bottle on the table in front of me. Empty bottles covered the table. I shook a few of them, hoping a couple of swigs were left, but it was highly unlikely that I’d let any go to waste. I nearly said a silent prayer when I found one half-full, which was odd since I no longer believed in God or any higher power. I’d spent most of the last four months of my life on my knees, praying for a miracle that never came. I’d depended on God or some supreme being to give my daughter her health back, but the devil himself answered me. Depending on faith and doctors was a joke and a total waste of time. I sat back and took a drink of the warm amber liquid. The minute it hit my stomach, it rolled, but I ignored it and took another swig while Constance tiptoed behind me. I didn’t blame her. There was no telling what was on the floor or what kind of death trap might be waiting for her. “This place is disgusting, Jax.” Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as she jumped, ran, and then jumped again until she reached the wall. “So go away. No one asked you to come here.” I turned toward her but realized too late what she was doing. She threw open the curtains and sunlight flooded the room. My skin felt as if it was burning, and I went momentarily blind. “Shit!” I cursed and turned away from the harsh light, covering my head. “What the hell are you doing?” I roared. “What does it look like? I’m saving you,” she repeated. She threw open a second set of curtains letting even more sunlight in. She clapped her hands together and then frowned, wiping them down the sides of her pants. Dust, dirt, and who knew what else floated through the air, sending her through a round of coughing and choking. “Stop trying to save me, Constance. You’re wasting your time.” “You’re being dramatic, Jax. We have to air out this room. It smells like liquor and old man ass. The smell is enough to make me gag,” she said as she attempted to open the window. “How can you stand it? How can you live like this?” It was easy. I wasn’t living. “Let me take a piece of your soul and kill it. Then you can tell me if you give two fucks about how the room around you smells.” She stopped and looked at me, tears shining in her eyes. “Don’t act like her death isn’t affecting me. But I can’t lose you, too, Jax. I refuse to be

left here alone, so you will stop ignoring my phone calls and my visits. You will stop ignoring me because I’m not going anywhere.” She swiped at an escaped tear and blew a piece of hair from her eyes. “Now, get your ass up and take a shower. I’m pretty sure the foul smell is you. Then I’m taking you to get some food in your stomach. After that, we’re going to the recycling place. There’s at least a hundred dollars’ worth of bottles in here. Hopefully, your liver hasn’t taken a shit on you.” I shrugged. “I’m not that lucky.” “Enough with the death talk. You’re alive, and she wouldn’t want you to be living like this.” “I think there are a lot of things she would and wouldn’t have wanted. I think dying takes priority over how I choose to live my shitty life.” “You’re wrong. She was selfless and we both damn well know that. She’d be devastated to see you like this. Live for her, Jacksin. She was deprived of life, but you weren’t. Don’t disrespect her memory like this.” “Enough, Constance!” I growled menacingly. She was walking on dangerous ground, and I was afraid of the reaction that was going to erupt from me. I wasn’t typically a hostile man, especially with my baby sister, but her words were only making me crazier. “It’s enough when you get off your ass. You have to have faith.” I barked a laugh and turned murderous eyes on her. “Faith? Are you fucking kidding me right now? Do you honestly believe that after everything that’s happened, I’d have any trust in faith or God?” Sadness consumed her expression. “There was nothing that could be done, Jax. The hospital, the doctors … they did everything they could for her.” “I’m calling fucking bullshit on that.” “So you’re saying they let her die?” she asked, outraged. “Why would they do that? Because of money? Power? Ego?” “Yes! All of the above, goddammit! They dragged their damn feet during her entire stay there.” “They can’t do that, Jax. It’s unethical.” “Do you think they give a fuck about ethics?” “They want to save lives. That’s how they make the money that feeds their ego and gives them power.” I frowned. Something about what she said sparked a thought in my head, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It teased the surface of my thoughts as I tried to grasp whatever it was, but I couldn’t.

I shook away the feeling and sat up, trapping my head between my hands. “It doesn’t matter. She’s dead and nothing I can say or do is going to change that. There’s also nothing you can say or do that’ll change this”—I motioned to the space around us—“so please stop trying, Constance. I’m a death trap and you’re better off staying as far away as you possibly can.” I knew she was crying, and I hated myself for making her so upset, but it had to be that way. I was quickly spiraling into a black hole of nothingness and I wasn’t about to bring her with me. I stood up and turned away from the only person left who could actually love the monster I was becoming. I walked away from her because she was dangerous to my emotions. Because every time I looked into her sad face, I wanted to live again. I didn’t want to feel alive. It wasn’t fair to Chelsea. “Go away, Constance. I don’t want to see you right now.” Probably ever again. “So stop trying to save me and stop trying to clean up my mess. Just go away.” I walked into my bedroom and slammed the door on her.

NIGHTMARES HAUNTED MY sleep as I tossed and turned, tangling myself in sweaty sheets. Rain pounded on my window, clawing at the glass like liquid demons trying to drown me. My eyes moved around the dark room and landed on the alarm clock by my bed. Two AM. Reliving every one of Chelsea’s lasts, including her last breath, had become a tortured nightly ritual. I hated sleeping. Everything felt real in my nightmares, but the terror that woke me this time was different. I blamed Constance’s visit for the new nightmare. It had to be her visit. I lived every day the same. Alcohol. Sleep. Depression. Her appearance was the only change in my daily routine. I dreamed that Chelsea was standing in front of me, pleading with me not to kill her. Her tiny pink-painted toes peeked out from beneath her white nightgown. As tears slid down her baby-soft cheeks, they turned to puddles of blood covering her pink toes and surrounding her small feet.

I woke calling out to her with the taste of blood in my mouth. I’d bitten my tongue during all the tossing and turning. With my heart pounding at a dangerous speed and sweat beading at my hairline, I jumped out of my bed. I barely made it to the bathroom before my stomach lurched and I lost everything for the second time. I couldn’t move so I sat there with my head in the toilet. The disgusting smell of piss and vomit assaulted me, making me gag. Ten minutes later, I pushed myself up from the cold tile floor and rinsed out my mouth. I’m going insane, I thought as I splashed icy cold water on my face. The reflection of a man I didn’t recognize stared back at me and I wished I felt something—anything—toward him. I’d aged years over the last few months. Wrinkles no twenty-eight-year-old man should have dug into my skin. My eyes were dull and pale, sunken in deep and surrounded by permanent black smudges. My once tanned skin was pasty and hidden behind a face full of hair. I couldn’t look at myself any longer. Flipping the light switch, I encased myself in the darkness. Lying back on my bed, I kicked away the damp sheets and blankets. The blades of the fan above me spun on high, and the noise reminded me of the hospital machines. I closed my eyes against the memories, but they played on behind my eyelids, over and over. Some of my worst memories revolved around the hospital. I’d spent night and day there. The nurses even set up a cot for me at the end of Chelsea’s bed. I woke with her every time they had to prick and poke her or run another test. The final day haunted me the most. It was glued to the forefront of my conscience. Taunting me. Playing on repeat every second of every day. My daughter died at nine fifty on Thursday, January 1st. Happy New Year to me. What should have been a day to celebrate a new beginning was the worst day of my life. She was being prepped to move to another hospital for what was supposed to be her final surgery. This surgery was supposed to allow her to go home, but she never made it out of the bed she’d lain in for the last few weeks of her life. She died in the hospital room that was our home, surrounded by pictures she’d spent most of her time painting. My heart knocked against my chest as I reached over and grabbed my wallet from the table beside my bed. Flipping it open, I pulled out my favorite of all her paintings. She’d painted her and me at the beach. Blue swirls made up the ocean. A tiny gray triangle, a shark fin in the waves. It was magical. Painted perfection.

It was the day that would never come to be. The doctors swore there was nothing they could have done, but I knew that was a damn lie. They could’ve given her the surgery earlier, but they insisted that my insurance wouldn’t cover the procedure. Insurance. Money. It made the world go ‘round. Doctors were greedy bastards who put their wallets before the lives of others. That was the reason we had to wait to be moved to another hospital for her surgery. They want to save lives! Constance’s words sparked something inside me that I couldn’t place. They sat in the pit of my stomach and simmered, cooking my guts on low. I closed my eyes, squeezing them until white spots formed and all I could hear were the voices of the doctors in the hall outside Chelsea’s room. It was the day before her transfer. The attending cardiologist said it was necessary, but Mr. Super Cardiologist was just a money-grubbing piece of shit. It hadn’t been a good day for Chelsea; she’d felt particularly bad and was exhausted by the time the nurses left her to sleep. I stayed with her, holding her tiny hand in mine until she drifted off to sleep. Seeing her sleeping peacefully, I stumbled over to my cot. The cardiologist came in to check on her and assured me that I didn’t need to get up. He’d said it was a routine checkup to get her ready for transfer the following day. I waited until he was out of the room before I let my eyes shut, but I remember hearing him talk to a doctor just outside the door. Sleep begged me to let go, but I held on, listening to the conversation I’d forgotten until now. “How is she, Steven?” “She’s a fighter. She’ll need the surgery and soon.” “Are you going to perform it?” “Unfortunately, I’ve reached my pro bono limit for the year. We’re transferring her tomorrow.” I started to feel lightheaded and I lifted my knees, dropping my head between them. I covered my ears, trying to hide from the ringing raging through the silence. I’ve reached my pro bono limit. I’ve reached my pro bono limit. I’ve reached my pro bono limit. His words spun through my head, beating into my brain like a sledgehammer until I

felt like I was going to be sick again. I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but my gut was telling me I wasn’t going to like the answer. I was angry with myself for being too tired—for ignoring what had been right in front of my face. Could I have saved her? If only I had paid attention. If only I hadn’t been so tired. Was I as much to blame for her death as he was? It wasn’t until I heard the crinkle of paper that I realized my hands had balled into fists and I was crushing Chelsea’s picture in my palm. I smoothed out the painting, holding it so I could study the detail—the beach, her long blond hair, and how intricately she’d painted my smile. She could have been an artist. She could have been anything she wanted, but now, she was just a memory. The corner of the paper melted and I ran my thumb over the wet spot. Tears. My tears. They were falling uncontrollably. My body shook with my sobs, but the rain against my window drowned out the noise. I couldn’t stop them, and I told myself I wasn’t breaking my promise because I wasn’t crying over what was. I was crying over what would never be.



I LAY IN BED until the sun cut through a tiny hole in one of my worn curtains. My mind was running a mile a minute; I couldn’t stop reliving that night in the hospital and remembering what they’d said. I wasn’t sure what I planned on doing with this newfound memory, but I couldn’t find it in me to just let it go. Justice needed to be served. Crawling out of my bed, I went to the refrigerator and pulled it open. Bottles clinked together and echoed throughout the kitchen. For the first time in a while, I was starving, but there was no food in my apartment. Going back to my bedroom, I reached down and grabbed a dirty shirt from the floor. Giving it a quick sniff, I decided it wasn’t too bad and pulled it over my head. Black smudges covered my jeans and the shirt had a few stains, but I pulled on my hoodie and went to the door. I stood there in front of it, anxiety over leaving my secure space slamming into me like a wrecking ball. I hadn’t left the apartment much since her funeral and the days of the week had begun to blur. How long ago did I leave my baby in the cold earth all alone? Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and pulled open the door. Once outside, the sun blinded me and I coughed around the fresh air that filled my lungs. It felt unnatural to be in the light where people walked by and smiled as if life was good.

It wasn’t. Life was shit. Fuck life with a big piece of broken glass. I pulled out of my parking space and into traffic, driving with the purpose of finding food. Golden arches blazed in the distance, and I found myself pulling into the McDonald’s drive-thru. On the drive home, I tried to focus on the road only, ignoring the people around me, but I couldn’t. I watched them move like herds on the sidewalks. Every one of them oblivious to the war of hate and grief raging inside me. And then I saw a familiar face. I jerked when I saw the flash of familiarity and swerved my car. The sound of squealing brakes, blaring horns, and angry shouts followed behind me as I pulled into an underground parking garage. I didn’t have the time to find a parking spot, so I stopped my car in the middle of the garage lane. Putting it in park, I bolted. The concrete was hard beneath my boots as I ran in search of the familiar face. And then he was there. Chelsea’s cardiologist. Hate reared its ugly head, blazing my cheeks with fire. It was fate that I’d see him again. I had a few choice words and a fist waiting for him. Pushing my way through the maze of people, I ignored their aggravated shouts as I shoved off them. I stepped on toes and fell against the glass of an Italian restaurant, prompting the diners to look at me with shocked eyes, but I didn’t care. I felt nothing. As I approached him, he was busy talking on his phone. I wasted no time as I roughly grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. I pushed him into the wall and pressed my arm across his chest. My fist flew into the air, aimed and ready. And then everything froze. Adrenaline was coursing through my body, clouding my vision and making me see things that weren’t there. My crazy mind was playing tricks on me. The man in front of me wasn’t familiar at all. It wasn’t him. The stranger didn’t say anything as I lowered my arm and let go of his shirt. A crowd of shocked passersby gathered around us and I was sure one of them had probably already called the police. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, disappearing into the crowd toward my car. I needed to get the fuck out of there. I needed to be in the darkness alone.



MY MIND WAS buzzing as I walked into my apartment building and through the lobby. I stopped when I spotted the ancient desktop computer and the sign that said free use for tenants. The chair squeaked when I sat in it and turned on the screen. I opened the browser and began typing. It didn’t take me long to find what I was looking for. The magic of the internet. Its slogan should be Making stalking possible since 1973. I scribbled down what I needed on the paper at the desk and closed out the page. My chair scuffed against the floor as I got up and made my way to my apartment. Inside, I devoured my food, often forgetting to chew. I was hoping that having a full stomach was going to help me think clearly, but no such luck. I stared at the piece of paper in my hand until the letters and numbers blurred together. I didn’t know what I was going to do with the info, but I knew I had to see him again. Energy and motivation were my only friend at the moment, and I leaned on its shoulder to get up and take a shower. Constance was right; I did smell like old man ass. The hot water felt fucking great against my skin, and I stayed under its spray for nearly an hour before it started to run cold. Finishing up, I pushed open the curtain and ran a towel over my body. I rubbed the towel over my hair, then hung it around my neck and walked naked into the room. It was getting dark, but I wanted to skip sleep. I was too anxious about the following day, but mostly, it was because I wanted to sidestep the nightmares. However, it’d been so long since I’d been this productive that I felt exhausted, and the minute my head hit the pillow, I was out. I dreamed of him. He was begging for my forgiveness in utter fear on his knees in front of me. It wasn’t my forgiveness he needed; it was Chelsea’s. And it was his own fault that he’d never get it. I was going to be his death, and I’d have no mercy as I wrapped my hands around his neck and choked the life out of him. Everything grew dark and then there was a moment of doubt as I watched the light fade from his pale face. Suddenly, I heard her calling my name. I froze. Chelsea standing behind him, watching me, watching the monster I’d become. Her eyes sparkled with confusion, and she looked so tiny—so fragile—standing there bathed

in a soft golden glow. She was the epitome of everything pure and innocent. She was goodness and light. She’d been the one to keep me sane and happy. She’d made me a better man. But without her, nothing left in me was redeemable. He’d taken her away, and now, he was left to face the consequences of his actions. “Close your eyes, baby girl. Don’t watch Daddy,” I told her softly. And then she was gone and so was my doubt. I looked down at him and finished what I started; choking him until blood dripped from his lips and my fingers ached.



HOSPITALS AREN’T CAREFUL with their files. I was able to find Dr. Gelding, aka the child killer cardiologist, so easily. I became sick with the desire to watch him live his life. I’d watch as he walked to his expensive Mercedes-Benz, and then like the crazy fuck I knew I was turning out to be, I’d follow him to his massive house and watch him go inside. My raw hate for the man who watched Chelsea take her last breath without even trying to help, helped me make it through life. Day by day, it grew, until my rage for him nearly blinded me. The pain I felt was his fault, and he deserved to feel the same kind of hurt. He deserved it and more. Stalking him made me feel better—more alive. As long as I focused on the doctor, I didn’t think about the fact my daughter was no longer with me. But soon, just hating him wasn’t enough. I needed more. I craved more. I couldn’t stand it, and I had to do something—anything—to breathe again. At that moment, I made a decision. The doctor had to go. I was obsessed. I knew deep down I should seek help. I wasn’t a stupid man. I knew I was sick in the head, but I’d never asked for help before. Why bother now? So I moved on with the next step of my plan. The blink of light and a low hiss of surging electricity buzzed above me as I watched

the neon sign for the hole-in-the-wall Chinese place flash. It was dark, and the streets were nearly empty. It wasn’t exactly the perfect setting for a nightly stroll with your lover, but it was perfectly cliché for the reason I was there. I matched the address on the piece of paper to the building, confirming for the tenth time that it was correct. Checking my watch, I noted that he was twenty minutes late. A bad feeling crawled up my spine, tingling at my neckline. A boom of obnoxious laughter across the street momentarily caught my attention. A group of guys moved down the sidewalk, getting louder as they got closer. I pulled the collar of my jacket up and around the lower part of my face, avoiding eye contact. I was there for one reason and one reason only. I didn’t want to attract any attention, but I looked like a creeper standing there alone. One of the guys caught my gaze, intimidation locked the features of his thin face, but I kept it natural as they passed. Show no fear. Not once did I turn my back to him. He lifted his hand toward me, two fingers pointed out and his thumb in the air before flicking his wrist as if he were shooting me with a gun. “Comforting, isn’t it?” The low, gritty voice came from behind me, but I didn’t turn around until the group was fading into the darkness. “You’re late,” I snapped, finally facing the man. He wasn’t at all what I expected to find, but then again, I wasn’t really sure what I expected him to look like. “I needed to make sure you were legit.” “And?” “I’m here, aren’t I? Besides, Frank said you were trustworthy.” “That’s not saying much since I wouldn’t say the same for Frank.” There’s always that one friend you have from high school that continued his bad boy ways through college and into adulthood. Frank was the notorious drug dealer in my old group of friends, and he still was. His connections actually came in handy for once. “Lucky for you, I don’t feel the same way.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his worn-out hoodie and looked up at me with bloodshot eyes. His face was thin, the effects of the massive amount of poison he ingested into his body on a daily basis. Fucking drug addicts. He twitched nervously at the way I watched him, and with bony fingers, he pushed back the messy strands of greasy hair from his face. “Lucky me, right,” I scoffed.

“Do you have the money?” he demanded impatiently, looking around suspiciously. He couldn’t have been more obvious. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have the money.” I pulled two thick envelopes from my pocket. “Are we going to do this or what?” I asked when he still hadn’t moved to deliver his part of the deal. He seemed hesitant before he pulled out a large envelope from the inside of his jacket and handed it to me. “It’s everything you need to start over again. Who said money can’t buy second chances, right?” I didn’t say anything as we made the switch. Opening the envelope, I fingered the documents, making sure they were all there. Satisfied, I tucked it into my jacket. “Thanks,” I mumbled. “No, thank you,” he cooed, running his thumb across the money. He smiled at me, showing off a set of rotted teeth. I pointed at the second envelope I gave him. “Inside are all the details you need to finish our agreement.” “Don’t forget the rest of my money,” he drawled. “By the way, my name’s Carl.” “Don’t fuck this up, Carl.” I pulled on the baseball cap I was wearing, bringing it down low over my eyes, and nodded, getting into my car. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” he yelled through my window. I ignored him. Fuck if I was giving some lowlife junky my name. He needed a fix, and I needed a job done. Period. End of story.

I TOSSED AND turned all night, but that wasn’t anything new. I was ready for everything to be over with. When I was free of him, I’d be free of the monsters. Free of the nightmares. Free of me. The following Saturday, Dr. Gelding had the day off. There wasn’t much I didn’t know about the doctor. What I hadn’t figured out by following him, the internet provided. Today was the day.

It was now or never. He was scheduled to leave for London to visit a dying brother the following day. After a simple call to his office and a little sweet-talking to his secretary, I was able to confirm his travel plans. He wouldn’t be on that plane, and his dying brother wouldn’t have the comfort of his good-bye. I sat in my car a few spots down from his house, waiting and mentally going through my checklist. Several trips to Home Depot had taken care of everything I needed to pull it off. I hadn’t thought it wise to buy duct tape, plastic wrap, a shovel, and poison in one trip. It was all tucked away in the trunk of my car. I shifted in my seat when he walked out of his house, locking up. Zero-two-one-two, I repeated in my head. It was the code for his security system. He was dressed up, a suit and tie draped his tall frame. He had a dinner date with someone tonight, and by his demeanor, he was excited about it. Following him, I ended up at a fancy restaurant on the other side of town. I parked across the street and watched him get out in front of the valet service. He pocketed his ticket and disappeared into the restaurant. The valet took his car, parking it behind an empty building next to the restaurant. The radio buzzed as I patiently waited. Switching stations every few songs, I sat as if everything were normal and I wasn’t about to kidnap the man who’d killed my daughter. Two hours later, he pushed through the doors and into the warm night air. With his hands in his pockets, he wore a hint of a smile. His body swayed slightly, and I knew it was a sign of the expensive liquor flowing through his system. He looked back at the doors of the restaurant and I frowned. He was waiting for someone. For the first time, I felt a surge of panic. What if he was planning to bring whoever it was home with him? The valet kid approached him and took his ticket. Before he could scramble off to fetch the car, the doctor stopped him, asking him a question. The kid pointed in the direction his car was parked. I didn’t know what was going on as they exchanged more words before the kid turned around and grabbed something from the podium. He handed it to the doctor and I caught the flash of light from his keys. He was going to walk to his car. I made a quick decision and pulled my keys from the ignition and got out of my car. He couldn’t bring someone home with him. I needed to get creative. I waited for the traffic to clear before I jogged across the street and pulled my hoodie over my head. Once I was at the corner of the restaurant, I could hear the music coming from inside, the laughing people on the patio, and I could smell the food. I took another step in the

doctor’s direction. The door to the restaurant opened and laughter followed the group coming outside. It distracted me and my steps slowed. For the first time since I started following him, the doctor smiled a real smile. He was looking at the group of people and I couldn’t pick out which person he was smiling at. And then she stepped out from the group and everything stopped. Her smile lit up the dark night. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in a professional ponytail. Diamond studs sparkled in her ears as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. When she backed away, her smile reached her soft blue eyes and knocked the breath from my lungs. She was extraordinary—beautiful from the tip of her dark waves, past her perfect upturned nose and full lips, and all the way past her white dress that fit her entirely too perfectly. Her European skin against the crisp white fabric made the dress appear as if it were glowing. She was glowing. She was happy to see the man I despised so deeply, and it pissed me off more that he had someone in his life who looked at him with such love and I didn’t. It didn’t matter who she was to him. Girlfriend. Wife. Baby sister. Daughter. Co-worker. None of it mattered. He had someone as lovely as her in his life, smiling at him with such fondness that it made my stomach turn. It wasn’t fucking fair. She leaned up and kissed his cheek before they made their way toward me. I was frozen in place as they got closer, stopping next to me. Both of them seemed oblivious to my existence. I finally found the will to move and I stepped away from them. Their conversation was whispered, and when she laughed, the sound was like a caress. Their good-byes were louder, giving me time to prepare myself. I waited for a second before turning around. I had a plan to follow, but instead, I ran right into her. A startled sound exploded from her soft lips as we collided. She swayed against me and my first instinct was to reach out and hold her, but she grabbed onto my arms first. “Sorry,” she muttered. The faint smell of something smooth and out of my price range swirled around my head. “I never drink this much. Good thing I’m taking a cab, huh?” She rambled on without noticing my lack of response. Smiling up at me, she blew a piece of flyaway hair from the side of her mouth. The same rich smell attacked me, and the sudden need for a drink, preferably from her, was strong enough to make me do something even more stupid.

“I don’t normally drink this much. I said that already, didn’t I?” She giggled. “I don’t normally talk this much,” she said as if we’d just had an entire conversation. And then she seemed to realize her hands were still on me, something I didn’t have the luxury of forgetting. “Sorry,” she said again, letting go of my arms. Moving away from her, I set temptation out of the way. My silence didn’t seem to put her off. She continued to smile at me, her eyes sparkling. If only she knew the kind of person she was really looking at. “Good night,” she said before she nodded and walked around me. I knew if I left right then, I could still catch the doctor before he got to his car. I could still follow him home as I’d planned. I could still finish the job I started. Turning toward the girl, I watched as she stood on the curb, hailing a cab. I was there for the doctor. I was there because my hate for him was too strong to deny, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from the girl. She slid into the backseat and our eyes connected through the glass as the cab waited to pull into traffic. And then something happened that I didn’t expect. A part of me I thought was gone forever responded. My heart beat. I quickly snapped out of it and made my way back to my car. I cranked my engine, knowing what had to be done, but for some unknown reason, when the cab finally pulled away, it was her that I followed.



“AND HOW DOES that make you feel?” I asked, crossing my legs and scribbling in my notebook. It was the typical question asked by a therapist, but I’d found it actually helped find out more about my patient’s feelings. If I could relate to their problems, I was meeting them on an emotional level they needed. It comforted them to know I understood what they were feeling. “It makes me feel like I can’t breathe. When I think about him, my heart hurts, and I feel like I’m dying,” Elaine said. She was one of my first patients. She suffered from panic disorder and, as of late, loneliness. I hadn’t really made much progress with her until her husband passed away a few months ago. She was grieving him, and somehow, it was making her open up. Later, after I’d spent the day with several of my patients, I left for home instead of my usual dinner with my dad since he was still working at the hospital. We’d created a routine over the years. Him being a doctor, as well, it was easy to talk to him about the hectic life I led. Not only that, but he also understood the job and my time restraints. Growing up, I always thought of my father as some kind of superhero. I adored him, and despite his long hours and absent parenting, I loved that he saved people’s lives for a living. As a little girl, I wanted to be just like him. But as I got older, I realized everything that came with being a doctor. It wasn’t all smiles and awards like my father painted it to be.

Just like anything, there was a dark side, and regretfully, I learned not everyone could be saved. In my senior year, I spent more time at the hospital. It was fascinating to observe everyone. If I could’ve stayed the long hours my father did, I would have. During one of my regular afterschool visits, a family came in through the ER. I’d never seen so much blood in my life. A father, with a look I’d never forget, carried a small, limp boy in his arms. The family was Hispanic. The father, dark skinned with a thick, black mustache that covered his entire upper lip, was crying something in Spanish. No matter how loud my brain screamed for me to look away, I couldn’t take my eyes away from the little boy he carried. Blood smeared his dark hair and it was stuck to his forehead. His head hung over the father’s arms and his eyes were closed. A car had hit him while riding his bike and then fled the scene. I had known before I saw my father rush from the back that the boy was dead. It was enough to traumatize anyone my age, but it wasn’t the actual death that I had a hard time accepting. It was the total and complete devastation on the face of the boy’s father. I couldn’t accept the heartache that came with knowing a family member would never see their loved one again. I knew death happened. But I’d never actually seen it happen. It changed everything for me that day. I knew what my father was doing was important. The sick and injured patients, they were important. But what about those behind the scenes? Who took care of the family of the patients when they faced a loss no one could understand? That night, I cried in my father’s arms and begged him to never leave me. It was a promise meant to be broken. Time was the only thing we had that wasn’t a hundred percent guaranteed, but it made me feel better anyway. The next morning, I told my father I didn’t know if I wanted to be a doctor anymore. It’s not that I didn’t think I could handle death. I could. I just knew I wanted to help others with it. He wasn’t happy with me at first, but he got over it. After I graduated with my degree, I was happy to work as a grievance counselor at the hospital. My dad thought it was a waste of my degree, and he wanted me to do more. So I appeased him and became a therapist. But being a therapist had its own issues. I was no longer dealing with grieving patients. I was dealing with the deep-set mental issues of people. And after a patient pulled a gun on me in the elevator outside my office, I enrolled in self-defense classes. So after a day of asking questions and listening to other’s problems, the short cab ride

to my apartment wasn’t exciting. Come to think of it, there really hadn’t been much excitement in my life for a while, if you took away the heathens who’d carved into the cherry-red paint of my brand new car. There was nothing like coming out to your car and seeing “Stuck-up Bitch” carved into the hood. So now, my car was in the shop and I was doomed to ride in cabs until it had a fresh paint job. Nope. Not excitement. Ethan, my sort-of boyfriend, made for a few interesting nights, but honestly, thrilling wasn’t a word I’d use to describe him. Ethan was also a doctor—a pediatrician at the same hospital my father worked at. Of course, my father felt the need to play matchmaker, and at the time, I didn’t see the harm in spending a few days a week with Ethan. I mean a girl couldn’t do much better than a pediatrician, right? Maybe so, but regardless of how good he was with children, and he was, he wasn’t good with relationships. Maybe I was just expecting too much from one man. Was it too much to ask to be with someone who could tell when I was faking it? Unfortunately, for me, I did that a lot with Ethan, and I had no interest in marrying him … ever. So when he pushed to move in together, I was quick to deter him. I couldn’t imagine being with him every night. Maybe that was bitchy of me, but I needed my space from his lack of know-how in the bedroom. It was sad to say, but I was actually happy that he was in Afghanistan on what Daddy liked to call a “charity run.” It meant more alone time for me and the TV boys I liked to spend my nights with. No way would Ethan be okay with me having my alone time, which usually consisted of old reruns of Sons of Anarchy and lots of batteries. A girl had to do what a girl had to do, and I had to do it myself if I wanted any relief. I didn’t know what he’d do if he knew I touched myself at night and fantasized about dirty bad boys, but something told me it wouldn’t go over well with him—nothing fun ever really did. I’d once asked him to spice up our relationship, and he looked at me as if I’d spoken in Latin. His fork stopped midway to his mouth, and he frowned. “What?” He lifted his glass of wine to his lips.

“Role playing. You know, when I dress up in a naughty schoolgirl outfit and you spank me with your ruler. Stuff like that.” I’d never actually seen someone spit their drink out the way the actors did in the movies, but sure as day, Ethan did. He choked, holding up a finger to me as he tried to compose himself. Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he set it on his lap and looked around, heat creeping up from his collar to rest on his cheeks. “I didn’t … uh … I didn’t think you were into … stuff like that.” Excited at the thought he might actually be into it, too, my body tingled and melted until I was shifting in my seat. I felt foolish for not asking him about this sooner. Men liked women to take charge nowadays, right? I was ready to hail for the check. “Of course!” I nearly shouted, and again, he looked around nervously. I lowered my voice this time. “I’m pretty much up for anything at this point.” “I don’t know. I’m …” He trailed off, clearing his throat and adjusting the collar of his shirt. “If you’re not into the whole schoolgirl thing, there are plenty of other roles we can do.” I was too eager to contain my excitement. “Naughty nurse, dirty maid, bad cop … We can pretty much make any occupation into something dirty. Naughty teacher, dirty—” “Emily!” Ethan rushed out, putting his hand over mine. “Will you please keep your voice down?” I looked around, but no one was paying any attention to either of us or our conversation. “I don’t understand, Ethan. I’m practically begging you to let your imagination run wild with our sex life and you’re dismissing me … I thought this was every man’s fantasy?” “I thought our sex life was okay.” I sighed, giving up on the idea altogether. I tried to explain that I didn’t want okay anymore; that it was normal to want wild, crazy, hot, earth-shattering sex. A healthy sex life was natural, but he’d been too embarrassed to continue the conversation, and all I got was a promise that one day he’d give me what I wanted. I wouldn’t hold my breath since I knew he had absolutely no idea what it was I wanted. The pencil skirts and buns I sported on a daily basis were work, but once I was home, I wanted more. I wanted passion. I wanted to burn with another person—a person who could look at me and make me desperate with desire. I didn’t want Ethan’s soft untrained touches. I wanted to be fucked—taken over the edge and drowned in ecstasy. Sometimes, I’d dream about a dark stranger with intoxicating eyes and a touch that could send me over the edge. He’d say all the right things and do everything to perfection. There were no schedules, no time restraints, just him and me and our bodies intertwined in

madness and a glorious ache he’d take away. In my dreams, he needed me, and sometimes a girl just wanted to be needed. The point was I longed for more than Ethan could ever give me. The silent quickies weren’t doing the trick, not that they ever had. I wanted naughty, and the only naughty Ethan was used to were from the toddlers he took care of at work. Daddy loved him, and that should’ve been enough, but it wasn’t. It would never be enough.



A PHONE CALL FROM my dad let me know that he was leaving the country for a bit and wanted to have dinner with me when he was done at the hospital. An impromptu trip out of the country wasn’t normal for my dad, but my Uncle Robert, my father’s brother, was in a hospital in London. It wasn’t looking too good, and both Dad and I had accepted that he probably wouldn’t make it through the month. He was older, and diabetes hadn’t been kind to his body. Knowing my dad was going to be thousands of miles away made me feel a little anxious, but I reminded myself what I reminded him all the time: I was a big girl and I could handle being away from my dad for a few days. My Fridays were always a light workday for me, with only two of my regular patients in the morning. Afterward, I had lunch at my favorite café by my office and then did some window-shopping to fill my time. We never ran out of sunny days in Scottsdale, Arizona, even in January. Spring was around the corner and I welcomed the long days by the pool. I found a cute little shop I’d never been in before and decided I had time before I had to go home and get ready. Pushing the door open, I welcomed the cool air of the charming boutique. The shop was modern and chic and completely fit for the flashy nightlife of Scottsdale. A well-poised middle-age woman came out from the back with a friendly red-lipped smile and a warm greeting. Her dark hair was in a stylish up-do and a mess of gold necklaces hung from her neck.

Her black heels tapped against the hardwood floors and gave her legs the illusion they were longer than they actually were. Her outfit, a tight, black skirt that skimmed the tops of her knees and a high-collared, ruffled-button shirt, was handpicked from the store. She was pretty—her style completely opposite of my stuffy suit. “Good afternoon! It’s a beautiful day out, isn’t it?” “Yes.” I returned her smile. “It rarely disappoints this time of year, that’s for sure.” “Are you looking for anything in particular or just here on a little guilty pleasure shopping spree?” she asked, leaning against a glass display. I laughed. “Guilty pleasure, I guess.” “Nothing wrong with a little forbidden fruit every now and then. Well, if you need any help, I’ll be right over there.” She pointed to the back. “Thank you,” I said as she walked away. I busied myself with browsing through the racks of clothes. I had no expectations of finding anything, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to look. I didn’t turn my nose up at the chic apparel, but I just didn’t know if I could pull it off. I moved through the whole store. A few things caught my attention, but when I realized I had no place to wear them, I put them back. Maybe I was the boring one, I thought with sudden panic. Maybe I attracted Ethan because, deep down, I was as dull as he was. I wanted more, but what did I do to go after it? A failed conversation to entice the man I was sleeping with and that was it. “So I know you said you weren’t looking for anything special, but I saw this in the back. It’s the only one left and I bet it’s exactly your size.” The owner saved me from my own thoughts as she emerged from the back, holding something black and shiny in her hands. “A nice pair of colored heels and a few accessories and you’ll have him on his knees, honey. What do you think? If you like it, I’ll knock off twenty percent,” she sang, trying to sweeten the pot. She held up the black dress for me to inspect. It was definitely something special— swallow-hard kind of special. The front was portrayed as a simple black dress. It was a high, wide collar with thin straps. It wasn’t until she turned it around that my knees shook a little. It plunged down to the waist, baring the entire back. It was simple but exciting. It was exactly what I needed. I was tired of being boring. I needed a change. “I’ll take it.”

“A woman who knows what she wants. I like it.” She winked at me and walked to the counter. My heart was pounding, and I felt thrilled and happy. “Wait, what color heels?” I asked as she started to wrap the dress up for me. She stopped, pursing her lips together for a moment. Then she smiled deviously. “I say red. It’s the color of sin.”

I WAS LOOKING forward to dinner with my dad. I felt happy with my impulsiveness that afternoon. It was alluring and something I could definitely get used to. I got out of the cab and smoothed down my simple white dress. I thought about wearing the black one, but I didn’t want my first time wearing it to be with my father, so I opted for something more daughter appropriate. We met at our usual place and sat at our regular table. “How was your day?” my father asked as he adjusted the cloth napkin on his lap. A young waiter stopped at our table and filled our glasses with our favorite wine. “It was nice. Any news on Uncle Robert?” I asked, swirling the noodles onto my fork. Once Uncle Rob was gone, it would only be Dad and me left. One of the many joys of coming from a small family. My mother died when I was ten from complications after plastic surgery, and I had no brothers or sisters. Sometimes, it was lonely, but as long as I stayed busy, I hardly noticed. “They said it wouldn’t be long now. Think you’ll be okay while I’m gone?” I was a daddy’s girl. I wasn’t afraid to admit that, and my dad always made sure to take care of me. That also helped with the loneliness. “Daddy, I’m a big girl. I think I’ll be okay.” I smiled at him over my glass. “Any idea when Ethan will be back around?” Dad asked as he sipped his wine. I swallowed and set down my glass easy. “I’m not sure. Maybe a few more weeks.” “It’s a waste of time, if you ask me. He should be here working. How’s he supposed to take care of my baby girl if he’s out doing charity runs?” I loved my dad, but I hated when he got stuck on his high horse. Did we have money? Yes, but that didn’t give him the right to look down on others who were less fortunate. “Daddy, what Ethan’s doing is very important. There are sick children over there, not

to mention the ones wounded in the crossfire. Afghanistan is battle-ridden territory. It’s not the children’s fault that the world is what it is.” He looked over his glass. His blue eyes pierced me before a tight smile finally broke his hardened face. “Of course, you’re right. Excuse my crass wording, sweetheart. I just don’t want to have to worry about you once I’m dead and gone.” “You’re not going anywhere, Daddy. I forbid it.” I smiled sweetly. “I won’t live forever, my dear,” he said as he patted my hand across the table. After dessert, Daddy paid the check, and I excused myself to the ladies’ room, letting him know I’d meet him outside. Passing the bar, the warm tones of liquor shined temptingly under the expensive lighting, catching my eye. I liked my wine at dinner, but I could drink the hard stuff with the best of them. I doubled back and waited for the bartender. When he made his way toward me, he smiled, and his brown eyes roamed over my body. It’d been a long time since anyone, that I’d noticed anyway, had looked at me with such open desire. It made me feel warm on the inside and a little wild. “What’s your pleasure?” His voice was dark and raspy. It made my nipples tighten and tingle in a rush. “A double shot of tequila,” I said confidently. His lips tilted on one side in what I could only describe as a panty-melting grin. “It’s always the ones who look like good girls that you have to watch out for.” He winked and set down a glass in front of me. He topped it off before leaning on the bar and holding it out to me. He was daring me to take it all and I wasn’t about to disappoint. “You have no idea,” I taunted seductively. I tipped the glass toward him before bringing it to my lips and throwing back my head. It wasn’t my first time, so I wasn’t worried about doing anything embarrassing like choking and spitting fire. I set down the glass and smiled. “Thank you,” I said. Sliding a bill onto the counter, I paid and walked away. I made sure to add the extra bit of oomph to the sway of my hips, happy that the dress I’d chosen to wear molded to my curves. It felt fun to flirt with a random stranger. It was addicting, making me realize just how much I missed attention from the opposite sex. I got caught up in a group of people on my way out of the restaurant, but I broke free as they stopped, clogging the entrance with their good-byes. Daddy was waiting for me by the valet.

“Are they getting your car?” I asked when I didn’t see his Mercedes out front. “No. It’s right around the corner. I figured I could walk.” “Do you want me to walk with you?” I asked as we walked to the corner of the street. Happy hour had the outside patio packed, and there was a cluster of different conversations going on. Twinkle lights decorated the awnings, and the reflections caught on the drinking glasses, dancing like a million sparkles. “No, I’ll be fine, sweetheart. Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” “Yes, Daddy, I’ll be fine.” “Okay, then. I guess I’ll see you when I return.” “Tell Uncle Robert I love him, okay?” I told him, focusing back on the present. “I will.” I threw my arms around my dad and kissed him on the cheek. I watched him walk away before I turned to hail a cab. I moved faster than I meant to and my surroundings spun as I found myself in the arms of a stranger walking by. I grabbed onto his arms and steadied myself before I fell on my ass. “Sorry,” I breathed out, feeling the effects of the shot. Maybe a double with all the wine I’d had at dinner was a bad idea. I smiled up at the stranger. He was silent, but it was more comforting than off-putting. I blew a piece of hair out of my face and noted the way his eyes watched my lips. Maybe it was the sadness etched in his features or the pain he seemed to hide in his mysterious brown eyes. Maybe it was because of who I was, but the need to comfort him pulled strongly at my emotions. I was speaking, my mouth running before I was thinking, and I felt embarrassed when he still didn’t respond. His eyes moved over my face, marking my flesh and sending a wave of heat across my skin. It was thrilling. Exhilarating. The heat under my palms reminded me that I was still holding on to him, and I lifted my hands from his skin and pulled away. “Sorry.” I couldn’t move, despite our one-sided conversation. I didn’t understand why I was still standing there. Maybe it was the intense way he was looking at me. It locked me in place and made me want to bathe in his fierceness. It was exactly what I’d been craving all this time and it felt wrong to give it up so easily. With the blink of an eye, it was gone and he became a mask of nothingness. His expression hardened. It wasn’t enough to scare me, but I got the warning.

“Good night,” I whispered and sidestepped him to hail a cab. I watched him from inside the cab until he was out of sight, but it wasn’t as easy to get him out of my head. I distracted myself with a newly formed plan to add a little fun to my life. Maybe I’d make a few spa appointments, maybe take a few days off from work and go on my own little vacation. I called my assistant on the way back to my apartment and had her cancel all of my appointments for the following week. Daddy and Ethan were both going to be far away, and it was time I did something spontaneous and exciting for myself. When I got home, I texted my father to let him know I’d gotten home safe and sound and got ready for bed. I thought sleep was going to come easily after that double of tequila, but when I lay down, all I could think about was the stranger outside the restaurant. His dark-brown eyes haunted me. The way he’d towered over me and the strength in his arms as he held me up was nothing like Ethan and his smaller frame. I closed my eyes and imagined the stranger’s brown eyes looking down at me. I imagined his work-roughened fingers making their way down my body and lifting the bottom of my nightgown. Squeezing my thighs together, the slide of my own moisture turned me on even more. How was it possible that Ethan couldn’t do this to me when he touched me, yet the stranger who I was sure to never see again could, in my imagination? Reaching down, I lifted the elastic band of my panties and slipped my hand inside, cupping myself. Curling my finger into my moisture and finding the sensitive nub that was throbbing, I envisioned it was the stranger’s finger and not my own. My toes curled into my mattress as he gave me an intense orgasm like I hadn’t felt in months. My own panting cries of release echoed in the darkness of my room, and my sheets stuck to my moist skin. Within minutes, I fell asleep, exhausted and satisfied with the memory of his shadowy eyes looking down at me.



I WAS PRACTICALLY FLOATING on air the next morning. I was excited about all the possibilities the week ahead held. It’d been so long since I had a vacation of any kind. I was always looking after others—not that I didn’t love what I do—but it was time to look after me. I made an appointment at the spa and spent most of the day there. I thought about inviting Nicole—she was the closest thing I had to a best friend—but I wanted my day to be about me and only me. Nicole was a sweet girl, but she tended to make everything about her in some way or another. Who knew a massage could feel like the next best thing to an orgasm and chocolate? I didn’t want to leave the table when my time was up, but I somehow found the strength. I got my toes and fingernails done and even had time to get my hair cut and colored. By the time I left the spa, I was a brand new person. When I got home, I called Nicole to see if she wanted to hang out. “Well, look who’s still alive and kicking,” Nicole said sarcastically. “Sorry, girl. Things have been crazy since I picked up more hours at the practice.” “Look at you being a big fancy doctor.” I laughed. “It’s not as exciting as it sounds, believe me. How are you?” “You know … I’m still me.” Which meant she was single and on the prowl, but that was nothing new. “You want to go out tonight?” There was silence on the other end, and I checked the

screen of my cell to see if I’d dropped the call. “Hello? Nicole?” “I’m here. Sorry, I was waiting for the rest of the joke.” “Ha, ha, ha. I’m being serious.” “Holy shit, yes!” she shouted into the phone. “Where?” I turned to look at the dress hanging on my closet door. It shined under the lighting and practically begged me to wear it. “The Roaring Fork?” I thought about going somewhere new, but it was my favorite restaurant. I had the entire week to try new things. “You don’t have to ask me twice. I’m there. What time?” We finished sorting the details to meet up later and hung up. Lying back on the bed, I fell asleep. Two hours later, I woke up with plenty of time to get ready. I was looking forward to what the night held, and who knew? Maybe I’d see the bartender again. My thoughts were full of excitement as I put on my red lipstick. I left my hair in a simple French braid that cascaded over my shoulder so it didn’t take away the sex appeal of the dress. Walking over to the dress, I snipped the price tags and slipped it off the silk hanger. Laying it on the bed, I debated on whether I wanted to add the thigh-highs and decided against it, leaving them on the bed. I pulled the dress up and it fit like a second skin. It had been a long time since I owned something that didn’t require a bra, and I loved the feel of the material against my nipples. Slipping on my heels, I sprayed perfume in all the right places. My phone rang and I knew it was my cab calling to let me know they were there. When I got to the restaurant, the valet opened my door for me. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that for me, but it was the first time he’d given me an appraising look. “Dr. Gelding,” he said around the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” I said with a wink and enjoyed the red that heated his cheeks. Thanks to the valet, I entered the restaurant with more confidence than I knew what to do with. The hostess spotted me and she tried to cover her shock with a delayed smile. “Dr. Gelding … how are you this evening?” “I’m good, Linda.” “I’m sorry, but your father isn’t here yet,” she said, picking up two menus from her podium. “Actually, I’m meeting a friend tonight.” More shock. “Oh, would you like your regular table still?” She said it as if I’d be cheating on my regular table if I said no. “Do you think I could sit at the bar tonight?”

“Of course. Right this way.” She set down the menus, and I followed her to the bar. I couldn’t stop myself from searching for the bartender’s familiar face. I was disappointed when I saw someone different working tonight. “Do you know if the bartender from last night will be here later?” I whispered to Linda. She smiled a knowing smile. “Ben? I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t worry. Peter is just as nice.” She winked and leaned onto the counter and whistled for the bartender’s attention. He turned to look at Linda and his eyes shifted and caught mine. He smiled and tapped the bar top in front of him, ending the conversation with the man he was speaking with. He made his way over toward us. “Peter this is—” “Emily,” I interjected before she could introduce me as Dr. Gelding. Not that anything looked like it could intimidate the gorgeous man in front of me, but I decided it was better if he just knew me as Emily. “Emily. Take extra good care of her.” “My pleasure,” he purred. Linda smiled knowingly as she walked away. “What’ll you have, Emily?” “Surprise me,” I told him, enjoying his sexy grin. “My kind of woman. I’ll be right back.” I looked around the room and realized that I never actually paid attention to my surroundings when I came for dinners with my father. I had no idea if any of these people were regulars, too. I checked toward the front, scanning the crowd for Nicole, but I didn’t see her. “Here you go.” He set a drink in front of me. “What’s it called?” “A screaming orgasm,” Nicole said before he could. I turned around to see her slipping into the empty seat next to me. “The lady knows her drinks,” he said. “She does indeed.” Nicole flirted. “Can I get you the same?” “Yes, you can. Actually, make it multiples,” she hummed. When he walked away, I turned toward her. “You’re here!” I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her in for a hug.

“A girls’ night out? No one could’ve kept me away. Unless handcuffs were involved, then you would’ve been on your own. However, it looks like you’re in good company.” Her eyes got wide as she tilted her head in the direction of the bartender. I laughed. “I haven’t made any commitments. The night’s still young.” I tipped my drink at her and took a sip. She shook her head. “What’s gotten into you?” I frowned. “What do you mean?” “You seem different. Cute dress.” That was her way of saying it was something she never thought she’d see me in, and she was right. “I feel different, and thank you. It was spontaneous.” “I like the new you, Em.” “Here you go.” Peter was back and placing Nicole’s drink in front of her. “Thank you, sugar,” she drawled sweetly. “Don’t go too far now.” Nicole wasn’t a native to Arizona, but she’d been living here for five years and her Carolina accent hadn’t faded in the least. It was all part of her Southern charm, and it seemed to drive the men around her wild. She was far from ordinary, and she stuck out in all the right ways. I envied her easy attitude and the way she managed to catch the attention of everyone around her. She was far from boring. “I didn’t know you ended it with what’s-his-face.” She drummed her purple-painted nails on the bar. “Ethan? I haven’t.” Her eyes bugged. “Holy shit, you are different.” “We’re not exactly a couple.” I was quick to defend my actions, but it was true. Ethan and I had never made things official. It was casual, and the fact that I wasn’t seeing anyone else had nothing to do with him. “So what’s this all about?” I took a deep breath and another drink. “I’m tired of being boring, Nicole.” “You get to be in the heads of damaged people. Your life’s not boring.” “I’m not talking about my life. I’m talking about me. I’m boring. I don’t want to be boring anymore. Just from the cab ride to seeing you, I’ve managed to shock everyone who knows me. That’s never a good sign.” “It looks like you’re on the right path. You seriously look hot. I’d do you.” She shrugged and took a drink.

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” “Nope. I’d do you right here in front of everyone.” I laughed. “Thanks.” “I think this is good for you. You need some fun in your life, and I’m just the woman to help you with that.” “What do you mean?” I looked at her suspiciously. Knowing her, her idea of fun was stealing a car and ending up in a Mexican jail. “Truth or dare.” “What?” “You heard me! Truth or dare?” She nudged me with her shoulder. “Don’t you think we’re a little old for that?” “You’re never too old for Truth or Dare. Besides, we’re playing the adult version. So what’ll it be?” I thought about it for only a second before blurting my answer. “Dare.” “A woman after my own heart. Okay, I dare you to …” She pressed a finger to her pursed lips and then smiled. “I dare you to kiss a stranger.” “What? I thought you’d start me off small and simple!” “I told you we were playing the adult version. There is no such thing as small or simple. Come on, don’t chicken out on me now.” “Fine!” My heart felt like it was going to explode from my chest. “Who’s it going to be?” “Let’s see what we’re working with.” We both turned in our chairs and then I remembered there was one prospect I wouldn’t mind kissing. “What about Peter?” “Who’s Peter?” “Keep your voice down.” I shushed her. “The bartender.” “Too easy. You need a challenge.” She continued to look around, and I tried to finish my drink. I was going to need the courage. “Hmm … what about that guy?” She pointed toward the crowd of people. “Who?” I arched my neck. “Right there. Mr. Tall-dark-and-brooding.” I had spotted him before she finished describing him. My eyes moved over his tall form and his familiar face. I could hardly believe that I was seeing him for the second time, and my face blazed with heat as I remembered how I’d made myself come with thoughts of him.

“I know him,” I whispered. “You know him?” “Why do you say it like that?” I took offense at her tone. “He doesn’t exactly look like someone who’d run in your circle.” “Well, I don’t know him, know him,” I said with a wave of my hand. “I ran into him, literally, last night outside this restaurant.” He looked different. Gone was the old hoodie and jeans, and in its place was a plain white button-down and newer jeans. He hadn’t shaved completely, but he’d trimmed to a light stubble. He wasn’t looking in our direction, and that gave us the opportunity we needed to openly stare at him. “Maybe he’s following you.” I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t exciting enough to have a stalker. “Or maybe this is a really popular restaurant. I mean I come here all the time.” I wanted to ask what that said about me, but I was afraid of her answer. “Well, he seems harmless enough.” “Seems?” “It’s not like you’re going to go home with him … right?” “Of course not.” I wasn’t at all hesitant about kissing the mysterious stranger. I’d be lying if I said he hadn’t popped into my head once or twice after I ran into him. Memories of my late-night fantasy replayed and I pressed my thighs together. I finished my drink and set my clutch on the bar. “Here goes nothing.” Standing, I smoothed down my dress. “Go get ‘em.” She made a catcall as I walked away and I swiped my hand at her from behind my back. She snickered, but I ignored her as I was swallowed in the crowd. As I emerged on the other end, I suddenly had the urge to turn around and run. But then he turned, and his eyes locked in on mine, and I knew there was no turning back now. “Hi,” I said, stopping in front of him. I rushed on in case this was going to be anything like last night’s conversation. “Do you remember me? From last night?” He frowned and I realized how this was sounding to him. I blushed. Like a damn schoolgirl, I blushed. “I ran into you … here,” I said quickly. “Well, actually outside. I was the babbling tipsy girl? Not much different than tonight.” “I remember,” he finally said. His voice sounded like sandpaper, and I enjoyed the effect it had on my body. “Good. Otherwise, I started this off all wrong.”

“Started what off all wrong?” I didn’t know if telling him about the dare would void it, but despite Nicole’s best effort to convince me this was the adult version of Truth or Dare, I suddenly felt very foolish and in no way wanted him to know what was going on. “It doesn’t matter.” I was starting to doubt my own ability to actually pull this off, and I found myself taking a step back. “Well—” “Nice …” His eyes roamed down my body, stopping me from going anywhere, and it was almost as if he were touching me. I wanted him to be touching me. “Shoes.” His eyes found mine again. “They’re the color of sin,” I blurted, repeating the words of the lady who sold me my sexy dress. He closed the distance between us, and I fought to breathe. “Sin suits you.” Maybe it was because he looked like he needed it as much as I did. Maybe it had a lot to do with the liquid courage flowing nicely through my system. Or maybe I just needed to prove that I could let go. Either way, I knew it had absolutely nothing to do with sanity. I didn’t want to give him time to react, so before I could talk myself out of it, I lifted up on my toes and pulled his face toward mine. And damn if sin didn’t suit him, too.



SOMETHING HAPPENED WHEN she pressed her lips to mine. I came to life. Blossomed from a dead flower. Color filled the room. The oxygen I pulled into my lungs fulfilled me. It was as if someone had turned on a light inside me, and the darkness melted away. I’d followed her to the restaurant. I’d planned to watch her from afar until I figured out exactly what it was I was doing. I didn’t, however, plan for her to look like seduction or plan for those red heels that made her legs look like long, lean stems of salvation. Dear God, she was made for sin. I hadn’t even realized she’d seen me as she made her way across the room. My eyes were glued to the sway of her hips and the way she smoothed down her dress with her hands. It was as if she were touching herself for me. Fingering her smooth skin and taunting me. The night was going wrong. I was supposed to hide in the shadows. She wasn’t supposed to be smiling up at me with those sinful lips and sparkling blue eyes, and she definitely wasn’t supposed to be kissing me. Her lips against mine were wrong in so many ways. I’d planned multiple devious plots for her, one of which included her death. Yet there she was, breathing what felt like a fresh beginning into me. She pressed harder, and while I knew I should have moved away, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her back. The pressure lifted from my chest, and for a few seconds, I felt

weightless. I felt like Jax again. I closed my eyes and relished in the relief I hadn’t felt in so long. My hands moved on their own and my fingers wrapped around her hips, pulling her into the hardness she’d elicited. I throbbed for her. Beat for her. Breathed for her. It was erotic. Tainted with my sick desires to feel her suffer. Black with death. Yet, it was life. Bright and sure. It was beyond fucked up. I didn’t understand it. Hunger took over me as I flicked the tip of her tongue with mine. A husky moan slipped from her mouth and vibrated against mine, knocking me back into reality. What the fuck was I doing? I was in military mode, and fraternizing with the enemy was punishable by death. I was already dead, even if the woman in my arms made my heart beat harder and my breathing faster. I shocked her when I grabbed the tops of her arms and pulled her away. Her wide eyes were glazed over, and I knew exactly what she was feeling because I was feeling it, too, and it was wrong. So fucking wrong. She looked up at me with no trace of shyness, no ounce of regret for the kiss, and it shocked me. Desire and need flushed her face in a way that prompted me to take her up against the nearest wall and lose myself in her depths. Fuck the crowd around us; I wanted to feel her heat all around me. Her body tight wrapped around my hard cock. I wanted to drown in the cries of the pleasure I could give her, but I couldn’t do any of that. Disgust rolled through my core as I stared down at her. Something as simple as a kiss had taken my mind off my goal, yet I was amazed that my target had triggered emotions I thought I’d lost forever. My hands left her body and I released her. I knew if I held her for a second longer, all would be lost. I stepped away from her and her eyes moved over my body like she was fucking me with her lashes. I felt it in my balls. The pressure and want so extreme I was sure I’d come on the spot. “Thank you,” she whispered. I opened my mouth to ask her what she thanking me for, but she was stepping away and into the crowd. The last thing I saw was the back of her head and the sexy curve of her lower back shown off by her dress. There was no doubt about it; I was fucked. It was no longer a good idea to hide in the shadows of the restaurant. She’d seen me and something sensual had passed between us. Something magnetic. Something tangible. I

needed to get the hell out of there and collect myself in my car until she came out. Adjusting myself, I turned and left the restaurant. The hostess looked at me like I’d lost my mind as I nearly ran out of there, knocking over incoming customers. I couldn’t agree more. I was definitely losing my fucking mind. My mind was slipping. My sanity creeping further away by the second. I was a fucking mess. An hour later, I was in my car with the radio playing and leaning back in my seat as I waited for her to leave. It was ten ‘til two when the doors to the restaurant opened and she and a shorter girl stepped out. They were laughing uncontrollably about something, and even from my vantage point, I could see the sparkle in her eyes. They talked for a bit before hugging and going in different directions. When her cab pulled into traffic, I pulled out behind it. We didn’t drive far until the cab pulled into a swanky apartment complex and dropped her off. I parked and got out of my own car, completely drawn to her. A moth to a flame. Fire. She was going to burn me if I didn’t move first. I followed a ways behind her as she made her way up the sidewalk to her door. Her keys rattled as she struggled to unlock it. She dropped the keys and cursed before bending over to pick them up. Her short dress rode up her thighs, allowing me to see the soft flesh between her legs and a hint of black lace panties. I contained the growl that rose up my throat. I wanted to slide my tongue inside that lace and taste her. Smell her. Lose myself in her heat. Getting the door unlocked, she went inside. I expected the door to slam and block me out, but she must have turned her key the wrong way and locked the door again before shutting it. The lock poked out on the side of the door, keeping it from closing completely. Unaware that her door was cracked open, she threw her purse onto her couch, slipped her red heels from her dainty feet, and padded down the hallway and out of sight. I pressed my fingers against the door and let it open soundlessly. The door closed softly behind me, and I stood there letting myself own the moment. Down the hallway, a door slammed and I followed the sound. I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t have a plan; I just went with it. It felt right. Her hall was one long walk down memory lane. Graduation, first car, awards, and memories—everything Chelsea would never get to experience—and in every picture, he was there. The killer of children. Seeing his fucking face strengthened my resolve. I stopped at one of the pictures with just her and stood there, staring at her. She was kneeling next to a dog and smiling up at the camera. She looked so happy and full of life. Despite how beautiful she was, I despised her for that, and that hate pushed me forward. Turning away, I kept moving. When I reached what I assumed was her bedroom door, I could hear her singing and the sounds of drawers being opened and closed.

Peeking through the small crack of her door, I saw her black dress as she flittered around the room and prepared for her shower. Once she disappeared into the bathroom, I slipped into the room and looked around. Lying on the bed was a pair of black lace stockings. I ran my fingers across the lace before picking them up and making my way toward the bathroom. No way was I going to do what I was considering. The shower turned on in the bathroom and I pressed my palm to the door and pushed it open. Steam rolled out and filled my nostrils with the sweet smell of lavender. Her back was to me as she stuck a hand into the shower to check the temperature. She was dressed in a pair of black panties. That was it. The sweet arch in her back teased me as she wiggled her hips to a rhythm that must have been in her head. I stepped up behind her, her hair brushing my face as she released her braid and moved to shut the shower door. Was I going to kill her? Was I going to choke the life out of her with lacy black stockings? It wasn’t fair. She seemed nice enough, and she probably couldn’t hurt a fly, but Chelsea dying wasn’t fair either. Before she could turn around and see me, I quickly slipped the black stockings over her head and around her neck. She screamed and grabbed at the lace that would soon bring her death. My hold tightened when she tried to turn in my arms. I couldn’t look at those eyes while I took her life. Those baby blues would stop me cold. I wasn’t a killer; I was just an angry man who wanted revenge. An eye for an eye. “Please.” Her soft pleas reached my ears and cleared my mind instantly. Closing my eyes, I pictured Chelsea begging for her life and a shock coursed through me as if I’d been struck by lightning. Fuck! I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill the way Dr. Gelding had. It was so easy for him. Why was it so hard for me? No matter how badly I wanted to, I couldn’t kill her. What kind of father was I? I couldn’t even seek revenge for my baby girl. I was a sick piece of shit. One incapable of anything, including protecting his child. I fucking hated myself.

He didn’t deserve her. It wasn’t fair that he had her, and I wanted to take her away from him the same way he’d taken Chelsea away from me. It was only fair, but still, my hold loosened, allowing her to take a small breath. Then my thoughts cleared and I only wanted to know one thing. “Who is he to you?” I asked, my voice hard and angry. Her body tensed at my question. “W-who?” The tremble in her voice caused her words to stumble. “The man you were with the other night.” She swallowed hard, the lace around her neck tightening with the action. “I don’t … I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “The man!” I yelled, tugging on the lace and making her gag. “Who is he to you?” “My father,” she choked out as her body shook with fear. Perfect. I pulled the black lace stockings from her neck and laid them over her eyes. Tying them around her head tightly, they stayed in place and blocked her from seeing me—kept me from seeing her shockingly blue eyes. The last thing I needed was for her to recognize me. And since I’d so stupidly gotten caught in her web at the restaurant, she’d remember my face easily. I turned her to face me. A single tear slipped down her cheek and her heavy breathing forced her perky breasts against my chest. “Why are you doing this?” she cried. All my reasons suddenly made sense to me. Everything I’d been thinking cleared, and I said the first thing that came to mind. “He took something very precious away from me, so I’m doing the same to him. He doesn’t deserve you in his life.” It was irrational. Sick and twisted. But maybe that was who I was now. I’d been molded into a beast, my daughter’s death bringing out personalities that had remained dormant. I was an irrational lunatic and it was his fault. He would pay. An eye for an eye. A daughter for a daughter. A life for a life.



“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU just did that! You’ve grown some big, hairy balls under that dress, Em!” Nicole reached over and plucked at the hem of my dress and we laughed. I couldn’t believe it either. I’d gone up to a practical stranger and kissed him like I’d never dreamed of kissing Ethan. Never mind the fact that it was the best kiss I’d ever had. Heated. Erotic. Dangerous. Forbidden. I’d touched myself thinking of the stranger with the dark eyes. In my imagination, he was good at everything and touched me just the right way, but after that kiss, I didn’t need to imagine it anymore. No way was a man who could kiss like that bad at anything he did. “We need a shot,” I said as I crooked a finger at Peter. “Two shots of anything.” Nicole looked at me with wide eyes. “Make those doubles, baby.” She grinned and winked. By the time we made it out of the restaurant, we were drunk. There was no delicate, ladylike way to put it. I was shitfaced and so was Nicole. We giggled up the sidewalk and hugged before going in opposite directions. I fell into the cab and called out my address. The city flew by in a glazed blur as I stared out the window with a smile. I had a good time. Scratch that. I had a great time, and I was looking forward to the rest of my week off. When I got to my apartment, I whistled with joy once I got out of the cab and made my way up the sidewalk to my building. I felt light and giddy. I felt my age, and it was fan-fucking-tastic.

Kicking off my sex kitten heels, as Nicole called them, I tossed my clutch onto the couch and went straight to my bedroom for a hot shower and a night of me time. I leaned against the hallway wall with a giggle when the ground beneath my feet shifted. What would my dad and Ethan think if they saw me drunk out of my mind with my sexy black dress and my sinful red shoes? I peeled off my dress slowly, enjoying the feel of the fabric against my sensitive skin. Running the material across my face, I chuckled to myself before I tossed it onto my bed beside the black lace stockings I’d decided against earlier in the night. I hated taking off the dress. It made me feel sexy and I liked it. It wasn’t like when I peeled off my professional work clothes. Those clothes were my shell. They hid the real me, kind of like Clark Kent’s glasses. Except instead of a kickass superhero underneath, I was just a horny, lonely chick. I strutted across my room in just my panties. The blinds were open, but I didn’t care who saw me. As far as I was concerned, I was a sex goddess. A sex goddess confident enough to kiss strangers and flirt with bartenders. I turned on the shower and stuck my fingers beneath the hot water to test it. A song they’d played at the restaurant earlier drifted through my head and I found my hips swaying to the music. My heavy breasts moved freely without a bra, and I relished in the feel of total freedom. I’d definitely had a little bit too much to drink. I backed away from the shower with a smile and into a hard wall of heat. Something silky and soft was wrapped around my neck. Ethan … It had to be him. He was the only person who’d just walk into my apartment if the door were unlocked. I really needed to start locking my door, but I was thankful I hadn’t. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be in my bathroom, doing something as erotic as wrapping silk around my neck and pressing himself into my back. Excitement filled my limbs, his spontaneity a rush. It was erotic and so unlike him. He’d come home as a surprise, and it looked like he was ready to play my way. Maybe things with Ethan could work out, as long as he at least tried. Then everything changed. A puff of air escaped my lips as whatever was around my neck tightened. It no longer felt erotic and silky; it felt lethal and rugged. It definitely wasn’t Ethan. He’d never be so rough, no matter if I’d asked him to or not. Then I realized something else. Whoever was behind me was large. I could feel his strength in the tension of whatever was choking me, and he towered over me from behind. Ethan wasn’t as strong or as tall. I tried to scream, but for a brief second, I had no oxygen to get anything out. His hard body pressed against my backside and the stench of stale beer made my stomach roil.

The tightness around my neck intensified, and a tiny squeak slipped past my lips. I was being murdered—my life slowly choked out of my body—and I couldn’t help but feel like I’d brought it on myself. I’d practically begged for something—anything—exciting to happen to me. I should’ve been clearer about my wishes. Then the pressure on my neck lessened, his hot breath striking the side of my face. I took a deep lungful of oxygen while I could, before whatever was around my neck covered my eyes. The room around me went dark and even more panic ripped through me.



“YOU DON’T HAVE to do this, you know?” she said as she tried to reach up and tug at the stockings over her eyes. “I won’t tell anyone if you just leave and let me go. You still have a chance to do something good here.” She tried to reason with me. “What I’m doing is good,” I growled as I turned her to face me. Her arms felt tiny and warm in my hands. As hard as I tried to keep my gaze trained on her face, it dipped and explored her beautiful breasts and flat stomach. Her perky cleavage lifted with every panicked breath she took, begging me to touch or kiss anywhere I pleased, but I was no rapist. I wasn’t sure what the fuck I was anymore. I forced my eyes to her face. The last thing I needed was a hard cock in this situation. “I’m not sure where you’re from, but in the real world, nothing good comes about holding a woman captive and choking her,” she said defensively. “You talk too much,” I said as I held both her wrists in one hand and used the other to turn off the shower. The room got quiet with no comment from her. Instead, she put her head down as if she remembered she was naked. “Can I have a towel at least?” We’d been standing there in silence as my mind worked to keep up with my spinning thoughts. She probably thought I was standing there staring at her, but after my peek at her luscious tits, I hadn’t trusted myself to look past the pounding pulse on her neck again. She sounded angry as she delivered her question again, but a trace of fear still lingered

in her shaky hands as she waited for her demand. I waited a minute longer before I turned around and found the fluffy, yellow towel hanging on the hook behind the door. I grabbed it and shoved it into her chest. Not hard enough to hurt her, but with enough pressure to make her take a step back. She quickly wrapped it around herself and secured it tightly around her breasts. I couldn’t control my weakness. I looked. I wanted to rip the towel from her beautiful body the minute she was covered, but she took me by surprise. She wasn’t going without a fight and she pushed against my chest with everything she had. I fell back against the door and the handle stabbed me in the back, sending a rush of pain up my spine. She rushed blindly past me and I reached out for her. My fingers sank into the soft fabric of her towel and pulled, yanking the towel from her naked flesh. It didn’t stop her, but it did distract her. She screamed and grabbed at the towel, but I tugged against her hold and she let it go. Losing my balance, I slid down the door. She ripped the stockings from her eyes, leaving them around her neck, and was out the door of the bedroom before I was on my feet again. I caught her at the front door, slamming into her. The door shook with our collision and she cried out as it banged shut against the weight of our bodies. “Fearless, I’ll give you that,” I rasped in her ear. “But not fast enough. Sorry, princess, but I’m not done with you yet.” I locked the door and twisted her arm behind her back. Her joints popped from the stress of my hold and she cried out. Her body was tight against mine as I wrapped my arm around her waist. She tensed but didn’t struggle. I slipped the stockings back over her eyes. In her rush to get away, she still hadn’t managed to see my face, and I wanted to keep it that way. We were both breathing hard as I pulled her with me toward the kitchen. “Do you have anything to drink in this place?” “What?” she asked, shocked and confused. “Liquor, booze, anything besides these crappy bottles of wine?” I was referring to the small wine fridge built into the cabinets. “I don’t understand what you’re doing,” she said as she continued to struggle against my hold. “I’m looking for something to drink,” I said absently, rummaging through her cupboards. I needed something, anything, to keep me focused on something other than how soft her skin felt beneath my fingers. They flexed against her bare stomach and she gasped,

trying to wiggle free. “Don’t do that!” she ground out between her teeth. “If you hadn’t tried to run away, I wouldn’t have to.” “What did you expect me to do? Let you …” She trailed off, swallowing the rest of her sentence. “Let me what, princess?” I bit out. It made me angry that she thought I would force myself on her, yet at the same time, I realized her thoughts made sense. I was a man who had basically forced my way into her apartment. I’d held her naked body against me and I’d blindfolded her. What else could she possibly think? “Let me what, princess?” “Stop calling me that! You don’t know anything about me.” “Maybe I don’t, but I know enough. Ah-ha!” I found a small bottle of tequila hidden shamefully away from first glance. I set it on the counter with a thud and pulled down the shot glass that had accompanied the bottle. “Wouldn’t have taken you for a tequila girl.” “I repeat, you don’t know anything about me,” she repeated. I shook my head and threw back the shot. “Want one?” I dangled the empty shot glass in front of her face, touching the rim to her lips, but she turned away from my offer. I shrugged. “Suit yourself, princess.” The amber liquid sloshed over the side of the glass as I poured myself another. I drank it much slower this time, letting the burn keep me balanced. “How do you know my father?” she asked. “What did he take from you? I’m sure whatever it is, he’d have no problem giving it back. If you could just let me go, I could call him and—” “What he took from me he can never give back!” I bellowed. Her back tensed against me, making me feel momentarily guilty. Manhandling women wasn’t something I was usually okay with. “Let’s go.” I dragged her with me into the living room, her tripping over her own feet and hissing at the pain of my fingers digging into her skin. “Who are you? I don’t understand what I have to do with your affairs with my father. What do you want with me?” My chuckle was dark and void of humor. “You’ll find out soon enough, princess, but for now, you can call me Sin.”

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she held her hand out. “Can I have my towel back?” I didn’t need to be reminded that she was pressed against me in nothing more than lace panties. “Sorry, princess, I’m not falling for that shit again.” “It’s not a trick!” “Whatever.” I spun her around, and she lost her balance, stumbling into me. I didn’t want to enjoy the way her curves molded against me or the way my heart skipped when I felt her breath against my neck, but I couldn’t help it. Pushing her away from me, I quickly pulled off my over shirt that I’d put on in my car and used my sleeve to tie her hands in front of her. When her hands were tied tight enough and I was sure she wouldn’t be able to get loose, I pushed her onto the couch. “You don’t have to treat me like a ragdoll. I can stand and sit and move all by myself.” “Only I don’t trust you to do anything by yourself, princess.” “How do you know my father? And don’t change the subject this time. What did he take? Why are you doing this? Maybe if I understood, I could help you.” “Oh, you will help me. There’s no doubt about that.” She’d sat forward during her spiel, and I couldn’t keep my eyes away from her breasts as they swayed. Her sweet, perky nipples stood on edge against the chill in the room, begging to be bitten. I wasn’t going to be able to stick with the makeshift plan I’d made within the last twenty minutes if I had to continue to stare at her naked body. I walked away from her and down the hall to her bedroom. I yanked the discarded towel off the floor and walked back into the living room. She made a tiny sound of surprise as I threw the towel over her body. “Thank you.” “Don’t thank me. I don’t want to look at you naked anymore.” “You’re an asshole.” “I have you blindfolded and bound. What gave you your first clue, princess?” “Emily!” she screamed at me. “My name is Emily!” Fuck! I didn’t want her to have a name. It was bad enough I knew she had deep-blue eyes and soft skin. It was even worse that earlier in the night, her kiss had breathed life into me for a brief few seconds.

I didn’t want her to be a real person to me. She couldn’t be a real person to me. “I don’t give a fuck what your name is.” I hardened my voice. “I don’t give a fuck about you.” I lied. I wasn’t sure why I’d said that. The only thing I could think of was the fact that her body and the way she wiggled against the couch was fucking turning me on. I was there for retribution. My daughter’s life was worth more than a piece of ass. All that mattered was my revenge. “Fine. Then why don’t you tell me what you do give a fuck about? There’s a reason you’re doing this, right? A plan of some sort? I mean, you’re not throwing your life away for nothing, right?” Walking toward her, I leaned over her until I could smell the light scent of her perfume. It was intoxicating. Stronger than the liquor I’d plowed myself with over the last few weeks. She didn’t back down from my towering presence even though I knew she could feel my closeness. “There’s a reason for everything, princess. Now, be quiet before I gag that annoying mouth of yours.” My gaze dropped to her lips. Her tongue moved across her bottom lip and my cock throbbed, wishing her lips were wrapped around it. She sat back and turned away from me, pretending to stare at the wall in silence. I welcomed the quiet, but it gave me time to wander around inside my head and that didn’t prove to be a good thing when dealing with her. I couldn’t bring myself to say or even think her name. I dropped my head and rubbed the back of my neck. I never expected to be sitting here with her like this when I walked into her apartment. I didn’t know what I expected, but I couldn’t turn back now. I’d carry this out and I’d make the doctor pay for taking the life of my daughter, even if that meant destroying the life of his. I couldn’t kill her. I wouldn’t. No matter how angry I was at the bastard who took my daughter, I wouldn’t become like him. I wouldn’t take an innocent life. But there were other ways of taking her from him and I would use them all. Stealing a quick peek at her, I saw her sitting there, leaning her head against the back of the couch. I wondered what she was thinking. And then realized I probably didn’t really want to know. She probably thought I was a monster, and I really couldn’t blame her. I felt like a monster. A vile creature forged out of hate and ready for destruction. But if she knew what her father had done, she’d understand my reasoning. She seemed like a sensible girl. The way he toyed with lives, choosing who lived and who died, was wrong. I could tell her, and then she’d know who the real monster was.

“Fucking stop!” I yelled to myself. Emily gasped and jerked her head up. “I’m not doing anything!” she yelled back. Her voice cracked and I could hear the fear in its tremble. Fuck it. I was a monster and it didn’t matter what she thought. I was there for Chelsea. I was doing this for her—for my baby girl—who I was never going to see again. I’d never hear her laugh, see her smile, or even hear her call my name. The fucking doctor was going to pay, and because of that, regardless of how sweet her body was, Princess Emily would pay, too.



THE SILENCE WAS deafening, sending madness through my core and uncertainty through my brain. I hated not knowing what he was doing. I wanted to go into therapist mode and pick apart his brain until I knew what to do next, but I was too frazzled by the unknown. He was waging his own war, his indecision clear in his actions toward me, and that gave me hope that I could change his mind. One minute he handled me softly, caring for my comfort. His touch wasn’t offensive but careful and light. But then as if a switch had been flipped, he turned rough, his anger apparent in his touch. I knew nothing about him except those things. His back and forth—the war that was raging inside his head—which meant I had a lot of work to do if I was going to make it out of my apartment alive. The clock in my hallway ticked in the distance, taunting me, reminding me that my time was limited. I didn’t know what time it was, but it was late. Exhaustion and adrenaline pressed against my back, and I felt like I was a human game of Tug of War. I figured out what was around my eyes and cursed myself for leaving my stockings on the bed for him to grab. Sweat from my forehead and cheeks soaked them, making them droop, and allowing me to peek over the top. It wasn’t enough to see my assailant, but it was enough to see that the lamp in the corner of my living room was on. I brought my hands up and pretended to scratch my nose so I could tug on the stockings a bit. Whatever it was he’d tied my hands with was rough and smelled like wet

grass and men’s body wash. Giving the stockings a tiny tug, I was able to see the pictures hanging on the wall across from me. I set my hands on my lap and let the stockings rest at that level. I waited for him to say something or adjust them back, but he didn’t. After waiting a few minutes, I pretended to scratch my nose again, and again, I gave the stockings a good tug. The room came into view and so did he. He wasn’t looking at me. He stared at the wall beside me and roughly ran his hands through his hair. Leaning his head back, his eyes pinched closed tightly and his expression turned to anguish. My next breath stuck in my throat and I bit back the whimper of familiarly as I stared at him in confusion. It was the same guy I’d kissed earlier in the night. My eyes were glued to him. Just a few hours before, I’d thrown myself into his arms and kissed him like I’d never kissed another man. The kiss was amazing—mind-blowing. One night of freedom. The one freaking time I’d let my hair down and did something fun and spontaneous, I had to pick the guy holding a grudge against my father. Great. Just perfect. I shook my head to stop the thoughts from rolling in and continued to look at him. He was so handsome; it was sad since he was obviously a sick man. No normal person would do what he was doing to me, but then when I looked at his face, I could see there was something more I didn’t understand. He didn’t look dangerous; he looked just as sad as he did the first time I’d seen him. I had male patients—plenty of them who came in quite often—so I’d seen men cry before, but this man wasn’t crying. He was in pain. He wanted to cry. I could tell by the look on his face, and even though I was sure crying would bring him some relief, he never shed a tear. Dark circles had ringed his pain-filled brown eyes before they disappeared behind his palms as he ran his hands down his face in aggravation. He stood and went to the wall in front of him. Placing his palms against plaster, it looked as if he were pressing all of his anger and anguish into the wall. The picture of the beach beside him shook the more he pressed. His tight, white t-shirt clung to his back muscles and they flinched the more he pressed. Worn, faded blue jeans rested on his hips, a black belt holding them up but still allowing me to see the top of his gray boxer briefs. Replacing his palms with his forehead, he ran his thick fingers through his dark hair, making it stand on end. I knew I shouldn’t have, but I felt sorry for him. Whoever he was, he was dealing with something serious, and part of me wanted to help him. What could I say? Helping people was my job. I didn’t know if I should stay silent and enjoy being able to see again or if I should say something. Maybe now that I’d seen him and knew who he was, he’d leave the blindfold

off, but then again, maybe he’d kill me so I could never turn in him. I took a chance. “Are you okay?” I asked softly as if I were dealing with a rabid dog. He swung around with wide brown eyes and looked down at me. “Shit!” he yelled as he hurried toward me to cover my eyes. The stockings pulled at the back of my neck as he started to put them back over my eyes. And again, I panicked. “Please,” I said in a strained voice. “Don’t cover my eyes again. I feel like I can’t breathe when I can’t see. I swear I won’t even look at you. Just don’t.” I looked up at him and tried to make him understand. A strange emotion passed across his eyes before he let go of the stockings. “It’s not like it matters anyway. You’ve already seen my face. You know who I am.” “I don’t know who you are. I know nothing about you,” I said convincingly. He let out an annoyed sigh and again ran his fingers roughly through his hair. “What the fuck am I going to do with you?” “Let me go,” I suggested softly. It was worth a shot. “That’s not going to happen,” he snapped. “Keep looking at me and I’ll blindfold you again. Keep talking and I’ll gag you, got it?” I nodded and looked away. I couldn’t help myself. Therapist or not, I let a tear fall. I was going to die. I was positive of that. I’d never see my dad again. He’d go crazy without me. And Ethan, what would he do once I was gone? Probably move on quickly and find an equally boring woman to share his life with. “Shit. Don’t do that,” he said in anger. I wasn’t supposed to talk or look at him, so I kept my head turned and didn’t respond. Instead, another tear fell, and as badly as I wanted them to stop, they wouldn’t. “Seriously, fucking stop. You’re wasting your time,” he said menacingly. There was a hint of desperation in his eyes when I finally looked up at him. He ran his hands through his hair again before coming at me. “Fuck this shit,” he said as he pulled me to my feet. My legs and feet tingled from sitting too long. “What are you doing?” He pulled me across the room and turned a kitchen chair around so it was facing the wall. I gasped as his grip tightened on my arm and the air quickly left my lungs as he roughly set me in the chair.

My fingers tingled when he untied them and a tiny bit of happiness seeped in when I thought maybe he was allowing me freedom, but instead, he pulled my arms behind the chair and retied them. My shoulders were pushed back, making it look as if I were poking out my chest. I felt exposed and it was uncomfortable. The confident girl from earlier in the night was gone and in her place was little ol’ me, and I couldn’t stand being naked anymore. He disappeared and returned with the towel. Looking into my eyes, he covered my breasts and stomach, and I appreciated him doing that for me. But then he spoke and the tiny bit of confidence that I’d tucked away shattered. “I can’t look at you naked. It’s making me sick,” he growled. Embarrassment filled me and my cheeks burned. I’d kissed him earlier, and I thought he’d kissed me back, but apparently, he thought I was disgusting. All the flirting I’d done with the bartender, and any other man who’d flirt back, earlier in the night came back to me. Were they all thinking the same thing? Did I make a total fool out of myself? I trained my eyes on the wall in front of me and cried quietly to myself until my eyes felt heavy. I fell asleep sitting naked in the chair with a towel covering my front and tears drying on my cheeks.



FUCK! I WAS being a dick, but looking at her naked did make me sick—sick with desire and something else that made my cock so hard I thought it would explode. Lust—it was definitely lust, but there was no room in my situation for such a thing, and no matter what I had to do, I’d make sure to squash those thoughts. I thought sticking her in a chair facing away from me would help, but all it did was make her back arch more and her breasts lift as if they were teasing me. They stood at attention, her dusty pink nipples hardened from the cool air around us, as if they were waiting for my mouth to devour them. I was going crazy. My mind was a mess. Three things were happening all at once. One, I wanted revenge. It was the most important of the three, and no matter what else happened, I was determined to get it. Two, she knew who I was. I couldn’t kill her. I didn’t have it in me to take her life the way Chelsea’s had been taken from her. I’d do what needed to be done, and then I’d disappear—become a new man somewhere far away from everything I’d ever known. That sounded good sometimes, but then I’d think about Constance and leaving her alone. Also, I’d never be able to visit Chelsea’s grave. I hadn’t been back since they covered her in dirt; mostly, I was afraid I’d do something irrational like dig her up just to hold her again. I didn’t like the idea of being so far away from her, even if it seemed like a good idea when I was holding women against their will while trying to destroy a man any way I could.

The third thing was I was so fucking attracted to Emily that it hurt … literally. My dick got rock hard every time I looked at her pink skin and soft breasts. I felt like a thirteen-year-old looking through my dad’s old seventies porn magazines. I’d even considered leaving her while I went to the bathroom and jerked off. But as much as seeing her naked hurt, seeing her cry was worse. No matter how badly I wanted the old me gone completely, the man I used to be before all this happened still peeked his head out every now and again. I hated that fucker. Why wouldn’t he just die? Why couldn’t I be the monster I wanted so badly to be without feeling like shit afterward? I spent an hour wearing her living room carpet thin as I paced the room. I had a lot to think about, and I was running out of alcohol. I barely noticed that Emily hadn’t spoken another word. Quickly, I went over to her. Her head was down; the only thing holding her in the chair was her tied arms. Her forearms were turning purple, not because I’d tied her too tight, but because she’d fallen asleep leaning up and pulling against the ties so tightly. I didn’t want to touch her, but I couldn’t leave her like that. I wasn’t a doctor, but even I knew the lack of circulation wasn’t a good thing. I pressed against her shoulder and leaned her back in the chair. Her head flopped back against the back of the chair, but she didn’t wake up. Her dark lashes lay against her flushed cheeks, her mouth slightly gaped, making her pouty lips look even thicker. Her breathing was hard and even, lifting her breasts and slowly pushing the towel away from her body. I didn’t try to catch it as it slipped, and I openly took her body in without fear of her seeing me. She was beautiful. Her Mediterranean skin glowed in the soft light coming from the kitchen. Her knees were closed and pushed to the side, and the black lacy panties she was wearing were pushed to the side a little, revealing the swell of her sweet round ass cheek. She was a handful for sure, and I wanted to fill my hands with her lovely skin. I couldn’t keep thinking that way. I shook my head to rid the sexual thoughts that were tightening my jeans. Sex should have been the last thing on my mind, but it seemed every time I pushed those thoughts from my mind, they came back even stronger. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I felt tired. For the first time in a while, I was sleepy. Go figure; the one time I actually wanted to sleep, I couldn’t. Running my fingers down my face, I tried to clear the sleep from my tired eyes. When I looked back down, Emily was staring back up at me. Her knowing eyes took me in and I felt exposed again. How was she able to make me feel that way? I reached down and pulled the towel back up to cover her again. “My arms and back are killing me. I need to switch positions or something. Maybe let me sit on the couch again?” Her voice cracked with sleep, making it sound deeper and more seductive.

Her words sent pictures of all the different positions I could put her in, and again, my cock grew. Fuck! “Don’t try anything,” I said as I leaned over her and untied her arms. She brought them in front of her and massaged the feeling back into her fingers. She kept her head down, her exhaustion thick in her shoulders. “I’m too tired to do anything. At this point, I need sleep. Do you think maybe I could go to my bedroom?” It wasn’t an unreasonable request. “Fine. Come on.” I pulled her to her feet. She kept the towel close to her body as she tried to jerk her arm out of my hand. “Do you have to hold me so rough? That hurts, you know.” I hadn’t realized my fingers were digging into her soft skin. “Yes, I do. It’s your fucking fault,” I said, but I loosened my grip. When we got to her room, I tied her hands in front of her and shut the bedroom door in case she tried to run. She sat on her bed with tired eyes as I looked around her room and bathroom for weapons or anything she could use against me. “What are you doing?” she asked, eyeing me. “Looking.” “For what?” Her eyes glanced toward her closet briefly and then back to mine. “A single woman living alone. I’m making sure you don’t have anything hidden.” I walked toward her closet and she licked her lips nervously. Again, I reacted to such an innocent gesture and it made me angry all over again. “What makes you think I’m single?” I shrugged. “I haven’t seen you with anyone.” “How long have you been following me?” “Doesn’t matter.” I pulled open her closet and she gasped behind me. “Could you please not go through my closet?” she said loudly. Bingo! She was hiding something in her closet. A gun, maybe? I began pulling down shoeboxes and searching everything. Pushing clothes to the side, I dug through totes she had on the floor. Finally, I found a lacy pink box in the bottom of

her closet. I picked it up and turned toward her. “Don’t open that,” she said forcefully. “Why? Hiding weapons, princess? Do you think I’m stupid enough to leave you in a room with something you could use on me?” I asked. With wide, panic-stricken eyes, she shook her head. “Trust me. There’s nothing in there I would use on you. Don’t open it.” I didn’t listen. Instead, I flipped open the lid of the box and it fell to the floor. She made a small noise and turned away. A grin tugged at the corner of my lips as I examined the contents of the box. There were absolutely no weapons in the box, at least not anything that would cause pain. Moving things around, I found the source of her embarrassment and pulled it out. A big purple vibrator. Heat ripped through my body as I imagined her alone in her bed, using it on herself. I could practically hear her cries for sweet relief as she worked the hard rod in and out of her wet heat. I dropped the vibrator back into the box that I quickly realized was full of sex toys and videos. I’d lost count of how many times my cock got hard in the short time I’d been around her. I wasn’t sure what it was about her that turned me on so much. Maybe being domineering was doing it for me. Either way, it was pointless. I’d just have to learn to ignore it and keep my head in the game. When I looked back up, a bright-red blush covered Emily’s face. She looked away from me in embarrassment. “You’re right. There’s definitely nothing in here you could use on me.” I threw the box back into her closet and shut the door tightly behind me.



NO WAY HAD that happened. No way did the man who was holding me captive find my secret box. He didn’t just pull out my favorite vibrator and examine it. He definitely didn’t get hard doing so. Oh, it happened. I saw it happen. His jeans tightened and the lining of a rather impressive cock became visible. I wasn’t sure I could look him in the face again. Once he closed my closet, I sat there in shock. My cheeks were so hot I felt as if I were going to pass out from the embarrassment alone. Not even Ethan had ever seen my fun box. He didn’t even know it existed. Yet the stranger in front of me had seen it, opened it, and got excited about it. I felt exposed. Even more so than sitting half-naked in front of this guy. It felt wrong that he knew more about me and my desires than Ethan did. I had to get out of his eyesight and gather my wits. “I need to go to the bathroom,” I said angrily as I stood. I was pissed. Not only had he done exactly what I asked him not to, but I was also mad he’d seen that secret part of me. I refused to look him in the face as I marched across the room to my bathroom, and he didn’t stop me. I knew I was being irrational. I was a therapist. I knew throwing a temper fit never got you anywhere, but all I could think about was the sly grin on his face and his

growing penis as he stared at the secret side of me. I slammed the bathroom door behind me and then struggled to get my panties down with my hands tied together. I stayed in the bathroom longer than I needed simply because I wasn’t sure how I was going to look him in the face. When I opened the door, he was standing in front of my bed holding up a thin white camisole. Looking at my dresser, the first two top drawers were open and my never-beenworn-tags-still-on-because-Ethan-would-have-flipped-sexy lingerie and lace panties hung over the sides. “I thought maybe you’d want to get into something more … comfortable,” he taunted. My face flamed. Apparently, he wasn’t done humiliating me or going through my personal things. Oh my God! My— “Tell me, princess. Do you always hide lipstick in your underwear drawer?” he said, holding up a tiny black tube. He walked toward me, uncapping the tube before he held the smooth, red, rounded surface up to me. “Your boyfriend must not be very satisfying if you have vibrators all over the place.” He shook his head as he read the bottom of the tube. “Fuck me red? That sounds about right. An interesting name for this particular shade. I bet you love applying this one.” He chuckled. “You’re a—” “Bastard? Sick and twisted?” he threw out as he walked around me. He stopped behind me but made no move to close the distance between my back and his chest, and I sighed in relief. “You have no idea, princess.” “I told you to stop calling me that!” He snickered at my outburst and that only angered me more. “How about I call you … Red?” Automatically, my eyes flew toward them and I knew he was looking at the same thing. The red heels I discarded earlier sat at the end of the bed, mocking me the way he was. Stupid shoes! “It seems you like the color.” His arm came up around me and he held the small vibrator disguised as a tube of lipstick. I’d gotten it a couple of months ago online and hadn’t had a chance to put it in my pink box. I was regretting that now. “Are you done?” I snapped. “And there’s nothing wrong with me having … with me …”

“Pleasuring yourself?” he whispered into my hair, and the reflex to shiver was almost too much to control. Heat swirled low in my belly and I was angry with him and more with my body for betraying me. He was holding me hostage, my mind argued, but the rest of me was still having a hard time getting over my reaction to him prior to the last two hours. “There’s nothing wrong with it at all, Red. In fact, it’s fucking sexy when a woman knows exactly how she wants it.” My body finally catching up to my brain, I moved away from him and turned around, glaring at him. “I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work. I make a living reading people and I can see right through you.” It wasn’t the complete truth, but he didn’t need to know that. “Is that so, Doctor?” he said with disgust. He moved toward me and I moved back until the backs of my thighs hit the bed. With nowhere left to go, I stood there trapped as he kept stalking toward me. He stopped right in front of me. If I hadn’t moved my tied hands up, they would have cupped him. The material of his jeans rubbed against the tops of my thighs and his stomach was hard against my fingers. “What is it you think I’m doing?” “You want the truth?” “Damn straight.” Game on. “You’re attracted to me and you’re angry at me for that so you’re trying to unnerve me by embarrassing me with my sexuality. It’s not going to work.” Surprise flashed across his face and quickly disappeared. I’d hit the nail on the head. I wanted to reach up and pat myself on the back, but my victory was short lived. He moved against me and it was hard to tell if there was one inch of us that wasn’t touching. “Bravo, Doctor. It looks like Daddy’s money got you a decent education. Must be nice, rich girl. But you’re right. I can’t stand that you’re able to get me hard. I don’t want to want you. Burying myself deep inside you isn’t what I had planned.” His eyes dipped down and slowly caressed my body. “But I think you forgot something in your evaluation.” I could barely breathe after the things he’d just said to me. Never in my life had any man ever talked to me like that, and his honesty was worse than his taunting. “And what is that?” I managed to ask with a steady voice. I felt like I deserved a freaking award for that. “You want me, too, and don’t fucking try to deny it. You wanted me before I showed

up here tonight, and even though I’m keeping you here against your will, you still fucking want me.” His chest pressed against my breasts over and over with each hard breath he took, and I cursed my body when my nipples hardened in a rush. Heat flowed to my center, and as much as I wanted to scream in his face that he was a liar, my body was on his side. “Can I get dressed now?” I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of calling me a liar. He didn’t need any more ammo against me. “Damn, Red,” he said, dropping his head slightly and sighing. His warm breath washed over my chest and my nipples hardened even more. I knew he could feel them against his chest, and I wanted to push him away and cover them with my hands. “I was really hoping you were going to call me a liar. Because proving you wrong and showing you just how much you’d enjoy being wrong would be so worth it.” I held up my hands. “Give it to me.” He looked down at my hand and then at me, and a telling grin tilted his lips. “My shirt,” I rushed out. “Give me my shirt.” “Careful, Red. Next time, I might just give you something you didn’t bargain for.” He held his hand up to the side and my camisole hung from his fingers. Turning my glare away from him, I went to snatch the garment from his fingers. “On second thought, it’s probably better if I do it for you.” “Why?” I demanded angrily. “Well, I could say it’s because I don’t trust you, which I don’t, but it’s exactly like you said, Doc. I like unnerving you.” “You realize I’m less likely to be affected when I know that’s what you’re doing, right?” “Then humor me. Besides, maybe I won’t unnerve you this time, but I can definitely get your blood pumping.” I gritted my teeth and put all my strength into proving him wrong. I just hoped my body worked with me, not against me. Two could play his game … I hoped. Lifting my arms far enough, I let the towel slip from around me and looked up at him, holding his stare. It’s not like he hadn’t already seen me naked. I might have been fooled by his grin if I hadn’t noticed him swallow hard. Taking my hands, he untied them and opened the camisole so I could slip my arms through the straps. I shifted and maneuvered so he could slip it over my head, holding my arms in place as he pulled it down. As he tugged the shirt in place, the back of his fingers brushed my nipples and those backstabbing bitches tightened in response. A hiss steamed through my lips. Fuck! So close. He didn’t say anything as he lowered his head and whispered against my cheek.

“It was good for me, too, Red.” I’d never wanted to knee a man in the balls so badly. The sweet satisfaction of bringing him to his knees the way he continued to do to me was strong. “Get in bed,” he ordered, turning away from me, but I didn’t move. “What about bottoms?” “What about them?” “I need some.” “You’ll be fine the way you are. Besides, you’re less likely to try and run out of here wearing that,” he said, motioning to the thin, almost sheer material of my camisole. “I wouldn’t count on it.” “In that case …” He moved toward me, and I knew what his intent was. “Fine,” I hissed, backing away from him and around the bed to climb in. At that point, I was so exhausted I didn’t care. The odds of me getting away from him anytime soon were not in my favor. Sitting down on my bed, I offered up both of my hands to him. “If you’re going to tie me up, do it now.” Walking over to me, he grabbed something off my bed. Stopping in front of me, he stretched the black material of my thigh-high in his hands before wrapping it around his fists. Pushing his way between my legs, he leaned into me. I didn’t back down and move away from him. He was inches from my face when he asked, “Are you going to be good and stay put?” “I’m tired. I just want to sleep.” “Not good enough, Red. Let me hear you say you’re going to be good.” “I’m not going anywhere,” I said through gritted teeth. “Good. Because as much as I’d like to see you tied to the bed, I’m going to leave you untied.” “Fine. Whatever. I just want to go to sleep where I can pretend this isn’t happening to me.” He snorted as he walked away, which made me glare at his retreating back. But then he stopped. “Look … I didn’t know I’d find … I had no idea that’s what was going to be in the box,” he said as he ran his fingers through his thick hair. “Is that your half-assed way of apologizing? Because you really suck at it.” “Get some sleep. I’ll be right outside your door, Red. No funny business.”

He was walking toward the door, but before I could sleep, I had to know. “I think I have the right to know what you’re going to do to me.” The words rushed from my lips. His back stiffened, and I had the feeling maybe I didn’t want to know what his intentions were.



HER WORDS STOPPED ME. “You’re sadly mistaken, Red,” I told her over my shoulder. “You have no rights here. For the time being, you belong to me.” She didn’t respond, and for the first time tonight, she had no more fight left in her. “Are you going to kill me?” she whispered so softly I barely heard her. I refused to let myself feel sorry for her, but I could, at least, be honest with her. “I was. I wanted to, but I’m not a killer. So no, I’m not going to kill you.” But I will destroy your life and your father’s, I added to myself. It was clear she loved her father, believing him to be the saint he pretended to be. When she finally learned the truth, it would destroy her relationship with him and it would destroy her. Then I could move on. I’d be free, and justice would be served. I listened as she slid beneath her blankets and pulled them up around her. Walking toward the door, I flipped the switch and the light went out. I collapsed against the wall next to her door. That shit was harder than I expected, and I didn’t mean my dick, which was leaking pre-cum. I rolled my head to the side. Listening to the soft sounds of her breathing, I knew she had instantly fallen asleep. It was late or really early, depending on how you looked at it. The sky was starting to turn a light shade of pink, and I figured I should probably get some sleep, too, if I expected to go through with my plan. Nothing was completely figured

out, but for the most part, I knew what I was going to do. My plan to unravel the poised doctor at her seams had backfired majorly. I thought it would give me the upper hand and I’d get a fucking grip on the schoolboy attraction I had for her, but it was all going to shit. First, she called me out on my shit, and then she went head to head with me. She was a firecracker, and if this were any other situation, I would’ve fucked her already. But that wasn’t in the cards, which sucked since it was the first time in years that a woman had me so crazy in my boxers. I walked toward the kitchen and poured myself another shot. It didn’t go down as smooth as I wanted it to, so I took another. When I was back in her room, I fell victim to the sleep-inviting darkness. The soft sounds she made while she slept were like a lullaby, and I wanted nothing more than to lie down, too. Leaving the door open to her bathroom, I took a piss, splashed cold water on my face, and brushed my teeth with my finger. Turning off the light, I walked back into her bedroom and locked the door. I knew that wasn’t going to be enough, and if she woke up before me, there was a good chance I wouldn’t hear her try to leave the room, but sleep was winning. The bastard had failed me repeatedly until I wanted nothing to do with him. Looking at her sleeping body, I knew I shouldn’t. I fought myself every step toward her bed, but when I pulled back the blankets on the empty side of her bed and sat down, her warmth reached my thigh through my jeans and sent relaxation through my limbs. She stirred when the weight of my body shifted the mattress. A soft moan escaped her lips as she rolled onto her back, and the sound was torture. Pulling the black stocking from my pocket, I lightly wrapped it around her wrist a few times and knotted it over and over before attaching it and doing the same to my wrist. I knew she wouldn’t be able to get those knots out without waking me up in the process. Lying down, I let my body mold itself into her mattress and sleep claimed me.



I WASN’T SURE HOW long I had been sleeping when a loud noise woke me. The sun from the half-opened curtain cut into my eyes and lit up the side of the room. I sat up quickly and a heavy weight pulled on my arm. My stockings were tied around my wrist and attached to my captor—Sin. I didn’t know what more to think of his name other than the fact that it was another way to mock me. A small moan escaped Sin’s mouth and captured my attention. He was moving his head back and forth, a look of pain all over his face. Sweat poured down his forehead as he struggled with the blanket covering him. “No! You can’t let her die. Please don’t let her die!” he screamed out. It’d been a long time since I’d heard such raw anguish before. It made me ache for this man in ways I shouldn’t. “Don’t die, Chelsea! Please …” he whined. I knew it was wrong, but I reached out and pushed a thick piece of hair from his eyes. He was still struggling with the blanket, so I pulled it free from his body. Sweat drenched his entire shirt. “Hey,” I said as I softly shoved his shoulder. Still, he didn’t wake up. Instead, he thrashed around harder. “Please don’t die!” he screamed out one final time.

I reached down and laid my palm against his cheek. “Shhh, it’s okay,” I whispered as I tried to calm him. He yanked his arm hard, pulling me toward him. I didn’t have time to balance myself and I fell across his chest. His body felt hard and strong beneath me. His wide shoulders engulfed me as he held me close in his arms. He looked up at me, confused, with wide eyes. He looked like a man who’d just returned from a trip to hell. “Nightmares?” I asked. When he said nothing, I continued. “Are you okay?” His breathing was fast and deep. He released me as he reached up and used the back of his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Still, he said nothing. I crawled off him and he let me. I adjusted my clothes and wiped the sleep from my eyes as he untied the stockings from his wrist and sat up, dropping his head forward. It took me a little longer to unknot and untie my end, but I finally got it and rubbed the imprint. “Can I ask you something?” I said. “What?” he said, aggravated. “Who’s Chelsea?” I asked softly, unable to control my curiosity. “I’m not one of your patients. This isn’t a session so don’t try to work me, Red.” “It was just a question.” “Rule number three: don’t ask me questions.” “Now we have rules?” “There’ve always been rules.” “What’s rule number one and two?” “You don’t need to worry about it.” “What happens if I break them and I don’t even know it?” “You won’t.” “Whatever. I want to take a shower.” He sighed. “Fine. Go.” I got up quickly and nearly ran toward the bathroom, afraid he might change his mind or worse. “Need any help?” he called at my back. I froze inside the door between my bedroom and bathroom. “No,” I snapped, slamming the door behind me before he could respond. I leaned against the door, letting it hold my weight as I took a deep breath. I knew I hadn’t gotten very much sleep and my brain felt sluggish, but I needed to think.

My heart jumped into my throat, choking me, as a loud knock sounded on the door. “Leave it unlocked,” he demanded. I didn’t respond, and he got louder. “Do you hear me?” I rubbed my fingers into my eyes and dropped my head back against the door, staring up at the ceiling. He wiggled the door handle roughly. “If you don’t answer me, I will come in there, I will undress you, and I will wash every —” “Okay!” I yelled. Damn him! Damn him straight to hell! Moving to my shower, I opened the glass door and turned on the spray, knowing I needed to work quickly. Going through my dirty hamper, I found a pair of my workout shorts and slipped them on. Going to the small bathroom window, I unlocked the first lock at the bottom and then turned to watch the door. One, two, three … I mentally counted to five in my head before turning around and reaching up on my toes to unlock the second. I slid it open and sunshine and fresh air filled my now steamed bathroom. Again, I looked back at the door and waited. Nothing. The window was too high for me. “Shit!” I whispered and looked around my bathroom for something to stand on. Tiptoeing past the door, I picked up the small plastic trashcan and emptied it into the sink. Setting it upside down on the floor in front of the window, I stepped onto it. It wasn’t much help, but it would do. I lifted myself onto the window and the metal seal dug into my stomach, but I ignored it, wiggling myself farther out the window. Hesitating, I realized my only option was to fall face first into the bushes below, so I perched on the windowsill and worked up the nerve. My scream pierced the morning air when his hands gripped my thigh and pulled me back. The windowsill cut into my stomach and tears stung the corners of my eyes. “No!” I yelled as I kicked at him with my other leg. It was no use. He pulled me back into the bathroom with barely any effort on his part. His hand clamped over my mouth, cutting off my cry as he pulled me to him. His grip was angry and so was the breath he hissed against the side of my face. Moving toward the window, he closed it and then flipped me around. The back of my head snapped back as he pushed me. Pain shot through my skull as he slammed me against the wall. Tears streamed over my cheeks as I slid down the bathroom wall and onto the floor. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I cried into them. Neither of us said anything. He turned quickly, throwing open the shower door and

shutting off the water. “Your shower privileges are officially gone.” “Fuck you,” I said, lifting my head to glare at him. I stiffened as he walked toward me. A brief moment of fear washed over me as he pulled me up by the arm and slammed both of his fists into the wall beside my head. Bits of white plaster trickled down, landing at my bare feet. “Believe me, Red, I’ve already been fucked. By God, by life, by your father, and even by you!” He sneered. An hour later, I found myself fully clothed and tied to the trusty kitchen chair. I was starving, the back of my head was killing me, and I felt disgusting since I’d missed my chance for a shower. I guess that’s what I got for being stupid enough to plan an escape out of the bathroom window. At least, I wasn’t blindfolded anymore, and at least, he wasn’t sneering at me every time he looked at me. Instead, he walked back and forth across my living room as if walking gave him all the answers. I wiggled in my chair when my butt started to fall asleep. He stopped to look over at me like I was trying to run away again. It was that exact moment that my stomach began to protest. The growl that filled the room was embarrassing and manly. Sin’s eyes went large and the side of his mouth lifted. “Hungry?” he asked sarcastically. “Starving.” He dug through my refrigerator, pulling out eggs and cheese. He didn’t even ask what I wanted as he quickly whipped up a cheese omelet like he was a professional chef. The smells of good cooking wafted throughout the kitchen, making my stomach growl even louder. Once he was done, he untied my hands and set a plate in front of me. All it was missing was the signature useless greenery for decoration. The omelet was beautiful. Cheese oozed from the edges and begged me to devour it. “Do you cook a lot?” I asked as I scooped up a forkful. I shoved it into my mouth like the starved woman I was and practically moaned in pleasure. It tasted even better than it looked. “I used to,” he said bluntly as he took a bite of his own omelet. “Not anymore?” I asked around a mouthful of cheese. It was totally unladylike, but then again, he’d seen me at my worst. Who gave a rat’s ass what he thought of me? “No.”

“Why not? You seem to enjoy it, and you’re pretty good at it.” Tossing his fork onto his plate, a loud clank echoed through the tiny kitchen. “Give it a rest. It’s a fucking omelet. I mixed a few eggs. What’s with all the questions?” he asked roughly. “I’m just trying to figure you out. I watched you. You love to cook, yet you said you don’t anymore. Why?” He took another bite and sighed. “I don’t have anyone to cook for anymore.” Pain flashed across his eyes, and I wanted to pet him like a wounded animal. “Who did you used to cook for?” I asked. I knew I was pushing, but I couldn’t help myself. “Did you cook for Chelsea?” I used the name he’d been calling out in his sleep. The plate broke in two as he lifted it and slammed it onto the table. “Enough!” he growled. I said nothing as he stood and dropped his broken plate and half-eaten omelet into the trash. I didn’t know what it was, but I followed behind him. He was hurting so badly, and even though I knew I shouldn’t care, I wanted to help him. “You can talk to me, you know?” I said. “I told you to stop trying to work me. I’m beyond help, Red.” “No one is beyond help. Not even you … Sin.” “The fact that my name is Sin should tell you I’m a lost cause.” “I’ve yet to meet anyone that was a lost cause.” “You think you can help me?” He pressed against me, trapping me between him and the counter. “You think if I lay my head in your lap and let you pet it while I cry and tell you all my problems, you can fix me and make me all better?” “Why do you have to mock everything I say and do?” “Do I? What does it matter? Why do you care what I think? I’m the piece of shit scum who’s keeping you hostage in your own home.” “You said you have a good reason. I believe you.” “You do, do you? Just like that?” I swallowed hard. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to get myself into more trouble than I needed. Sin was smart. It was crazy, but he was unlike anyone I’d ever met. He could see through me and it scared the shit out of me. “It’s human nature to survive. When we feel backed into a corner, we’ll do anything we must to survive. That’s what you’re doing, right? Trying to survive.” “I’m just trying to get through one day to the next, Red.” “There’s nothing wrong with asking for a little help, Sin. It doesn’t make you any less

of a man to—” “Wait, is that why you think I don’t want help? Because I’m worried about being less of a man? Red, you couldn’t be more wrong right now if you tried.” His hips moved against mine, and I all but liquefied into a puddle at his feet. He leaned over and his breath tickled my ear. “But if it’s proof you need, I’ll be more than happy to deliver.” His lips brushed the rim of my ear as he spoke. “You do that whenever you think I’m getting too close for comfort.” “Do what?” he asked. I gasped when I felt the smooth edges of his teeth on my earlobe. “Use sex as a weapon. You came into this plan unarmed, and the minute you found out I was attracted to you, you thought you figured out my weakness. But that’s not what makes me weak, Sin.” “Is that an invitation to let me figure out your weakness, Doctor?” He twisted his fingers around a fistful of my hair and pulled until my neck arched. His breath was warm and savory with the hint of tequila. “You’re trying to get under my skin.” “That seems fair since you’re trying to do the same with me. Isn’t this what you were asking for when you walked up to me in the restaurant? Excitement? Someone to take control and show you exactly what you’ve been missing?” “Yes,” I answered honestly. “And if it was anyone but you in any situation than this, I’d probably already be on my knees. But it’s not.” I tried to keep the breathy gasps from escaping during my whole spiel. The truth was, I was a damn liar. Not about the situation part. I did wish Sin wasn’t using me for some twisted agenda against my father, but I didn’t think anyone else could make me feel the way Sin did. “You think someone else could make you feel like this?” “Yes.” “You’re lying, Doctor.” “You don’t know me well enough to know that.” “Maybe not, but your body says differently. It responds to me.” “It’s responding to the situation. You’re mistaking my fear for lust.” “Keep it up, Doc. You’re just piling up the lies.” “I’m not lying,” I insisted weakly. He moved so he was staring down into my face. He was so close. Only a matter of measly inches separated us.

“So if I were to kiss you right now, you’d feel nothing? Nothing at all.” “Nothing.” His breath teased my lips and I held my breath. My heart beat furiously against my chest and fear ran wild through my veins. Not fear that he’d kiss me, but fear that he would and I wouldn’t want him to stop. I nearly screamed as my doorbell echoed throughout my apartment. Sin tensed, moving away from me. We both looked at my door as if we expected it to open on its own. “Who is it?” he hissed quietly. “I don’t know.” I wasn’t expecting anyone. I rarely got company, and the two most likely people to be on the other end were both out of the country. “Ask who it is.” He grabbed my arm and pushed me toward the door. “You don’t have to be so rough,” I hissed, trying to pull my arm free, but he wouldn’t allow it. “Ask.” He ignored me and pushed me again. Taking a deep breath, I asked, “Who is it?” “Police! Open up.”



EVERYTHING STOPPED. THE police officer on the other side of the door beat on it once more, making the pictures on the wall beside the door shake. Red looked at me with wide eyes. A mixture of fear and relief filled them. “Shit,” I hissed as I grabbed handfuls of hair. I didn’t know what to do. If she didn’t open the door, they’d know something was up, but if she did open the door, there was a chance I’d be arrested on the spot. Who knew? Maybe someone heard us arguing or maybe heard her scream. Perhaps the walls of her apartment were paper-thin and a neighbor had called the police. “What do you want to do?” she asked. It was a weird question for her to ask. Like she was on my side and not my hostage. Reaching up, I hooked the chain on the door so she couldn’t open it all the way. “Open the door as far as you can with the chain on and tell them you’re okay. Don’t do anything stupid or I swear to God …” “I got it,” she hissed back at me. Adjusting her top, she cracked the door, hiding most of her body behind it. The gold chain that was keeping the door from opening completely pulled tightly. I watched as realization filled her expression. “Ethan? What the hell are you doing back already, and why are you dressed like a cop?” Instantly, the stress in my shoulders lessened. It wasn’t a cop, just someone pretending

to be a cop. She plastered on a big fake smile and patted at her hair like she was aware she wasn’t perfectly made over. I preferred her that way. Hair down and tangled, no pretty skirts or pantsuits—just her in her comfortable clothes as if she were sitting around on a lazy Sunday. “You said you wanted me to spice things up. I thought I’d surprise you,” said the guy on the other side of the door. I had to control my laughter. So she wasn’t sexually satisfied. That explained her pink pleasure box hidden in her closet. “Can I come in? I missed you so much, Emily,” he said, and her body tensed. Jealousy reared its ugly head, which was totally absurd since I had no reason to be jealous. Emily wasn’t mine, and I never wanted her to be. So why did I want to pull the door open and beat Mr. Let’s Play Stripper Cop in the face with something hard? “Get rid of him,” I whispered at her side. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. For a brief second, I was worried she’d squeal and send her boy toy to the real cops for help. Instead, she lifted her shoulders and shot him with another fake smile. “Now’s not a good time, Ethan.” There was a moment of silence and then I heard him take a deep breath. “What’s going on, Emily? You’re acting funny, and I must say, I’ve never seen you dressed so … Wait, is someone else here with you?” I could hear the question in his voice. He thought what any red-blooded male would think if a half-naked woman with mussed hair and wide eyes met him at the door. And then it hit me. He had to go, and I could make him go. Before Emily had a chance to say anything, I swung the door open, ripping it from the chain. “Look, dude, you need to go. Emily’s with me now. Sorry.” His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something, but I slammed the door in his face before he could. A real man would have beat on the door. A real man would have kicked it down. Ethan obviously wasn’t a real man. Had she been mine and things were different, I would’ve ripped the fucking door from its hinges, but there was no noise except for his footsteps as he took the stairs down. I peeked out the blinds and watched as the pussy policeman made his way to his richboy SUV and drove away. When I turned around, Emily stared back at me, her face red with anger. “I can’t believe you just did that!” she screamed. I couldn’t help myself. A smile spread across my face.

“Oh, please. I did you a favor. What a pussy boy.” I chuckled. “Don’t call him that.” “Why? Does it bother you to know he didn’t even fight for you? Poor Emily, unloved by Ethan,” I joked. Tears filled her angry eyes and I felt bad for teasing her. “Oh, I’m loved. I don’t think I could say the same about you, but I’m definitely loved.” Her words cut through me. She was right. Not many people left in the world loved me. Almost everyone I’d ever loved was long gone. I snapped. “Oh, is that right? Who loves you, Emily? Certainly not pretty boy Ethan since he just walked away and left you in my hands,” I taunted. A single tear slipped down her cheek. I was making an impact and it was wrong, but I liked it. “My father loves me,” she said with a glare. “Your father doesn’t know shit about love. He’s the son of a bitch who—” I stopped myself, not ready for her to know that part yet. “What? What did he do?” “Your father’s a very bad man. He’s going to suffer and you’re going to be the one to help me destroy him.” There, now she knew. Now she knew her part in all of this. She jerked back as if I had just slapped her, and her eyebrows pulled together. “What? You’re out of your mind. I’m not helping you do anything to my father,” she spat. “Look around, Red. You don’t have a choice. I’m running the shots here, and if you want your father to live, you’re going to do exactly what I say.” Her face paled and her lower lip trembled. “If I want him to live? So if I refuse to help, you’re going to kill him?” “Exactly.” There was no trace of hesitation in my voice. “Your father took something from me, and I’m about to take everything from him.” My eyes narrowed to angry slits as I issued my promise. “Including you.” Shock paralyzed her for only a second before she matched my stance, and her voice was a low grumble. “There is nothing you could do that would ever, ever take me away from my father.” “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Red. Your father’s not the almighty man you think he is and I’ll prove it to you, and then … you’ll help me prove it to the world.” She gasped. “You actually think I’m going to help you with your twisted revenge plan for my own father?”

“I don’t think.” I know.



SIN STOOD WATCHING as I packed a bag full of essential items. With Ethan coming to the door, Sin said he couldn’t take the chance of someone else showing up. So I packed my things and prepared to leave my apartment without a clue to where I’d end up. “Are you ready to go yet?” he asked impatiently. “Hold your horses. I’m almost done,” I said as I tied my hair back in a ponytail and slipped on a pair of flats. “Where are we going anyway?” “You ask too many questions. Just hurry before another one of your sexually unsatisfying boy toys shows up dressed like an astronaut or something equally crazy,” he said sarcastically. Ethan showing up dressed like a cop was embarrassing but more than the embarrassment was the anger I felt toward myself for not taking the chance to relay a message to Ethan when I had the chance. He could have been my savior. Real cops ready to save my ass could already be surrounding my apartment. I didn’t bother to correct him. My personal life was none of his business. I stood and grabbed my bag. Making sure everything in my apartment was turned off, I walked behind him to the front door. “When we get outside, don’t pull any stupid shit. If you do, you’ll only make it worse on yourself. Understand?” I nodded my understanding. “Say it, Red. I want to hear you say you understand.”

“I got it,” I growled. I was already over being treated like a piece of shit, and after all his comments about my father, I was done. As soon as I got a chance, I was gone. It didn’t matter what threats he made. I needed to get away from him. With him following closely behind me, we made our way down the stairs to the bottom floor. My duffle bag was heavy, but I turned down his offer to carry it for me. The last thing I needed was for him to think I was weak. I had to stay strong, and even if I wasn’t, I had to portray a strength that could frighten him into not hurting me. Of course, the whole strong, independent woman persona I was passing off went to shit the minute my shoe caught a piece of jagged concrete and I tripped down the next stair. Thankfully, I missed my skull and only my ass caught the hard step beneath me. Also, it was a good thing Sin had been in front of me. Instead of falling down an entire set of stairs, I only fell down three. He reached out and grabbed my hand to pull me up. “I told you not to touch me again,” I snapped as I pulled my hand from his. “I’m just trying to help you up. Let me help.” He reached for my arm again, but again, I yanked it from his grasp. “Damnit, Emily, let me help you.” As much as I hated to admit it, I loved the way he said my name. It was the first time he’d called me Emily without disdain behind it. I was so used to hearing him call me Princess or Red, but the way he said Emily made my heart skip a beat. Still, I had to remain angry. If I let something as simple as him saying my name melt me, there was no way I’d make it out of this alive. “I don’t need your help. I don’t need anything from you except for this whole stupid mess to be over. I just want my boring life back. And I’d give anything to never have …” I stopped. “To never have what? Say it. Say it, and I promise I won’t touch you again.” Lifting my head to meet his dark eyes, I put as much venom as I could into the bite. “I wish I had never kissed you, and when this is all over with, I hope you rot in hell.” “Wish granted, baby. I’m already in hell.” He walked away from me, tortured, but I refused to feel sorry for him. A second later, he was backtracking angrily and standing in front of me. “I mean it when I say I won’t touch you again, unless,” he hissed, leaning over me and taking my arm in his firm hand. He pulled me to my feet so fast I had no time to react. I landed against his hard chest, knocking the breath from me. “You beg me to, and when you do, I won’t stop.” Gripping his fingers tightly and twisting until he let my arm go, I practically hissed at

him. “That will never happen.” He shook his head and chuckled softly to himself. “Never say never, Red.” The next thing I knew, I was in the backseat of his old car and headed in the opposite direction from town. Ten minutes later, he parked and pulled me from his car. I struggled against his hold, but it was useless. He was so much stronger than I was. I’d hoped that someone would have seen my struggle and at least called the police, but no such luck for me. We didn’t pass a single person as we made our way into a grimy brick building and to his front door. As soon as he opened the door, the smell of old beer and ass reached my nose. “For the love of God, what the hell is that smell? Are you hiding drunk old hookers in there or something?” I asked as I pinched my nose. “I don’t know. Do you consider yourself a drunk old hooker?” he said as he shut the door behind us and locked it. The room around me was dark and empty. Not a single picture hung on the walls and the only pieces of furniture were an old plaid couch that had seen better days, a nastylooking bed with scattered sheets, and a few tables that held an insane amount of liquor and beer bottles. “Alcoholic much?” I asked sarcastically as I eyed the room. He didn’t respond. Instead, he pushed me farther into the room. “Keep moving,” he snapped. The smell seemed to get worse the farther we moved into his space. I actually gagged. Everything I’d eaten rushed to my throat and I had to choke it down. “Seriously, Sin. Open a window or something. I think I’m going to be sick.” He sighed and pressed past me to throw open a window and let a breeze flow through the small apartment. “Happy?” he snapped as he turned around toward the kitchen. “It’s not that bad.” “Not that bad? You must not have a sense of smell at all. It’s seriously awful.” I sat on the couch and watched with my duffle bag gripped in my lap as he moved around the space, picking up empty bottles and trash. It wasn’t long until daylight dissolved into night. Thankfully, he allowed me to shower. His bathroom was small and had no windows. Not that I would’ve tried to escape from three stories up. Not to mention, I could hear him breathing on the other side of his bathroom door. Once I was done, he tied me to a chair while he took his own shower. I tried with all my might to get loose, but he must have been an Army man once upon a time because he tied tighter knots than a sailor and took the shortest showers known to man. An hour later and I was tied to my captor in a bed that could’ve used some fresh sheets

without even being the slightest bit tired. I lay there bouncing escape ideas through my head as he softly snored. I tried again to pick at the knots, but all that got me was jerked to the side when he turned abruptly in his sleep. Soon, I gave up and let sleep take me away. I was almost out when Sin began to thrash around in bed and call out for Chelsea again. Sweat dripped from his cheeks and pain marked his expressions. Reaching out, I pressed my palm against the side of his face. “Sin, wake up. Everything’s okay. Just wake up.” I shook him a little. After nudging him a few times, he jumped up in bed as if the sheets were on fire. He was shaking as if he’d just visited the depths of hell, and his face was pale in the moonlight that broke through the dark curtains that hung next to the bed. “Are you okay?” I asked. He quickly unknotted himself from me and walked across the room. Though he hid in the darkness, I could still hear his breathing. And then something came to me. Chelsea … she had something to do with my being in his apartment. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I knew she was responsible for his erratic behavior. Walking over to the small window in the room, he pushed it open and leaned onto the window seal as he stuck his head out and sucked in air like it was the last time he’d ever breathe again. I already knew the subject of Chelsea was a bad one, but I couldn’t help myself. “She’s the reason you’re doing all this, isn’t she? Chelsea, whoever she is, she’s the reason you’re so easily throwing your life away.” His body went tense in the moonlight, and I knew I’d hit a nerve. “Believe me, what I’m doing isn’t easy. Nothing about this is fucking easy, and you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about so why don’t you just shut the hell up.” Anger radiated from him like steam in a cold room, but I didn’t back down. “No. I won’t. Do you think she’d be happy with you? Do you think this is what she wants for you? I don’t know her, and I sure as hell don’t know you, but I don’t think she’s going to be happy about this when she finds out. And she will find out, Sin. Everyone will.” He exploded, making me push back on his bed. “She’s dead!” he roared as he turned on me. His teeth gnashed as he growled like an angry beast. “Chelsea, my beautiful, amazing daughter, is dead, and your pitiful excuse for a father is the reason.”



MY EYES BURNED with my fury. She’d pushed too hard and I could feel myself cracking in front of her. Just hearing her say Chelsea’s name made me feel sick. His blood moved through her veins and therefore, she had no right to even think about my daughter, much less speak her name. I hadn’t meant to say so much to Emily, but anger makes you do stupid things. “Your daughter?” she choked. I could tell by her expression that she’d thought Chelsea was a girlfriend or someone insignificant. I could tell by the rush of tears to her eyes that she felt like shit for pushing too hard, but I didn’t care about her feelings. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. A tear bounced from her lashes and splashed onto my sheets. “Don’t,” I barked. “Don’t you dare apologize to me. It will only piss me off more.” I started toward the bathroom, but she jumped from the bed and stopped me. “What does my father have to do with your daughter? I’m confused, Sin.” I didn’t answer. Instead, I stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door behind me. I’d left her alone and untied. My luck, she would run from my apartment, screaming, but at that moment, I didn’t give a fuck. Let her call whomever she wanted. I was angry enough to take on the entire police force. I was surprised when I opened the door to find her still sitting on my bed.

“You didn’t run off?” I shook my head. She didn’t know about the lock I put on the front door, which meant she thought she had a chance to escape, yet she hadn’t taken it. What did that mean? Why hadn’t she run and saved herself from me? Saved me from myself? “Stupid little princess,” I said rudely as I turned and went toward the kitchen for a beer. I knew I was being a dick, but I wanted her to hurt as badly as I was. When I reached the refrigerator, I was pissed when I saw nothing in it but a few bottles of water and some food. Constance. Her nosy ass had come over and taken away what I used to numb the pain. “Fuck!” I growled as I pulled at my hair. When I turned back around, Emily was standing there staring back at me. “What’s wrong? No liquor to drown yourself with?” she snarled. “I’d watch it if I were you,” I said as I began to dig through the cabinets. I needed something, anything to dull the pain ripping through me. “What are you going to do? Smack me around?” she asked with a shitty smirk. She was pushing my buttons on purpose, and it was time I pushed back. “No. I know that’s probably what you’re thinking and all, but I’m not your father. I don’t like to inflict harm on innocent girls,” I shot back. Her face turned red and she lifted her arm like she was about to hit me. I moved quickly. “Do it,” I growled, inches from her face. “You know you want to. Hit me!” She shook as her body vibrated with anger against mine. I hadn’t realized I was so close. The tips of her breasts brushed against my chest, and all I wanted to do was push her up against the kitchen wall and fuck her until she couldn’t remember anything but the echo of my name. I’d been too wrapped up in the rise and fall of her breasts that I missed it coming. Her tiny palm cracked across my cheek with everything she had and my head snapped to the side. I narrowed my eyes and slowly turned my head toward her. My jaw shifted and I rubbed the line of my jaw with my hand. She didn’t back down from my gaze, and that fucking turned me on. “Do you feel better?” I asked, my voice dangerously low. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, a small tingle of excitement ran down her spine. “Yes,” she spat.

“Good. Now, it’s my turn.” Her breath caught when I gave her a shove hard enough to push her back into the wall. Her eyes flashed in the darkness of the room as she watched me descend on her. My mouth came down hard on hers and the thrust of my tongue and the element of surprise was enough to break through the barrier of her lips. I filled her mouth, sweeping my tongue over hers, and she tried to hide the low growl deep in her throat by fighting me. Her fists pushed against the wall of my chest, but I was stronger than she was and I wasn’t going anywhere. Struggling only worked toward my advantage as her body fought not to give in. “Ouch! Damnit!” I hissed, pinning her to the wall with my hips so I could pull back. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, tasting blood. “If you wanted to play rough, all you had to do was say so, Red.” “Let me go, Sin,” she demanded, and her voice broke over my name. If it had been fear that tangled her voice, I would have walked away right then and there. Maybe… but it wasn’t. Passion—raw, unfiltered passion was the only thing I could hear, and I wasn’t about to let her go anytime soon. Her hand came up again, but this time, I was ready and I caught her wrist in an iron grip. “I let you do it once. Don’t push your luck.” I pressed her hand above her head and held it against the wall. My fingers tangled in the messy strands of her hair and I made a fist, pulling her head back. She gasped but didn’t fight it, and I knew she wanted this as badly as I wanted to give it to her. “Let me go!” “I’ll make you a deal. If you’re not as wet as I think you are right now, I’ll let you go. I won’t touch you again unless you fucking beg me to.” “That’s not a deal. That’s just a reason for you to have your way with me.” “If I wanted to have my way with you, I would’ve had you the minute I walked into your bathroom and found you half naked. What are you afraid of?” “I’m not afraid of anything,” she said defiantly. I wanted to call her a liar, but I was the one who was afraid of pushing her too far. I wanted to touch her so fucking bad the ache nearly brought me to my knees. I didn’t have liquor to take away the pain, but I had her. She made me feel so many other things, and I needed that. “So do we have a deal?” She didn’t say anything, but the slight sag in her weight and the set of her chin told me we did. I smiled in the dark, very aware of how unnerving it looked. Spinning her around by the hand I had imprisoned above her head, I pushed her into the wall, still holding her

arm there. She made a startled sound and her rapid breathing made her chest rise and fall against the wall. Moving her head to the side, I brushed my nose down the side of her neck and over her shoulder. “Does it feel good?” I asked against the back of her neck, and she shivered. “The way your nipples rub against the wall with each breath you take?” She didn’t respond so I pushed my chest into her back, driving her harder against the wall. Not enough to hurt her, but enough that I got the reaction I wanted. She whimpered and her back arched. I smiled against her skin. “I bet it would feel better if this pesky thing wasn’t in the way,” I said, fingering the strap to her camisole. Hooking my finger under the strap, I pulled it down until her breasts were bare and pressing into the wall. “Now, take a deep breath.” “This wasn’t part of the deal,” she snapped, but it was all for show. “Do it,” I ordered, and she sighed, pressing her forehead into the wall but breathing in deeply. As she did, her nipples brushed against the cold paneling and she trembled. “Again,” I said roughly, my voice a dark veil of hunger. “Sin …” “Again,” I growled, and she did, this time, unable to control the moan that slipped between her lips. I wanted to make her admit it felt good, but her reaction was telling me everything I needed to know. Bringing her other hand up above her head, I imprisoned them both there. Running my hand down her arm, over the back of her shoulder, I made sure my palm moved over the side of her breast and my fingers over her hardened nipple. I caught it between two fingers and pulled slightly as I moved my hand down farther. Her response was more than I bargained for as she moaned loudly and rubbed her ass against my cock. I almost came and I had to stop, my hand gripping her hip, keeping her against me. I wanted to rub myself against her ass again and again until I felt the relief my body wanted, but I wasn’t ready for it to be over yet. Moving my hand over her stomach, I couldn’t help but press her back into me before slipping my fingers underneath the band of her panties. I wanted to take my time and enjoy her slowly, but my fingers couldn’t move fast enough and they slipped easily between the soft folds of her skin. As if on cue, we both sighed when I found the tight knot. I never remembered feeling a woman so wet in my life. My fingers were slick with her desire as I moved them over the sensitive knot.

“Sin,” she moaned my name and moved against my fingers again. It went downhill from there. It was like a domino effect, and she couldn’t get enough. My fingers moved over her, again and again, giving her exactly what she wanted. What she needed. I bit her shoulder and she made low growling noises deep in her throat and pressed her ass against me while moving her hips in sync with my fingers. I could feel the tremors shaking her body and I knew it was only a matter of time before she exploded. Moving my hand from her panties, I didn’t give her time to complain as I spun her back around and captured her hands above her once again. It turned me on to have complete control over her. I pushed her panties down with one hand and they fell to her ankles. “Look at me,” I told her. Her hooded eyes found mine. “I want to watch you unravel for me. Open your legs,” I snarled. She opened as far as the discarded lace around her ankles would allow, and her gaze never left mine. My fingers moved into her slick heat, and I worked my thumb over the knot until her pupils dilated into a dark shade of black. She moved her hips in rhythm, and I pushed two fingers into her. She gripped me with her tight muscles, pushing down harder on my hand. The noises she wept were animalistic, and it was all I could do to keep myself from coming in my boxers. She tugged her hands, needing the freedom of her arms to come undone, but I wouldn’t give it to her. She trembled and jerked and I knew she was reaching the end. Pressing harder, she screamed my name and her body was no longer her own as I felt the heat of her release in my hand. Aftershocks attacked her body as she slumped against the wall, exhausted and spent. I wanted to join in with her sweet release, but when she looked up at me with that look in her eyes, reality was a bitter taste in my mouth. Looking down into her flushed, glowing face, she stared back at me in confusion. “I win,” I taunted angrily as I let go of her. She nearly fell to the floor the second my hands left her body. “You bastard,” she cried. Humiliation colored her skin. “I never claimed to be anything else, Red.” “Don’t call me that. Don’t you dare fucking call me that again.” I shrugged as if I couldn’t care less and turned to walk away. “Don’t touch me again either, Sin. Do you hear me? You disgust me, and I’d rather die than have your hands on my body again.” I didn’t turn around when I answered her. If I saw her face, the hurt and embarrassment at the lack of give-a-shit on my end, I’d probably do something really

stupid, like beg her to forgive me and throw her on the bed, sinking myself so deep inside her that she’d feel me everywhere. Holding the doorknob in my hand, I threw out one last nail in the coffin. “Suit yourself, princess. I’ve had better anyway. Too bad you can’t say the same.” I needed air. I needed to be outside, away from her—away from her sensual smell that surrounded me and away from her sweet body that cried for me just minutes before. Stepping out, I shut the door on her a second before I heard the crash and shatter of glass against the wood.



I’D DIED AND gone to heaven, and Sin took me there. I’d never felt anything so intense in my entire life. My body hummed with satisfaction and my brain scattered into a million sparkling pieces. I was born again in his hands, and he had softly brought me into his world with just the touch of his fingers. Something told me it was a distraction from my questions, and I had to admit it worked. I couldn’t remember for the life of me what I’d been asking him about. All I could think about was the sweet pleasure he was giving me and the release that had rocked me senseless. All of those feelings were gone the minute he’d opened his mouth, and once his door was slammed in my face, I let my embarrassment loose. How could I have been so stupid? How did I let him get me so wrapped up in him? He’d said he’d won, and I had to admit to myself as much as it killed me that he was right. He won, but in my eyes, I won, too. Oh God, had I ever won such a sweet prize. I checked the front door only to find that he had locked me in. The bastard! I wanted to scratch out his eyes and ride his fingers at the same time. I hated how mixed up he had me. One minute, I was angrier than I’d ever been in my life, and the next, all I could think about was his hands and his lips and the things he could do to me with both. By the time he returned to his apartment, I was calmer. Of course, by then, I’d also trashed his already shitty apartment. He took a look around the place and shook his head like I was a joke. “Really, Red? I hope you know you’re cleaning that shit up,” he said as he threw a

brown paper bag on the kitchen counter and began to pull out bottles. He wasted no time popping open the bottle of tequila and taking a big swig. “Cleaning what? This entire place is a fuck hole,” I said as I threw myself onto his ugly couch with crossed arms. I didn’t care if I was acting like a child. I was pissed and turned on and every other emotion I didn’t need at the moment. I was worried about my father. I was sure by then Ethan had called him, and I was positive my dad was blowing up my cell phone. Sin smirked over at me. Again, I was taken aback by how sexy he was. Immediately after that thought, I wanted to slap myself and him. “A fuck hole? Really, Red, such bad language. Also, it’s not nice to insult people’s homes. Didn’t your daddy teach you any manners?” I hated the way he said “daddy” as if it were a disgusting word. “You’re an asshole.” He chuckled to himself. “Yes, I am, but that didn’t seem to matter to you a few minutes ago when you rode my hand until you came.” He was right. I hadn’t cared about anything at that moment, and I hated him even more for that. “Fuck you,” I hissed. I tensed as he prowled across the room. He stood there waiting for me to look up at him, but I refused. “Look at me,” he commanded. “Look at me or I’ll make you look at me and you don’t want a repeat of that … or do you?” I hated feeling like I was being backed into a corner, but I wouldn’t give him a reason to think I wanted him to touch me even if a tiny part of me did. Turning, I glared at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d like for me to climb on top of you and sink all of me into all of you,” he whispered. Shivers worked their way up my back and into my hairline. “I’m right. I can tell that by the way your eyes dilated at just the thought. But guess what, Red? I’d rather fuck a hole in the wall. Plus, it’s pussy boy Ethan’s job to get you off. Consider what happened earlier a way for me to shut you up.” He walked casually away like he hadn’t just hurt my feelings worse than they’d ever been hurt before. I wanted to cry, but I refused to give him that satisfaction. Instead, I pulled my knees up to my chest and fell asleep holding myself. When I woke, I lay there with my eyes closed and listened as he cleaned the apartment around us. Apparently, I’d gotten to him—even if it was a little. The doctor inside me knew I was going about this all the wrong way, and I knew I had to start treating Sin like one of my patients. That would also help with my sick desire to have sex with him. I was a lot of things, but a bad doctor wasn’t one of them. I knew I was

good at what I did, and I was determined to fix the sick man who was grieving over his daughter. He was wrong about my father. His helplessness to control his daughter’s death made him focus his misplaced anger on my dad and me. The first thing I had to do was find out more about Chelsea. But it was hard to do that when there wasn’t a single thing in his world that looked like it belonged to a little girl. Not to mention, if I even brought up her name, he became a beast. I had to work fast and stealthy. He couldn’t know I was working him. “You can open your eyes. I know you’re awake,” he said as he opened and fluffed a trash bag. I sat up on the couch and rubbed at my sleep-filled eyes. “What time is it?” I asked. “Almost time for bed. Do you always sleep all day?” “No. Only when I’m being forced to stay indoors all day with nothing to do,” I shot back. “I’ll give you something to do. Why don’t you help me clean this shit up?” I had to admit the place did look worse after I trashed it, not that it ever looked nice. I could hardly believe I’d thrown a childlike tantrum and destroyed his place. That was totally out of character for Doctor Gelding, but then again, I became a different person around Sin. I stood from the couch and grabbed a bag. Scooping up some broken glass and trash, I began to fill the bag. “I’m sorry about your place. I’ve never been that angry before.” It hurt to apologize to him, but I knew it was step one. “It couldn’t be any worse than it was before,” he said as he strained to lift the couch and sweep under it. I took that as a white flag. We were both waving them, which was a good thing if I wanted to get any information about my father and his daughter out of him. “So do you have any food? I’m starving.” As soon as the words left my mouth, my stomach growled loudly. “Shit. No. Now that mention it, I’m kind of hungry myself. Do you think you can control yourself while I run out for some stuff?” “I don’t know. Are you going to lock me in again?” “Of course. I can’t have you running out and turning me in, now can I?” “Then I guess I don’t have a choice. Yes, I can control myself,” I said as I continued to clean.

Picking up a stack of papers and trash, I hadn’t noticed the big chunk of glass sticking out until it punctured the palm of my hand. “Ouch! Shit,” I said as I held up my hand. As if the thick piece of glass sticking out of my hand wasn’t enough, the blood that was seeping out of the gash and running down my arm was making my stomach turn. I’d been around blood a lot in my life but never had so much of it been mine. Sin was beside me in seconds and ushering me into the bathroom. My blood began dripping onto the cold tile floor. “Shit,” he said as he shook his head at me again. “Are you always so clumsy?” “Not always. No, don’t pull it out!” I said quickly when I noticed what he was about to do. “I have to pull it out, Red. You can’t walk around with a piece of glass sticking out of your hand. Now, be still.” I turned my head and he quickly plucked the glass from my palm and covered my hand with a towel. “How is it?” I asked when he removed the towel to look over the cut. I still couldn’t bring myself to look. “You’ll live,” he said as he opened a drawer and pulled out a box of Band-Aids. I hissed in pain as he covered my palm with the largest bandage in the box. “Don’t be a baby,” he said as he looked up at me through his dark hair and smiled. I was pretty sure it was the first real smile he’d ever given me since now he suddenly had the sweetest set of dimples that went with his smile. He smoothed the pink Disney Princess Band-Aid over the top. I pulled my hand to my chest when he released it. Having him touch me was never a good thing since every time he did, I practically forgot who I was. “So what about that food?” I asked to change the subject. “Don’t worry. I’ll feed you,” he said as he threw the bloody towel in the trash. I couldn’t help myself. My brain went south, and all I could think about was being on my knees in front of Sin and … I bet he was definitely more than a mouthful. Actually, I’d felt him through our clothes, and I was positive he was more than a mouthful. I giggled to myself, earning a cocked brow from Sin. If only he knew what I was thinking.



AFTER EATING ENTIRELY too much Chinese, per Princess Emily’s request, I lay in bed watching reruns and observing her sleep. Things were chaotic. All of my original plans to ruin her father were going to the back burner and I was getting too wound up in her. She was a lot to handle, and as much I complained, she took my mind off Chelsea’s passing. Before Emily, I thought about Chelsea constantly, always trying to drown away my pain, but since the moment I wrapped those black stockings over her eyes and whisked her away to my place, I’d been able to think about other things. I’d even started to eat more. Not to mention, I hadn’t even turned on the TV since moving into the apartment, and now I was watching sitcoms and laughing quietly to myself. Things were taking a turn, and I wasn’t sure I was okay with that. Actually, I was sure I wasn’t okay with it. It felt wrong to laugh. It felt wrong to have sexual thoughts about Emily. I needed to focus on my hate, and I needed to continue with my plan of revenge. Chelsea deserved justice, and I was going to make sure she got it. Emily turned quickly onto her side and wrapped her arms around my waist. My body went tense. I didn’t like her touching me. When she did, I couldn’t think clearly, and thinking clearly was my top priority. I picked up her limp hand and placed it beside her. She let out a tiny whimper that made my chest tighten. Reaching out, I pushed back the hair that was covering her face and ran my rough finger over her soft cheek. She really was a beautiful woman. It didn’t help that she had a good heart, too. I’d

been giving her hell since we met and she gave it right back, but when we weren’t at each other’s throats, she was so sweet—good to the core. It was really sad that such a nice girl came from such an evil fucker—a killer who didn’t deserve such goodness in his life. Picking up the remote, I turned off the TV and turned on my side, facing away from Emily. Having her in my bed, sleeping soundly next to me, was different. I can’t say I hated it. The next morning, I woke to the smell of bacon and eggs. I didn’t freak out since I knew I’d locked the door and put the key in a special place, but I couldn’t remember having bacon or eggs in my refrigerator, which was weird. Rolling onto my stomach, I crawled out of bed and went to the bathroom to take a piss. By the time I opened the bathroom door, I could also smell cinnamon. My stomach growled its approval loudly. Padding through the apartment on bare feet, I stepped into the kitchen area and was met with Emily’s back. She stood at the stove cooking swaying her hips back and forth to a song in her head. I couldn’t help but get excited every time I was able to see a tiny hint of hip. She looked amazing in my clothes and even better in one of my football jerseys. I was managing some major morning wood as it was, so the last thing I needed was to wake up to her looking all sexy, wrapped in my team’s colors and cooking bacon. It was so right and so wrong on so many levels. I cleared my throat to let her know I was there, and she swung around with a spatula in her hand and a sweet smile on her face. “Good morning, lunatic. Your stomach was growling in your sleep, so I thought you could use some breakfast.” Her smile started mischievous before turning sweet. She turned off the stove and scooped a heaping of scrambled eggs and bacon onto a plate. When she bent to open the oven, her shirt rode up on her hips and revealed her lacecovered ass and center. I growled and threw myself into a chair at the kitchen table. Turning with a pan of cinnamon rolls, she looked at me as if I was crazy. “Is it bad that I cooked? You had all this in the refrigerator, and I was hungry, too.” She started to ice the cinnamon buns and hum to herself. I’d forgotten all about the food that Constance brought over when she took out all my beer and liquor. “It’s fine. It smells good,” I rasped as I ran my hands through my wild bed head. “Wait a minute. Was that a compliment, Mr. Sin?” She smiled at me over her shoulder. “I’d hate to think you’re getting soft when it comes to me. You’ve spent all this time convincing me you were a bad guy.” “I can assure you, Red, when it comes to you, there’s nothing about me that’s soft.”

I saw a pretty pink blush rush up the back of her neck, and I knew right away she caught my meaning. Flirting with my hostage … I was definitely going fucking nuts. We ate in silence, and it was as good as it smelled. I sat and finished my orange juice as she went and took a shower. I used the time to figure out what the hell I was going to do. The situation, as much as I hated to admit it, was slowly turning out of my favor. I needed to get things back on track. “We need to talk,” she said sternly when she came out of the bathroom. She was running her fingers through her wet hair and her tank top stuck to the parts of her breasts and stomach that she didn’t dry well enough. It was hell—sexy, lustful, makeme-want-to-jerk-off hell. “Then talk,” I said. “Sin, you can’t keep me here. I have a job to get back to and patients who depend on me. I know you have a lot going on in that head of yours, but I assure you, my father isn’t a murderer.” She sat at the table in front of me and reached out for my hand. I pulled back. “I know you’re grieving, and everyone grieves differently, but what you’re doing is wrong. You’re misplacing your anger and hurt onto my father … and onto me, too.” I’d heard all I could. I stood quickly, my chair scraping across the floor and smacking into the wall behind me. “Listen, Doc, with all due respect, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I’m trying very hard right now to contain my anger, so I’m going to walk away.” “Sin, please just listen …” She started to talk, but I held up my hand and walked away. I wasn’t about to let her get me all fired up again. She was damn good at that. I was halfway across the room when she spoke again. “Okay, I call a truce. But is there any way we could go outside today. The walls are starting to close in on me. You’ve kept me locked in here for three days. Please, Sin.” Desperation struck her voice. I remembered being mentally stuck in my apartment. I remembered not leaving for days and being trapped in a drunken stupor. It was hell, and as much as I wanted payback for what her father did, I could understand how easily the walls could close in on you. Just thinking about it took my breath away. I sighed loudly, as if she were annoying me, and then nodded in agreement. “Let me get a shower, and maybe we’ll go for a walk. If you pull any shit while we’re out, though, I’ll take it out on your father. Got it?” “Yes,” she said softly. I was closing the bathroom door when I heard her whisper, “Thank you.” An hour later, we were walking through a nearby park. Most of the time, I was

stressing that she’d call out for help or take off running. Honestly, I wasn’t in the mood for any of her shit. After walking around for an hour, I was ready to get back to the apartment. “Let’s head back,” I said as I reached out for her arm. As soon as we turned, we were face to face with a girl that looked familiar. “Emily Gelding! What the fuck? I’ve been calling you for days and nothing.” Her eyes switched from Emily to me. “Oh, I see what’s going on.” She smirked. Then I remembered the girl’s face. The night that Emily walked up to me and kissed me, she was with her. My heart rushed into my throat. I’d threatened that if she did anything, I’d take it out on her father, but could Emily resist with her friend so close. I looked over at Emily and she was looking back at me. Her expression was apologetic, and I knew for sure she was going to squeal, but she surprised me. “Nicole, this is my friend, Sin. Sin, this is Nicole,” she said with a half-smile. Nicole looked me up and down in appreciation, and it made my stomach turn. “Sin, huh? What a unique name.” She reached out and smacked playfully at Emily’s shoulder. “Looks like Truth or Dare worked out for you, Em. Sin, please make sure she doesn’t disappear completely. I know all about new loves and all that, but she needs to remember she still has friends.” Truth or Dare? Emily stiffened next to me, prompting me to put my arm around her shoulders. “Don’t you worry, Nicole. I’ll make sure you see plenty of Emily.” My face hurt when I smiled. I didn’t breathe again until the girls said their good-byes and we were back to my building. The whole going for a walk thing was bad for my blood pressure. “Thanks for that,” Emily said as I shut the door and locked it. “Everyone needs fresh air,” I said as I walked away. “What’s your real name?” she asked from behind me. I knew there would be a point when she’d ask, but it wasn’t as if I was going to give her that information. If by some chance she got away before my plans were complete, she’d be able to go straight to the cops and tell them. “That’s not important. My name’s Sin to you. Okay?” I pulled off my hoodie and threw it on the couch. Going into the kitchen, I pulled open the refrigerator and popped open a beer. “Fine. Can I ask you something?” I took a heavy swig. “What’s with all the questions? How about I ask a question?”

She looked at me with wide eyes. “Sure. Ask whatever you want.” “Your friend said something about Truth or Dare. What was she talking about?” Her face had turned three shades of red before she spoke. “It’s a really long, stupid story.” She waved away my question. “Good thing I have nothing but time,” I said as I took another swig. She looked up at me with wounded eyes and then looked away. “I just needed to do something fun. You’ve teased me enough about Ethan. It’s not some great mystery that he’s not the most exciting man in the world. Honestly, I don’t even know why we’re together. You were right. He doesn’t love me any more than I love him.” She shrugged, and it hurt my chest when I saw her eyes glaze over. “Anyway, I decided to be reckless with Nicole. We were out having drinks, and she dared me to kiss the next person who walked in the door. The next person just happened to be you. So as you can see, being reckless can get you kidnapped and held hostage. I’ll never be reckless again.” She sarcastically laughed. “You’re wrong,” I said. She looked up at me in confusion. “I told you why I did this. Don’t blame yourself. Blame your father.” I was tired of talking. I stood up and walked away.



I WAS GETTING NOWHERE when it came to Sin. Every time I attempted to get close to him or question him, all it did was piss him off. He was going to be a hard nut to crack, but I knew I could do it. When I’d asked for some time outside, I had no idea he’d go for it. That alone proved he wasn’t the evil person he pretended to be. After we had talked for five minutes, he left the room and left me alone for the rest of the night. Even though I knew it was locked, I tried the door once. A few hours later, I was falling asleep on the old plaid couch. I would have rather cleaned his nasty apartment again than go to his room to get in the bed, so I slipped off my flats, pulled my feet up onto the couch, and fell asleep in the fetal position. My toes were cold and the couch springs dug into my side, but it would have to do. It wasn’t as if I had much of a choice. I don’t know how long I slept, but at some point during the night, I was taken into a pair of warm arms, placed on the bed, and covered with a thick blanket. Not once did I open my eyes, and when the warmth soaked into my pores, I fell right back to sleep. The next morning, I woke in Sin’s empty bed. Wrapping the warm blanket around my shoulders, I walked into the living room to find Sin on the uncomfortable couch, wrapped in a sheet. I removed the blanket from my shoulders and covered him before going into the kitchen to cook some breakfast.

I didn’t have to do it, but I really needed to get on his good side. Food seemed to do the trick when it came to him. I was almost done with breakfast when he woke. Stretching with his arms above his head, I was able to see his bare chest completely. His shoulders were thick, and so was his chest. His abdominal muscles rippled as he turned at the waist to stretch his back. “Like what you see?” he asked with a smile. I quickly averted my eyes as he walked by to go to the bathroom. I scrapped the semi-burned eggs onto two plates, threw some bacon on there, and fixed us both a glass of orange juice. I sat at the table and started in on my food. When Sin came out of the bathroom, he went straight to the refrigerator. Pulling out a bottle of vodka, he unscrewed the top and held the bottle above his glass of orange juice. I reached out and stopped him from pouring it. “Would you please just eat breakfast with me? No alcohol—just us and the food.” I thought for sure he’d say something super sarcastic, pour the entire bottle into his glass, and suck it down just for spite, but he didn’t. He nodded once, screwed the lid back on, and sat down to eat. It wasn’t a lot, but little by little, I was making an impact. Even if it was just a tiny bit, I was helping, and that made me feel a billion times better. We spent the day watching reruns, and once, I even heard him laugh a little. He had a nice laugh when he wasn’t being a sarcastic prick. I couldn’t help but smile. Grabbing the remote, I turned off the TV and turned toward him on the couch. “So let’s talk,” I said with a smile. Running his hands down his face, he sighed loudly. “Oh God, not this shit again.” “Come on. It could be fun. Let’s play a game. It’s called ask-tell. I’ll ask you a question or tell you something about myself, and then you do the same to me.” I was running out of time. I could tell every day that he was thinking harder and harder about his big plan. I needed to get in his head sooner rather than later. “That sounds like hell,” he said bluntly. I kept talking. “Okay, I’ll go first. My full name is Emily Gelding, and I work as a grief counselor at Creekside Medical. Okay, now you.” He looked at me like he was bored out of his mind. “Okay. My name’s Sin, and the color red gets me hot,” he said with a smirk. I reached out and playfully smacked his arm. “I’m being serious, Sin. Tell me something real.”

“Seriously, Red. This is stupid.” I playfully stuck out my bottom lip and tilted my head. “Please. You are holding me hostage, you know? The least you could do is play a game with me.” He chuckled to himself, earning himself another smile from me. “Fine. I want to go to Paris one day.” He took a swig from his beer. “Okay, that’s good. Why Paris?” I asked. He leaned his head back on the headrest of the couch and closed his eyes like he was in pain. “Because of Chelsea,” he said with a frown. “Tell me about Chelsea.” I felt him tense against me, and I put my hand on his chest before he could turn into evil Sin. “Please. I just want to know more about her.” “Why?” “Because she’s important to you.” “I told you not to patient me, Doc.” I rolled my eyes. “Give it a rest already, Sin. Unlike you, I have no master plan. The least you could do is tell me about your daughter since you think you need to avenge her death.” “I don’t think I need to do it. I have to do it. I won’t let that bastard kill anyone else.” This was not going the way it was supposed to, and I felt a spark of anger at his words. “My father didn’t kill anyone,” I said tightly. He turned toward me. “And what if he did, Red? What will you tell yourself then?” “If I’m wrong, I’ll deal with it. Now, will you tell me about your daughter?” He sighed but asked, “What do you want to know?” “What’s your favorite memory of her?” He took a deep breath as if the air were courage and he needed as much of it as he could handle. “She loved fairy tales. She lived off them, and while she was in the hospital, they reminded her there was still beauty in life. Even if it was make-believe.” “That’s sweet. What about Paris?” I asked with a smile, and he smiled a little back at me. “Paris.” His smile grew larger when he said the word. “Princesses were her favorite, and before she died, she used to talk about going to Sleeping Beauty’s tower in Paris. She said something about meeting her Prince Charming there. I didn’t know what she was talking about. Sometimes, when she was on her medicine, she’d get kind of loopy and talk craziness. Then one day, we were watching TV in her hospital bed and she starting

pointing and saying, ‘Look, Daddy, it’s my tower!’ She was pointing at the Eiffel Tower.” He put his head down and took another breath. I could tell it was killing him to talk about Chelsea, but I also knew it was good for him. “She said she wanted to go at night when it was all lit up to wait for her Prince Charming to sweep her off her feet. He’d tell her something really sweet and then they’d shake hands.” I gave him a puzzled look and he smiled. “They didn’t kiss when I told the stories.” I giggled. “Gotcha. Continue.” “That’s it. And then they’d live happily ever after.” Sadness moved across his face. He looked at me with a serious expression. “I never got to take her. So one day, I’m going to go.” I felt a tear streak down my face, and I quickly wiped it away before he could see it. His words broke my heart, and for the first time, I got an idea of how badly he was really hurting. As a grief counselor, I should have known. I should have seen the symptoms, but I was too wrapped up in what was happening to me to do what I promised I’d always do: put the patient first. “I hope you make it there one day … for Chelsea.” I reached out for his hand, and for the first time, he didn’t pull away. “Me too.” He turned away and took another drink from his beer. “Your turn.” We spent an hour asking and telling. I was careful not to ask things that I knew would send him over the edge, and I made sure everything I told him was something that would make him smile. I was slowly starting to understand him. “Tell me about Chelsea’s mother.” His hands made fists on his knees, and I waited, giving himself time to answer me. “Her name was Victoria.” “Were you married?” “Yes, we were high school sweethearts.” “Were you in love with her?” “Not the way she deserved, but I did love her. Victoria didn’t get along with her parents at all. She was a wild child, and they were hell-bent on breaking her spirit. They just wanted to control her and there was no controlling Victoria.” He smiled to himself, and I wondered what he was remembering. “Victoria asked me to run away with her three days after we graduated. She’d had a big fight with her parents. They wanted to send her somewhere, but she wouldn’t tell me where. I’d been friends with her, in love with her, and then … I didn’t know.” His voice broke and I frowned in confusion, but he was talking again. “I’d never seen her so upset

before. Her parents were getting to her, and I couldn’t bear to see her that way, so I said yes. My parents were dead. It was just Constance, me, and our aunt, so I said yes. “I didn’t have much money or much of anything, really. I packed it up, took every penny I’d been saving from two summers of doing odd jobs, and took off into the night.” “Sounds like an adventure,” I said softly. “Everything with Victoria was an adventure. We got married in this cheesy chapel in Las Vegas. Elvis was there.” He smirked. I smiled. “Elvis is everywhere in Vegas.” I rested my arm on the couch and leaned my head on my hand. “Even though I wasn’t in love with Victoria, I didn’t regret leaving with her that night. We both worked shitty jobs and rented this tiny-ass apartment that always smelled like corned beef because it was above a meat deli. A year after we were married, Victoria told me she was pregnant. I didn’t know how I felt, and I walked around in a confused daze for weeks. She thought I was upset about the baby, and maybe I was… but then I was standing in that doctor’s office, feeling like I could climb the walls just to get out of there, and then I heard the most amazing sound in the world … Chelsea’s heartbeat. “It was the most beautiful sound in the world, and I wanted to listen to it every day. At that moment, I became hers, always. She had me wrapped around her little finger, and she wasn’t even here yet. I’ll never forget the night she was born. I listened to her heart beat so strongly on that contraption they had strapped to Victoria. She was so excited and she made absolutely no sense because she was jacked up on pain meds. “She kept thanking me for giving her Chelsea. For giving her a life she couldn’t be happier with.” His jaw locked suddenly and his mood shifted. “She was saying goodbye.” “Why goodbye?” I whispered. “What Victoria hadn’t told me was that she suffered from a heart condition. She shouldn’t have ever gotten pregnant because of it, but Victoria wanted a piece of her to continue in the world when she was gone. I didn’t understand why the doctors and nurses were so concerned or why they gave me looks like I was somehow to blame for something. Victoria’s heart rate dropped dangerously low while she was giving birth, and hours after Chelsea was born, she told me why. I was so furious at her for keeping it from me. All those years … everything I’d done for her … she couldn’t trust me enough to tell me she was dying. “A few days later, Chelsea was diagnosed with the same condition. A week after Chelsea was born, Victoria still wasn’t strong enough to leave the hospital and she spent the next week holding our daughter and telling her everything she could about her and our life together. The next week, Victoria passed away, and I left the hospital with a baby girl I had no idea how to take care of on my own. “I went back to live with Constance and our aunt, and they helped me take care of Chelsea while I worked to give her everything she needed to be healthy. It wasn’t until a year and a half ago when things started to take a turn for the worse and we learned her

condition had evolved into something her tiny body just couldn’t handle. “Every day spent in the hospital, I listened to the sound of my baby girl’s heart. It was still the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard, and when she passed, it was the last thing I heard. There are times when I thank Victoria for bringing Chelsea into my life and then there are times when I hate her for giving me this beautiful, amazing little girl only to have her taken from me before I was ready.” “I’m so sorry, Sin. That’s terrible.” He didn’t respond. Instead, he stood from the couch and walked away. I didn’t push. He’d revealed enough, and I knew he needed to let it all soak back in and get some rest. Later that night, when he thought I wasn’t looking, I watched as he took some food out for two stray cats. I stood in the doorway, careful not to get caught, and listened to him coo and play with the cats before coming back in. It was the cutest thing to see a large man like Sin being so nice to two little cats. It was unexpected, and if I was being totally honest with myself, I was starting to like the new side of Sin I was seeing. Then again, I’d liked him from the start, which was sick even in my own mind, but I could see right through him the more and more he talked. Instead of wanting to get away from him, I wanted to be closer. But I knew it was only a matter of time before Ethan talked to my father, and my father starting asking about me. He had a key to my apartment. Whenever he got back into town that would be the first place he would go. Sin passed out on the couch and slumped over into my lap. I let him lie there while I watched TV, and every now and again, I let my fingers get lost in his dark hair. I’d close my eyes when he’d whisper something in his sleep and rub his cheek against my thigh like he was the most comfortable he’d been in years. It was such a sweet moment, but it got even sweeter when I heard him quietly whisper my name.



I WOKE UP WITH my head in Emily’s lap and her fingers in my hair. She was asleep and her hand wasn’t moving, but I could remember waking up earlier and feeling her softly tousle my hair. It was something my mom used to do when I was a small boy, and I couldn’t lie and say I hated it. She was breaking through slowly, and I knew I had to put a stop to it. I leaned back up on the couch and her head rolled to the side. She was sleeping so peacefully, with her pouty lips opened slightly. Everything about her invoked peace. Even when I wanted to explode everywhere, something about her made me calm down just a bit. I reached up and pushed a dark strand of hair from her face and took in her flushed cheeks. If I left her as she was, her neck would hurt the next morning. I knew I shouldn’t have cared, but I did. Lifting her from the couch as I had the night before, I turned off the TV and the lights and took her to my room. She snuggled her nose into my neck, making the hairs on my arms rise. And right before I laid her on my bed, she softly whispered my name. That night, when she wrapped her arms around my waist, I didn’t move them. It felt good to fall asleep in someone’s arms. I hadn’t done it since before Chelsea’s mom died, and as I fell asleep, I knew in the back of my mind that it was something I needed. I woke the next morning to the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen, and this time, I didn’t bother taking out the liquor. Emily asked me not to drink during breakfast, and since she cooked, it was the least I could do.

We spent most of the day doing laundry since she swore my sheets needed to be washed. While I was loading the washer, she cleaned the bathroom. The smells of cleaning supplies filled my apartment, and when we were done, the place actually looked livable. If only Constance could see it. That night, I made dinner while she folded clothes and made the bed. She was showered and smelling sweet by the time dinner was ready. Instead of eating in silence, we talked. Not about me, of course, but I found that I really liked getting to know Emily. Every once in a while, I’d give in and answer one of her questions, but nothing that gave too much away. I knew I was stalling. I was stalling my master plan just so I could be with Emily a little longer. I was fucked. “Sin?” she called my name before I turned off the TV and went to sleep. “Yeah?” “Truth or Dare?” she said with a tiny smile. I didn’t even think about it. “Dare.” She leaned up on her shoulder and looked me in the eyes. “I dare you to kiss the first girl you see.” She wanted me to kiss her. It wasn’t smart. As a matter of fact, it was probably one of the most stupid things I could have done, but that didn’t stop me. I leaned in and tucked her hair behind her ear. In a moment of weakness, I let my fingers explore her soft cheek before I leaned in and softly pressed my lips to hers. The following day, our little bubble of peace got busted. When I woke, Emily was in the bathroom. When she came out, she was fully dressed with her shoes on. I leaned up on my elbows and squinted since the sun was blazing in through the curtains. “What are you doing?” I asked roughly. “I have to go, Sin. This has to stop. I have to go back to work in two days. People are going to know something’s up if I don’t show. You’re a nice guy. I don’t want you to get in trouble. Let me go and I’ll forget about this. I won’t tell anyone, which means I won’t press any charges or anything. I promise.” Her words rang through my brain and bounced around. Something in my chest tightened and I felt sick to my stomach. I wasn’t sure what pissed me off more—the fact that she thought she could just walk away from me, or the fact that it hurt like hell that she wanted to. I shouldn’t have slipped. I was getting too comfortable with Emily and I’d forgotten the reason behind everything. That was what she did to me. She’d swooped in and rocked me—woke me up from death and made me smile. I hated her for that. I hated that she had the ability to do that to me when all I really wanted to do was wallow in my misery and get my revenge.

“Your mistake,” I said as I stood and went into the bathroom. She attempted to come in, but I slammed the door in her face. I didn’t give a fuck if I was being rude. I hated that it hurt, but I wouldn’t let her know that. Fuck! Why was she able to hurt me? She tapped on the door. “Sin. Can we please talk?” I didn’t respond. I took a piss and when I was washing my hands, she walked right in. “What the fuck?” I said as I turned around and dried my hands. “Damn, Red, if you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask.” Her face dropped. “Don’t do that.” “Don’t do what?” I asked like I didn’t know what she was talking about. “Don’t use sex to change the subject.” “Whatever. Look, you’re not going anywhere. You might as well get used to being here because until I get what I want, you’re not going anywhere.” “What do you want?” She threw her arms in the air in aggravation. We stood there in the middle of the bathroom, staring each other down. I wanted a lot of things, especially things involving her, but I had to put all that aside and remember what was most important. “I want revenge.” Hurt flashed in her eyes before she stepped up to me and put her arms around me. I knew in the back of my mind that I should have pushed her away, but it felt so nice to be held. The alluring scent of her hovered around me, creeping into my senses and filling my blood with sparks of fire. It had been so long since I’d been close to a woman. My body was going into overdrive—greedy for her touch—begging for her depths. It was a reminder of all the things I’d missed over the last six years. She pressed against me, the contours of her perky breasts visible through her silk top. I pulled her closer and locked my arms behind her back. Her thick, russet hair stuck to my sweat-covered cheeks, and instinctively I breathed in the brief hint of her strawberry shampoo. She smelled amazing—edible—like one of those fruit arrangements people had delivered to your home. I’d never personally received one, but it didn’t matter. I wanted to cover her flesh in chocolate and feast on her. My cock sprang to life, hardening against her stomach and throbbing with need. She was making me forget the reason I was there with her in the first place. Again, she moved and I pulled her closer, lining her body against mine and allowing my hard cock to dig into her stomach.

I wasn’t going to let her go. I was finally going to get what I wanted. Her sharp teeth cut into my bicep and I hissed loudly at the sting puncturing my skin. I tugged on her ponytail and she released my flesh. Bringing her face to face with me, I grinned down at her. She was as good as mine. Trapped. There was no escaping me. “What are you going to do?” she asked. Her voice was thick and husky—that of a passionate woman in the midst of release. She swallowed hard and her throat worked up and down, taunting me. I pressed my nose to her neck and breathed her in once more. It was going to be a long while before I was this close to a woman again. Her femininity moved me beyond distraction. Her lust-filled expression promised everything my body craved, but I had to stay the course. Looking down into her fevered eyes, I took a deep breath. “What do you think I’m going to do?” I reached down and grabbed her ass cheeks, pulling her into my stiff, throbbing dick. “A life for a life. It’s only fair. She was taken from me, so now, I’m taking you from him.”



I PULLED AWAY FROM him. His words had cut deep, deeper than I should have ever allowed them. I thought I was getting somewhere with Sin. I thought he was possibly starting to care about me because I knew I was starting to care about him. My hurt turned into something angry, and I suddenly understood why Sin always seemed so mad all the time. He was hurt, and it was his way of feeling better. I understood because all I wanted to do at that moment was slap him. I wanted him to hurt the way I was hurting, and that made me feel selfish, which only made me madder. “This isn’t you,” I said clearly. “You obviously don’t know me very well,” he responded. “You’re wrong. I think I know you better than anyone has in a long time. I also think that pisses you off.” I was standing my ground. “Whatever you say. I know differently.” He turned away. I knew I shouldn’t mention her, but I couldn’t stop my mouth from moving. “Chelsea would hate this. She would hate you being this way.” Fire lit up his face and I watched him change right in front of me. Two steps forward and ten steps back when it came to Sin. Why couldn’t I just keep my fat trap shut? “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, and you don’t know who the fuck I am!” he said as he pounded his fist on the wall next to my head. I could remember being afraid of Sin when he first took me. His wide build and tall frame were very overwhelming for a small woman like me, but I figured out quick that he

was all bark and no bite. I used to secretly wish he was a biter. At night, I’d lie in bed and imagine Sin nibbling on the sensitive parts of me. My nipples would press into my bra with just the thoughts of what his large hands could do to them. It was wrong to think those things. While sexual thoughts of Sin helped me make it through the night, they were wrong. It was a breach of the doctor-patient relationship. I turned to the right and took in his large fist and the thick muscles of his forearm. He was all power and heat. Swallowing a sigh, I looked him in his eyes. “I don’t need to know who you are to know this isn’t you. You’re not a cruel person, Sin. I don’t care what you say to me; you’ll never convince me otherwise.” I gasped when he rushed me. His body pressed me against the cold tile wall, causing me to arch away from the chill. His heart thumped against my shoulder and excitement filled me. It was sick. I was demented and I knew that. He was my kidnapper—a sick man with mental issues. He needed my help, and all I could think about was how hard he felt against me, how he towered over me and made me feel small. I liked it. It was nice to have someone take the power away from me. I was so used to being in charge of everything, and I was exhausted. I tried to control my quickening breaths, but exhilaration rushed through my veins, making the hair on my arms stand on end. Leaning his forehead against mine, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I’m not good. If you knew the things that were going through my mind right now, you’d know that.” Against my will, my fingers tangled themselves in his hair. His soft curls wrapped around my fingers and tickled my knuckles. His tense body relaxed into me, and it made me feel good to give him that brief moment. “Tell me, Sin. Tell me everything you’re thinking,” I whispered between us. He put his head down as if he was ashamed of himself. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said as he looked up into my eyes. “I’m not the kind of man who would ever hurt a woman on purpose.” “Then don’t.” I let go of his hair and ran my fingers over the stubble on his cheek and chin. Everything about him was so manly, so dangerous. Like I was seconds away from crashing and burning when I was around him. Who knew? Maybe I was, but then again, maybe I wanted to crash and burn with Sin. “Let me help you. I want to help you,” I said the words slowly, hoping he wouldn’t attack me. Every time I’d tried to help, he would figure me out and turn my job against me, trying

his hardest to prove that I’d never dealt with anyone as sick as him. I had, and I knew I could handle him. “Don’t try to psychoanalyze me, Doc. Once you get in my head, you may never get out.” His mouth was inches from mine, and I wanted nothing more than to feel his hot lips and soft tongue. “Maybe I don’t want to get out. Maybe I like being in your head,” I whispered. “Is that so? Well, maybe I’d like to be in you, too.” I didn’t have time to respond before his lips came crashing down onto mine. His tongue swept into my mouth, flicking mine and pulling tiny noises from me that gave him my approval. Cupping my ass with his large hands, he lifted me. I wasted no time wrapping my legs around him as he walked us out of the bathroom and to his bed. I bounced on the mattress when he dropped me. His dark eyes took in my body, and I stretched, enjoying the way he looked at me. “You’re so fucking sexy. Tell me you want me to touch you, Emily. Beg me to touch you.” He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the floor. “I said I wouldn’t beg.” “Please beg me,” he said. His voice caught with desperation. He was so hard that a tent had formed in the front of his pants. I wanted to scoot to the edge of the bed, pull his pants down, and suck the tip of him until he came all over me. “Now, who’s begging?” I taunted him. He responded by unbuttoning my pants and pulling them off me in one swift move. He growled before lowering himself over me and pressing his hips into mine. His hard tip pressed against the most sensitive parts of me, making me moan loudly without realizing. With his arms planted on each side of my head, holding him up, he looked down at me. “Beg me, Emily. I need to hear you beg for me, baby.” Again, he pressed himself into me, causing my wet panties to stick to my skin. Every part of me wanted to beg him. “I … I can’t. What would that say about me?” I said breathlessly as he picked up a rhythm and continuously pressed himself into me. Clothes. I fucking hated clothes. I wanted him inside of me so bad. He pulled back, giving me a chance to look down between us at the front of his gray sweats. A dark circle of wetness covered the tip of the tent in his pants. I couldn’t tell if it was wetness from him or me, but I liked it. “It says you want me as badly as I want you.” Again, he pressed as he leaned to the side and took my earlobe in his teeth.

“You want me?” He stopped and looked down at me in confusion. “Do you seriously have to ask?” he asked as he pushed my panties to the side and let the sweats-covered head of his cock push a tiny bit inside me. That was all it took. I latched onto his back and pulled him closer to me. “Please, Sin. Please, I want you.” A boyish smile covered his face, and I instantly felt good for making him smile with happiness. “Say it again. Beg me again,” he said as he pushed his tip in again. Digging my heels and the back of my head into his bed, I moaned loudly. “Please. I want to feel you deep inside me. Please.” Everything moved quickly as I leaned up and allowed him to take off my shirt. Dipping his head down, he took in my nipple and softly bit down. A growl escaped my lips as I pulled his mouth closer to my skin. “Do you like that?” he asked as he flicked at my nipple with his tongue. “Why don’t we see what else you like?” He worked his way down my body. Sucking and nibbling on the soft skin beneath my breasts before running his teeth and tongue across my ribs. I wanted to giggle when he began to caress my sides with his lips, but before I could, he was sucking the skin above my panty line and using his teeth to pull the lace down my thighs and over my knees. My breath came out in panted moans until I thought I would scream from the pleasure of everything he was doing. When he came up, he used easy fingers to open me and wrapped his lips around the sensitive knot of nerves at my center. A sound I’d never made rushed out my mouth. Animalistic. Full of lust and need. I pushed my fingers through his hair and tried to keep my hips still as he continuously sucked me into a frenzied rush of heat. I needed more, and he seemed to sense that as he slowly pushed two thick fingers into me and began to work them in and out and up and down. “You’re always so wet for me. Does anyone else get you this wet?” His voice was husky and deep. He was turned on just as much as I was. “No. No one. Just you.” My words came out choppy and quick. My breathing was becoming embarrassing, but he didn’t seem to notice. He continued to use his fingers and tongue on me until I could no longer keep my hips on the bed. Words I’d never used before spilled from my mouth and I didn’t care. I was so close to something magnificent that I’d lost all sense of everything around me. All that mattered was my center, which was moving closer and closer to dissolving into greatness.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, everything stopped. I didn’t have time to complain before he was hovering over me, a look of complete lust on his face. “What do you want, Emily? Just ask and I’ll give it to you.” I should’ve asked to be released. I should’ve asked him to forget about his crazy vendetta against my father, but instead, words I’d never said to another human being rushed from my lips. “Make love to me, Sin.” Reaching down, he pushed his sweats down his hips. When he was done, he looked down at me as if waiting for my approval once more. Reaching up, I cupped his cheeks and brought his lips to mine for a kiss as he slowly entered me. My body stretched to accommodate his size and while it should have hurt, I felt amazing. Pleasure washed over his face, leaving an expression I’d never seen him display before. He looked down at me with wide, trusting eyes, and another part of my heart opened for him. He started out slow, rocking his body into mine over and over again, but once I started making noises with each of his movements, he sped up. The sounds of our bodies coming together and our breathy moans filled the room. When things were moving quickly, he pulled out and flipped me onto my stomach. Grabbing my hips, he pulled my ass up to meet him and slammed his body into mine once again. Catching me off guard, he smacked my ass cheek before grabbing a handful and squeezing. I’d never been spanked before. I didn’t even want to think about what Ethan would have said if I had asked him to, but Sin was a spanker. He called out in pleasure when he spanked me again. His large palm rubbed out the sting before he squeezed it again. “Does that feel good, baby?” he asked. He sped up again, making my response come out in the form of a loud moan. “Tell me my cock feels good, Emily,” he said in a strained voice. I felt like I was about to explode. He was quickly pushing me over the edge, and I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. My arms collapsed beneath me, forcing the side of my face into the mattress, but he didn’t stop. If anything, he moved harder and faster. “Tell me,” he growled. “It. Feels. So. Good.” He rewarded me with another quick spank on the ass and it almost sent me over the edge. “Don’t stop, Sin. I’m almost there.” Again, he flipped me back onto my back and lifted my legs up on his shoulders. “I want to see your face when you come for me,” he said before he took me again with full force. He didn’t hold back as he moved his body with strength and speed. Tiny droplets of

sweat dripped from his face and onto my chest. He panted and clenched his eyes closed, letting me know it felt just as good for him as it did for me. And then he shifted his hips and pushed me over. My body lit up like it had a life of its own. Words spilled from my lips, egging him on to move faster and harder. I wrapped my legs around his neck and pulled his hips to me as I released my all for him. The wet smacking noises of our two bodies coming together got louder as he pulled my orgasm out of me. “That’s it, baby. Come all over my cock,” he ground out. His mouth gaped open as he continued to move and I could tell he was about to come. I latched onto his hips, ready for him to fill me, but instead, he pulled out, spouting all over my stomach as he called out my name.



I SLAMMED MY EYES shut when the sun pierced them. I felt myself falling back to sleep, but then reality came in. I overslept. I turned quickly to find the space next to me empty, and I panicked. I’d fallen asleep after the most amazing sex with Emily, and I’d done so without locking the door. I felt sick with the thought of her leaving. Not because I was worried that Emily had left and gone to the police, but because she wasn’t there. The thought of never seeing her again sickened me. I couldn’t afford to have feelings for her, but it seemed somewhere along the way I’d developed them. I jumped from the bed and got dressed. If she was gone, then that meant the police would be here soon and I had to get the hell out of my apartment with everything I could carry in my arms. I snatched my car keys, which I couldn’t believe were still on my dresser, and headed toward the front door. I stopped immediately when I heard Emily talking. Her voice echoed throughout my apartment, and a sense of relief like I’d never felt before filled me. That relief was instantly replaced when I heard Constance’s laughter follow. Shit! This wasn’t happening. My sister was not at the front door, having a conversation with the girl who I was holding hostage. I crept into the living room, careful not to be heard. “There you are. When were you going to tell me about this delightful creature, Jacksin?” Constance said as she patted Emily’s arm.

Shit! Fuck! Shit fuck damn! Emily now knew my real name and I couldn’t do anything about it. Emily turned with a knowing smile. “Yeah, Jacksin, why didn’t I know you had a sister? I think we’ve been seeing each other long enough that I should know that little tidbit of information.” I was confused. Seeing each other? What the fuck was she talking about? And then it hit me. Emily wasn’t pleading for Constance to help her. She wasn’t tossing me under the bus like she should have been. No. Instead, she was pretending that she and I were in some kind of relationship. Of course that would make sense to Constance, considering Emily’s state of dress. She was wearing one of my old band T-shirts. Luckily, it landed just above her knee because I happened to know she had nothing on underneath. Just like that, my cock grew and pressed into my zipper. As if things couldn’t get even more fucking awkward, now I had a raging hard-on in front of my sister. Quickly, I adjusted myself and went to sit on my couch. “We don’t really have time to talk, Constance. Emily needs to get dressed. I’m taking her to lunch. Remember, sweetie?” I replied. Whatever cleared the room. I needed Emily away from Constance and I needed Constance gone. Quickly. “Of course, babe. How could I forget?” Emily smiled before turning back to Constance. “It was great meeting you, Constance. Hopefully, we’ll see more of each other.” I froze when Emily walked toward me. I looked up at her with a warning in my eyes. She smirked as she leaned down and pressed her soft lips to mine. “I’m getting in the shower. Join me if you’d like,” she playfully whispered against my mouth. Damn her and her playfully sexy ways. Once Emily left the room, Constance shut the door behind her and came to sit beside me. “I have to tell you, Jax, it’s nice to see the smile in your eyes again. I don’t know where you met her, but she’s good for you. I like her.” I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Are you done?” I asked rudely. Constance knew me and my ways. She knew I was an asshole. She was probably the only person in the world who understood me. “I’m done, and I’m going. I wouldn’t want to ruin your plans with Emily,” she picked. “I’m calling you later. I want full details of how you guys met.” I waved her away and locked the door behind her. The shower water running in the

bathroom called to me. I knew what I’d find behind the bathroom door, and as badly as I wanted to go in there and sink myself into Emily, I knew I couldn’t. What we did was a mistake. I didn’t need her thinking there was more to it than there was. I was still after revenge. I had to stay the course—not only for me but also for Chelsea. My nerves kicked in when I heard the shower water cut off. I knew what I had to do and I already hated myself for it. When Emily walked into the living room looking all sweet and fresh, she came straight to me. Hooking an arm around my neck, she sat in my lap, prompting my hard-on to return. She hugged me tightly, but her arms loosened when I didn’t even bother putting my arms around her. “What’s wrong?” she asked, confused. I swallowed hard. My chest hurt just thinking about hurting her. “Emily, about last night …” “What about last night? It was amazing.” She smiled before leaning down and sweetly kissing the side of my neck. “Agreed, but it can’t happen again.” I was quick to get to the point. Her body tensed against mine before she leaned back to look me in the eye. “Why not?” I was an asshole. I was lower than low. I knew the one thing that I could say that would bring this entire conversation to a close, and since I was being a totally pussy when it came to Emily, I let the words slip from my mouth before I could stop myself. “Because that’s not why I have you here. You’re my hostage. Nothing’s changed. I know you might feel like we’ve gotten closer, but all last night was, was two people releasing some steam. We both feel better, and now, we can move on and deal with the matter at hand.” “What are you saying?” she asked, and her voice broke. “I’m saying I’m still going to destroy your father whether you open your sweet legs for me or not.” I could have said it nicer, but I was using the Band-Aid approach—rip it off fast and get it over with. Her eyes watered a little bit before she turned away. She didn’t want me to see how badly I’d hurt her, and I was glad. I was already kicking myself in the ass for all the wrong I’d done when it came to her. I couldn’t take her sad puppy-dog eyes filling with tears. It was like an uppercut to the gut. I expected her to say something—anything, but she didn’t. Instead, she climbed out of my lap, went back into the steam-filled bathroom, and shut the door quietly behind her. We didn’t speak for the rest of the day. Emily avoided me like the plague, and I

couldn’t really blame her. I was fucked up in the worst way. That was confirmed the second I slept with her and then let her know nothing had changed. I was still going to destroy her father whether she opened her sweet legs for me or not. Yeah, I believe that was exactly what I’d said to her. She took refuge in the bedroom, shutting me out and ignoring me until I thought I was going to go crazy. What had I expected? I was a jackass and I should have never forgotten that. Whether she liked it or not, she was going to see the bastard her father was. I was determined to show her how right I was. She deserved to know that the man she worshiped was a big piece of shit. I slipped on my hoodie and zipped it up as I stopped in front of my bedroom door. I didn’t expect much when I knocked on the door for the fourth time, but I was done being ignored and I was done staying cooped up in my small apartment. If I didn’t finish this, I was never going to, and that was not an option. “Emily,” I said firmly. “We’re going out. Get ready.” There was no answer. Not a sound was made as I listened with my ear against the door. Panic swept through me as I wiggled the door handle roughly. She’d locked it. I hit the door roughly with my shoulder and the door trembled but didn’t give way. I went at it again, harder this time, and I heard the cracking of weak wood. One more hit sent me through the door and into the foot of my bed, where Emily was not. The room was dark and my head snapped toward the bathroom and the light that snuck through the crack of the door. Walking over, I threw it open and it slammed into the wall, but Emily wasn’t there either. I was in full-blown hysterics as I walked back into the bedroom, and I wished I could say it was for the sole purpose that I wouldn’t get the revenge I thought I desperately needed. Moonlight cascaded on the bed and I noticed the open window for the first time. I was on the other side of the room in a second flat and looking out the window toward the street. The ladder was still intact. “Don’t think for a second I didn’t try it,” she whispered from beside me, and I turned to see her sitting on the rusty metal landing. “The stupid ladder is broken, and I wasn’t about to throw myself down three stories.” She didn’t look at me as she spoke. “No matter how much I want to get away from you.” “Yeah, break your damn neck because that would have really stuck it to me, Red.” “What do you want, Sin?” “We’re going out. Let’s go.” She finally looked over at me, frowning. “Out? Out where?”

“Does it matter? Get dressed.” I ducked back into the room and waited for her to climb back in. I wanted to help her, but she was likely to throw me out the window if given half the chance. I waited for her in the living room, and when she emerged, she was dressed. She eyed the broken door and stepped over the shards of wood on the floor without commenting on my moment of insanity. I could tell she wasn’t the same woman I had fucked senseless the night before, and I’d probably lost that side of her forever. “Let’s get this over with. Where are we going?” “To your father’s office. We’re going to break in.” Her head snapped up. “What? Why?” “I need Chelsea’s file and I’m positive the proof I need to expose your father for what he is, is in there. You’re going to help me find it.” She was shaking her head vehemently. “I am not breaking into my father’s office. I’m not committing a crime for you.” “You damn sure will if you want to forget you ever met me because the only way you’re getting rid of me is if you help me do this.” “Why can’t you just lock me in here and go yourself. My father didn’t do what you think he did, Sin. He wouldn’t have put your daughter’s life in danger for money. That’s not who he is.” “Prove me wrong, then, Red. If you’re so fucking sure your dad is the saint you think he is, then prove me wrong.” She chewed on her lip, not saying anything at first, and I knew she was going to agree. Despite everything I was trying to convince her of, she still believed he was innocent. “Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll go with you, but only because I know he’s not the monster you think he is. The only monster here is you, Sin, and the only thing you’ve managed to convince me of is that you’re a lost cause. When this is all over and done with, I’ll make sure you really know what hell is like. ” She walked toward the door and waited for me to join her. Her words struck a nerve and pulled an emotion I didn’t know I possessed anymore. Fear. Meeting her at the door, I stood behind her and her sweet scent messed with my ability to think clearly. I wanted to reach out and touch her, but I knew if I did that, all would be lost. It would be over and I would be over, so I brushed past her and pulled open the door.



TEN MINUTES LATER, we were in my car and driving toward her father’s office. Emily seemed so small as she sat as far away from me as she could. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and her head rested against the window. We drove in silence, and twenty minutes later, I was pulling into the dark, deserted parking lot of Doctors Richmond and Gelding. “How do you know no one is here?” she asked, breaking thirty minutes of silence. “It’s after midnight. No one in this office stays after midnight.” “How do you know that?” “I’ve done my research. Let’s go.” I pushed open my door and jogged to her side before she could get out and pulled open her door. “Who are you trying to fool?” she said dryly, shutting the door before I could. “The devil doesn’t pretend to be a gentleman.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly to me. It was one thing for me to think I was every bit the twisted fuck I was, but it was another for Emily to finally start agreeing with me. “Don’t get it twisted. I was only making sure you didn’t run off.” Pulling out a set of keys, I handed them to her and looked around the parking lot. “Open the door.”

She frowned at me and then looked down at the keys I was giving to her. She made a small noise and her eyes narrowed dangerously at me. “Where the hell did you get these?” “Where do you think? Now, open the fucking doors.” “Ugh.” She growled but took her eyes from my hands and found the one to open the door. The minute we stepped in, I pulled her toward the alarm system and pushed her forward. “Turn it off,” I demanded. “I don’t know the code.” “Don’t lie to me, Red. Turn it off.” “No. I don’t know why you thought I would.” She folded her arms. “If I were you, I’d think about running and getting a head start before the police show up.” “Nah, I think I’ll stay. After all, it’ll be my word against yours.” “You honestly think they will believe you over me?” I shrugged, playing it cool. I knew I had only a few more minutes before the alarm triggered, sending out a warning to the police. “Maybe, maybe not, but they might believe Ethan.” “What are you …?” She trailed off as she realized what I was saying. I talked fast. “He did see us together after all. You didn’t seem like you were being held against your will when I all but fucked you right in front of him. Do you remember his face when I put my hands on you? Do you remember how angry he was? I’m sure he’ll tell the police all about the declaration of excitement you wanted, don’t you? And then there’s Constance … What do you think they will think when she tells them everything you told her the morning she stopped by?” She didn’t respond, and she nearly shook with the rage flowing through her body. I leaned into her. “Shut off the alarm, Emily.” She wrestled with herself before she turned angrily and typed in the code. It beeped twice and the light turned green. I looked at my watch. Five seconds to spare. “Let’s go.” I took her arm, but she pulled it from me and turned on her heel, walking ahead of me. Despite everything that was going on and what she said, I found it fucking hot that she wasn’t giving me an inch. She might have given me all the control when it came down to having sex, but she held her own outside the bedroom. We took the stairs to the third floor and walked down the hall toward her father’s corner suite.

“Open it,” I said sternly. “Open it yourself.” She dropped the keys at my feet and turned away. The urge to make her pick them up was strong, but if I got her down on her knees in front of me, things would take a turn for the worst and fast. Bending over, I picked up the keys and shoved her out of the way. It took me eight tries, but I finally found the key, and with a loud click, I pushed open the door. None too gently, I pulled and pushed Emily into the office first and shut the door behind me. “Where does your father keep past patient files?” I looked back at her when she didn’t answer me. This was going to take all night if I let her continue to think she was calling the shots. I stalked toward her, pushing her against the wall with my body, and as angry as she was with me, I knew she was twice as angry with herself because she melted the instant my body touched hers. She pushed against my chest, but all she was accomplishing was tiring herself out. “Get the fuck away from me, Sin,” she growled, pushing harder. Her hips dug into mine as she pushed away with her back. Her fists burrowed into my chest, but I wasn’t moving. “We can do this the hard way, Emily, or we can do this the easy way. Either way, you’re helping me, even if I have to drag you around by your hair.” To make my point, my fingers combed through her hair and grabbed a fistful. It wasn’t enough to hurt her, but it was probably enough to turn her on. I was a little past that point as she continued to strain against me. “Try it and see what happens. I’m done taking orders from you. You can go fuck yourself,” she spat, staring up into my face. Her face was flushed and her breathing heavy. I knew she wanted to hate me, but I could see it in her eyes that she was turned on. I could feel it in the way her body trembled against mine. Not in anger, as she wanted me to believe, but in hot, uncontrolled passion. “I could, but why would I do that when you fuck me so much better.” I bit her earlobe and she gasped, pushing harder against me. She was going to fight as hard as she could to deny me, but that was only going to make this that much more fun. “No,” she hissed, “Don’t touch me.” “Should we make a deal again, Emily?” I lifted her shirt, pulling down the cup of her bra, and her breast spilled out. Her nipple was already rock hard and waiting for my mouth and tongue. I opened my mouth wide over the sweet pink tip. I sucked her deep and hard into my mouth, and she cried out, grabbing a fistful of my hair.

“I fucking love it when you get rough, Red. Let me feel those fucking nails.” She heard my words, and she was pushing at my shoulders again. “Stop it, Sin. I don’t want this. I don’t want you.” “You’re a fucking liar.” I sucked on her nipple again and she sagged against the wall. “Oh, God,” she moaned as I bit down on her and I knew she was past the point of no return. I pulled her shirt over her head and she didn’t fight me. I pulled down the straps of her bra, trapping her arms at her sides. Cupping them both in my hands, I pushed them together until I could take both her nipples into my mouth, sucking hard. She squirmed against me as small whimpers escaped her parted lips. I sucked and licked, using my teeth until she couldn’t stand on her own anymore. She was pulling at my shirt, and I let her pull it over my head before I unbuckled the snap of her jeans and pushed them down her legs. My mouth made a hot trail of kisses down her ribs and stomach, and I pulled her panties down her legs. I helped her step out and licked her, enjoying how wet she already was. I moved her, pushing her down on the large desk, and pushed her legs open. “Take it back, Emily,” I whispered raggedly. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.” “No,” she said angrily. “Say it, sweet girl. Tell me what you want,” I said as I pushed up against her. She moaned and gave in way faster than I thought she would. “Yes. Fuck me, Sin.” “Play with yourself. Show me how much you want it.” She didn’t waste any time moving her hands over her stomach and up, covering her breasts. She pulled at her nipples until her back arched off the desk and she moaned. She watched me with desire-filled eyes, and one of her hands moved down until her fingers found the swollen knot. Her hips lifted and she drew her fingertip over the sensitive tissue, and I almost came in my pants. I leaned over, grabbing the edge of the desk to keep from burying my face in her intoxicating heat. I could smell her passion and I wanted to taste it, but not yet. “Please, Sin …” she begged, opening her legs wider. I groaned. “Not yet. Keep going,” I demanded. She reached farther until she could slip her fingers inside and rub the knot with her thumb. Her breathing increased with the rhythm of her fingers, and she cried out as she built her release. I couldn’t stand it any longer, and I pushed her thumb away before sucking her into my mouth. She screamed and her fingers tangled in my hair as she lifted her hips. Grabbing her hips, I lifted her toward my mouth and rammed my tongue inside her.

“Sin!” She panted and ground her sweet pussy into my mouth. She was clawing at the desk for release by the time I lowered her hips. I flipped her around and bent her over the desk. “Open your legs,” I told her, and she did. Unzipping my pants, I pushed them down. I was so hard I thought I was going to burst, but I fucking loved the torture, and even more, I loved to watch Emily squirm. Holding myself, I rubbed my head against her slick opening. Her legs trembled and she moaned. “Do you like that?” I asked, repeating the movement. She purred and that was all I needed to hear. I positioned myself against her and slowly pushed in. Her hips moved against me, but I pulled back. I had no mercy as I took her hard and fast. The desk she was perched on shook violently, knocking pictures and papers to the floor. She was getting too loud, so I reached out and covered her mouth with my hand. If anything, it made her even hotter. She pressed back against me faster and harder until I thought I’d blow inside her. I growled when she nipped the inside of my palm with her teeth. “Oh, you want it rough, bad girl?” I asked as I shifted my hips and pressed her harder onto the desk. “Yes,” she growled back at me. The side of her face was mashed into her father’s desk calendar as I took her as hard and fast as I could. Reaching up, I tugged on her hair until her ear was close to my mouth. “You like getting fucked, don’t you, Emily?” I said before I bit her earlobe. “Yes.” Her voice broke. I could feel her tightening around me. She was close and it pushed me harder. “Are you going to come, pretty Emily? Go ahead and come for me, baby.” My words sent her over the edge. She threw her head back and screamed out her release. Again, I quickly covered her mouth, feeling her loud moans against my palm. Her cries sent me over the edge, and I knew I needed to pull out, but she was still coming and I didn’t want to quit before she was done. One final moan from her and it was all I could take. I didn’t even bother stopping or pulling out as I let go deep inside of her. It was the best orgasm of my life, and I was sure the loud noise that exploded from my lips let her know.



WHEN WE COULD finally move, I pulled up my jeans and buttoned them before grabbing Emily’s clothes. “Thanks,” she said softly and put on her bra and shirt. “Emily, I … Shit!” I whispered and ducked, bringing a half-clothed Emily with me. The flashlight flickered back and forth as the person holding it moved closer toward the office. My eyes flashed to the door, and I knew I hadn’t locked it. “What are we going to do?” Emily whispered anxiously. I wasn’t positive, but I was pretty sure I knew who was on the other side. I glanced around, looking for a place to hide. “Do the security guards here know you?” “Yeah, the day ones, but not the night ones. I’ve never had to break into my father’s office before.” “Who broke in? You have a key and knew the code, and that’s exactly what you’ll say if he asks.” Her eyes went round. “What?” I pulled something from my back pocket and handed it to her. “This is all you’ll need.” She took it from me but knew there was no time to ask where I’d gotten it from.

“I’m not dressed,” she hissed, reminding me that her sweet little ass was still bare. “Come on.” I pulled her with me and we crouched toward the desk. I climbed under and pulled her down onto the edge of the chair. “If you can talk yourself out of this, Red, you can talk yourself out of anything.” I pulled her to the desk as the door opened. “Holy, Jesus Christ!” a gruff voice exclaimed. “You scared the hell out of me, miss. Who are you and what are you doing here?” I tried to pay attention, but the sweet temptation that was Emily’s pussy drove me to distraction. Pushing open her thighs farther, I pulled her chair in closer. “I’m … Emily Gelding.” Her breath caught on her response as I traced her soft skin. “My … my father … father owns this building.” She stumbled over her words as I used my fingers to find her clit. It didn’t matter that I had just fucked her. I wanted her again, and the situation we were in only made it that much hotter. I gave her props for holding in her reaction. She tried to close her thighs, but I held them apart as I continued to tease her with my fingers. “I know who Dr. Gelding is. What are you doing here so late? And I’m going to need to see some ID.” “Of course,” she said breathlessly, and I heard her slide the picture ID I’d given her over the desk. “Are you okay, miss?” he asked suspiciously. “Yes. I’m fine. You just scared me, too.” I heard the sound of plastic smack against the smooth surface of the desk. “All right, Ms. Gelding, what are you doing here so late?” I waited for her to answer before I pushed two fingers inside of her. Again, she tried to close her legs, but I wouldn’t allow it. “I was supposed to get a file for my father that he needed first thing in the morning, and I completely forgot. I wouldn’t have had time to get it in the morning before he needed it.” She tried to rush through her lie because the more she talked, the harder it got for her not to cry out. “I’ll have to report this to my supervisor.” I moved faster and faster. “Of course. I completely understand. As long as my father gets this information, he won’t care when I got it.” I used my other hand to work her clit as I finger-fucked her.

“How much longer will you be?” I slowed down, but that only made it much more intense. Her response was dripping down my hand, and I knew it was only a matter of time before she exploded. “Only a few more minutes. I just have to fax this info over. I can … come … come find you when I leave if you like.” “Please do. I’ve made my rounds, so I’ll be in the lobby.” “Okay. Thank you.” She rushed out, trying to get rid of him. She began slowly moving her hips into my fingers, and I smiled. I pushed as deep into her as I could and almost laughed when she ground onto my fingers deeper. I pulled out when I heard the click of the door as it shut, and Emily didn’t move. I knew she was waiting until she saw his light disappear, and I knew the moment it did. She let out a moan and grabbed my wrist, pulling back her chair. She slid closer to the edge. “Finish what you started,” she demanded. “As you wish,” I said with a smile. Her release was loud and intense as she trembled around me. I savored it and then went back for more when she calmed down. She had come two more times before I finished with her. I watched her as she made use of the tissues on her father’s desk and got dressed. We had to hurry before the security guard came back to check on her, but she didn’t seem to give a good shit if she got caught at that point. “This is where my father keeps all of his patient files,” she told me without waiting for me to ask. She stopped in front of the file cabinet and pointed toward his desk. “There should be a key in the top drawer.” I opened the drawer and moved around a few things until I spotted two different sets of keys. Grabbing them both, I walked over to her and held them both up. “Which ones?” She frowned and took one of the sets. “These, but I’ve never seen those before.” She unlocked the file cabinet and pulled it open. “This is where Chelsea’s file will be if he still has it.” She began filtering through the files. “They’re in alphabetical order so this should be pretty easy. What’s Chelsea’s last name?” she asked. I swallowed hard. I hadn’t thought about this moment, and as badly as I didn’t want Emily to know my last name, I wanted Chelsea’s file more. “Marks,” I replied. She started to flip through the files, and I went back to the desk to put the other set of

keys back. The small silver lock on the door of his desk caught my eye, and I looked back at Emily. She was busy looking for the file. Pushing the chair in, I knelt in front of the door and pushed the key in and turned. It opened easily enough. I pulled out the small file rack that held about a dozen files. “It’s not here,” Emily said, sounding confused. “Her case isn’t that old that he would have filed it away.” She closed the file drawer, but I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying as I flipped through the folders. Chelsea’s was the last folder, and my heart thumped against my chest as I pulled it out and stood up. “What is that?” Emily asked, coming to stand at my side. “Is that it? Why is it in there?” I knew why, but I didn’t say anything to her. Looking down at the other eleven files, I realized they were all patients passed on to other surgeons. “Come on. Let’s go.” I kicked the file in and closed the door with my foot. I didn’t bother to pull the out key or lock it back up. When he came back, I wanted him to sweat. I took Emily’s hand and let her lock the office door before we made it to the staircase again. “The guard said he’d be waiting in the lobby, so we’ll need to sneak out the back,” she told me, and I let her lead us out. When we were back in the parking lot, we rushed to the car and got in. We drove in a different kind of silence back to my apartment. Chelsea’s file sat like the elephant in the car between us. I knew in her file was the proof I needed to expose her father for what he really was. That was why it was tucked away in his desk like a dirty little secret. I knew Emily knew it, too. I hated the part of me that suddenly wanted to protect her from the lie that was her father. I’d been wrong to involve Emily in this, but I hadn’t been able to see past my own rage. Her father deserved everything he had coming to him, but Emily didn’t deserve anything I’d done to her. I’d humiliated her and hurt her more times than I should have, and I wasn’t going to hurt her anymore. When I unlocked the door to my apartment, I pushed it open and let Emily in first. She went in like a walking zombie and sat on the couch. I put the file on the counter and walked away. I wasn’t ready to read it yet even though it was the moment I’d been waiting for.

My phone continuously buzzed in my pocket so I pulled it out. I frowned at the same unknown number that called me once a day. Ignoring the call, I put it back in my pocket and walked over to the couch. It buzzed once more, alerting me I had a voicemail. I sat down next to her, not saying a word. The war to want to spare Emily any more hurt and avenge Chelsea’s death was tearing me apart. “Do you think what you’re looking for is in that file?” she asked without looking at me. Yes. “I don’t know.” She looked over at me and realized my hands were empty. She looked forward. “You don’t have to try and protect me now, Jacksin. Let’s find out if my father is the monster you think he is.” She attempted to stand, but I grabbed her hand and pulled her back down on the couch with me. “I was wrong to involve you in this, Emily. I know it’s too late, but I realize that now and I’m sorry.” Again, her eyes found mine and they glistened with unshed tears. “I’m not,” she whispered. “If my father had anything to do with your daughter’s death, I want to know. I have the right to know.” “Or you could go back to your life and forget this ever happened.” She shook her head and chuckled sarcastically. “No, I can’t. I can’t forget any more than you can.” She moved over me, straddling my lap. I wrapped my hands around her hips as she cupped my face. “I don’t want to forget you; not that I could even if I wanted to. You brought me to life. You gave my gray world color, and I’ll never forget that.” She pressed her lips to mine and I softly kissed her back. “Let’s go to bed,” she whispered against my lips. I didn’t need any more invitation than that. I gripped her ass and stood. She wrapped her legs around my waist and pushed her tongue deep into my mouth. Walking into the bedroom, I kicked the door closed with my foot.



ROLLING OVER, I attempted to put my arm around Emily, but I came up empty. Lifting my head, I saw that she wasn’t in bed with me or in the bathroom. I looked back at the window, but it was closed and dawn was brightening the sky. I threw my legs over the bed and got up, finding my pants and pulling them over my naked hips. Walking into the living room, I could see the top of Emily’s head over the couch where she sat on the floor in front of the coffee table. Chelsea’s file was open and the contents were scattered over the table in a messy confession. I could hear her almost-silent sniffles, and I knew she found out the truth about her father. “Emily …” I said softly, coming around the couch to sit down. “You were right.” She sniffed again and her voice was worn from crying. “He did it. He transferred Chelsea’s surgery to make his quarterly bonus. Did you see all those files in his desk, Jacksin? Do you know what that means?” I sat on the floor next to her and pulled her into my chest and cupped her face. “Nothing I can say will make this easier for you, but I wish like hell there was.” “I don’t know how I can ever forgive him. I will never look at him the same, and I hate him for that.” “I’m sorry, sweet girl. I’m sorry for everything. If I had never …” “It’s not your fault.” She cut me off. “I needed to know the truth about him, and now, I do.” She sat back, putting distance between us. “My father did what you accused him of. I

know that now. He played with life when he had no right to, but he didn’t kill Chelsea.” She pushed aside papers until she found the one she was looking for. She put it in front of me and it might as well have been written in German for all the sense it made to me. “What is this?” “It’s Chelsea’s autopsy report,” she said slowly. “According to this, Chelsea died from a pulmonary embolism.” When her words finally sank in, I realized what she was telling me. I fell back against the couch and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m so sorry, Jacksin, but—” “Pulmonary embolism, as in her lungs were blocked? It wasn’t heart failure. The surgery wouldn’t have saved her from that anyway.” She didn’t need to confirm it. “I’m not telling you this so you’ll forgive or forget what my father did. He was so very wrong, but I wanted you to know that you did everything you could as Chelsea’s father, and she would be so proud of you.” Her words made my eyes sting as I fought to hold the tears. “I wanted you to know this so you could move on. Remember the good times with Chelsea and rebuild your life around them. She loved you so much. Love her back by letting go of what you can’t change.” I couldn’t control the sob that broke free, and I slumped over, letting the tears fall. “I miss her so much, Em.” My hands tightened into fists and the ache in my gut exploded. “Sometimes I can’t breathe because it hurts so much. I just want the pain to go away. I want my little girl back.” “I know. Shhh, I know.” I felt Emily’s hands come around me. “She’ll always be with you. She lives in your heart.” She pulled me to her as my cries filled the apartment.



I HELD HIM UNTIL he fell asleep in my arms. It was weird seeing such a big man fall to pieces the way he did, but I knew it was therapeutic for him. He needed to cry. He needed to release all the pent-up anger and hurt. I covered him with the blanket from the bed and went to his cell phone. I wanted nothing more than to call my father, but before I dialed the number, I knew it was something I had to do face to face. Instead, I called my cell phone. I didn’t know where it was, but at least, I could check my voicemails and see if anyone called. I needed to know what I was walking into. I needed to know if anyone had reported me missing. Also, I wasn’t sure if he was back from London yet. To be honest, I’d lost track of the days. I barely even knew what time it was anymore, much less what day. I’d wanted a wild vacation from everything, and it seemed I got way more than I’d bargained for. I had several messages from my father, but he never said anything about me being missing. Apparently, Ethan had called him, and he was more pissed about my hurting Ethan than anything else. There were also two messages from Ethan, one from Nicole, and two from my office. I checked Jacksin’s cell for the time and date before taking a deep, refreshing breath and a shower. I let the hot water wash away everything I’d ever thought I knew about my dad. I took the time to think about Jacksin and what I wanted from him. I didn’t know if he was willing to give me what I wanted, but I’d deal with that after everything else. I had to leave. Jacksin wouldn’t like it, but I had to go to my father’s house. I needed

to see him and let him know that I knew what he was doing and that he had to stop. He wasn’t God. He had no right to play with people’s lives, especially for money. “Want some company?” I jumped at the sound of Jacksin’s voice and turned in the shower to see him standing there. I’d been so caught up in my own little world that I hadn’t heard him open the shower door. “Does your company include touching? Maybe some sucking and licking?” I smiled seductively at him as he stepped into the shower. He pushed me into the wall and leaned into me. “That’s the best kind of company, don’t you know?” He pushed my sopping wet hair to the side then licked at the water droplets on the side of my neck. A soft, husky growl escaped his lips, and I trembled against him. “That was licking,” he said as he lapped up another droplet before moving down in front of me. “Now, hold on to the wall, and I’ll show you sucking.” An hour later, I woke up against him in bed. A small grin tugged at the corner of his lips while he slept, and I got a rush knowing I was the one who put that grin there. I might have gotten more than I expected in the excitement department, but Jacksin was everything I needed when it came to passion. He gave me what I craved; he gave everything he had to give. Crawling out of bed, I went into the bathroom and shut the door. I ran a brush through my still-damp hair and dressed. I slipped on my flats and made my way back into the bedroom to check on Jacksin. He was still sleeping soundly, his mouth slightly open and his hand tucked sweetly beneath his jaw. There was no doubt about it; I was in love with him. It was scary, and honestly, I had no idea how it happened, but I definitely loved him. Just thinking about walking out his door hurt me. I wanted to wake him and explain, but something told me it was better to leave and come back when I could. I leaned down and softly kissed him on the cheek, and he stirred slightly. The sheet slipped lower on his hips, and I had the urge to pull the material back and show him how good I could lick and suck, but I had to leave now. Before he woke up. Making my way into the living room, I walked to the front door. I used the key that I knew he kept hidden to unlock it. I’d always known where it was, but I’d never been able to leave him. Pulling open the door, I took a deep breath and prepared to face my father. “Going somewhere?” My heart kicked at the sound of Jacksin’s voice behind me, and I turned toward him. My breath caught as he stood in front of me completely naked. I wanted to fall to my knees in front of him and beg him to take me back to bed. But that wasn’t an option, and

honestly, I didn’t know if it would ever be an option again. “I have to go see my father. I have to confront him about this,” I said as I pointed to the disheveled papers on the floor by the couch. “You don’t have to, Emily. If you asked me to forget what we found, I would. For you, I would do anything.” My heart broke at his words and it only confirmed what I knew. I was so in love with the man in front of me I couldn’t stand it. He was willing to give up so much for me. I knew how badly he wanted to destroy my father, and for him to say he’d forget about it warmed my heart. But it wasn’t right. There were other lives at stake. I couldn’t forget that, and I was willing to give my father that much. “I can’t pretend like I don’t know what my father’s done. I’m horrified by his actions, and I need him to explain to me why he did what he did. I also need to make sure he never does it again. There are lives at stake. We can’t take that chance.” He nodded, seeming to understand what I was telling him as his shoulders dropped in defeat. “When it’s all said and done, I’ll come back.” I cleared my throat. “That is … if you want me to.” I knew in the back of my mind that I was setting myself up for one hell of a heartache, but I had to take a chance. I’d spent my entire life not taking chances, and Jacksin brought out the risk-taker in me. He shook his head and my heart dropped. “We can never be together the way you want us to be, Emily, because no matter what happens, I’ll always be the guy who tore your family apart.” “You didn’t. My father did this. The only thing you did was shine a light on the situation, but if you don’t want me to come back …” “I want you to,” he whispered hoarsely. My insides smiled, and it must have reflected on the outside because his lips tilted up on the side in a tiny grin. I nodded and twisted my hands nervously in front of me. I wanted to run to him and wrap my arms around his neck, but I knew if I felt his hands on me, I wouldn’t leave. Ever. “My father’s left several messages on my phone. It seems Ethan called him to let him know about …” I lifted my hand between us, and he nodded his understanding. “His plane lands today so I’m going to wait for him at his house.” “Voice mails? How did you—” I cut him off before he could ask. “I used your cell to call my voice mail. You should probably check yours. You have a billion missed calls from some guy named Carl.”

He frowned at the name but didn’t comment. He didn’t seem too angry that I’d used his phone or checked his messages. “Do you know what you’re going to say to him?” he asked. “Not a clue, but I have an hour or so to figure it out.” I walked backward toward the door. “I should get going.” I put my hand on the knob. “Bye, Sin,” I said with a sly smile. I pulled open the door and as I closed it, I heard him say, “Bye, Emily.”



SHE WAS GONE, and something told me I’d never see her again. I wasn’t worried about her running to the police, so there was no need to rush out of my apartment. More than likely, she’d go back to her boring life with Ethan. I just hoped she was happy. I wanted her happiness—she deserved it. I hadn’t had a drink in a little while and figured Emily leaving was a damn good reason for a cold one. I lifted the beer to my lips and the bitter taste slid down my throat slowly. I didn’t down the beer the way I would have before. For once, I didn’t think the answer to my problem was at the bottom of an empty bottle. But what, or more like who, I needed was gone. I’d exposed her father for what he really was and turned her against him. That was the point of everything I’d done the last few weeks. By crashing into Emily’s life, I’d made mine even worse. Instead of missing one person, I was going to be missing two. Despite how hard I tried to keep myself from feeling anything for Emily, the feelings were there, firmly planted in my core. Throughout everything, she somehow managed to crawl under my skin and plant a piece of herself there. I hated her for that, but I hated myself more for letting it happen. After all was said and done, she had broken me in the best way possible. I thought revenge on her father was going to release me from the heartache I’d felt the moment Chelsea took her last breath, but it wasn’t. Revenge had nothing on love, and as badly as I wanted to kick myself for it, I’d fallen in love with Emily. Constance was right; she was good for me. No matter how hard I fought her, she

pushed me to move on. She pushed me past the pain and into a place where I felt like I could breathe again. I could rebuild my life without the anger, and I wanted to rebuild it with her. She said she’d be back, but there was a part of me, a part I tried to ignore, that told me even if Emily came back to me, she’d never be able to forget that I was the one who ruined her life and tore apart the only relationships she had. It made me sick knowing I’d made her life as lonely as mine. Dropping my head back, I closed my eyes and wondered how I was going to get over another loss. I heard my phone buzz loudly against the counter and sighed, getting up. I picked up the phone and turned it on. Like Emily had said, my voice mail was full, and I had three missed calls from the same mysterious number. I put the phone to my ear and went through the necessary steps of listening to my voicemails. It was mostly Constance trying to be nosy, and I was about to just delete them all until I heard a familiar raspy voice come on. I listened to the message in horror as I realized who the number belonged to. You have a billion missed calls from some guy named Carl. At that exact moment, all of my memories of Carl came crashing over me. My stomach lurched, bringing all the bitter beer up into my throat. Running to the door, I pulled it open and slammed it shut behind me, not bothering to lock it. I cursed myself as I flew through the lobby of my apartment building and down to the parking garage. The people I passed looked at me like the crazy man I was. My fingers shook as I tried to put my keys in the ignition. “Calm the fuck down and get it together, you son of a bitch,” I cursed myself. Once I got my car started, I squealed tires as I pulled out of the garage and down the street. I’d completely forgotten about Carl and the last part of our agreement the minute I’d laid eyes on Emily. He’d been trying to call me all week, but I never saved his number in my phone. How could I have been so stupid? I was being just as careless with people’s lives as Emily’s father. “Fuck!” I yelled, slamming my fist into the steering wheel. I made a sharp right, cutting off a few cars and ignoring their loud honks as I raced toward the doctor’s house. I hoped it wasn’t too late. I needed to get there before Emily. She didn’t need to find Carl destroying her father’s house to make it look like a break-in. I silently prayed just as hard as I did when I was praying for my daughter’s life. I begged God to forgive me for turning my back on him, and I could only hope he heard my prayers.



WHEN MY CAB pulled into my father’s driveway, I felt like someone had their hands wrapped around my neck. I couldn’t breathe as I sat there staring up at the house where I grew up. Childhood memories assaulted me. All my old joys and hurts—the memories of my father’s face on my graduation day—all of it came crashing down on me. A tear slipped from my eyes and rushed down my cheek. I wanted to believe that my father hadn’t always been corrupt. How could a man who’d taken care of all my hurts be more concerned about money than the lives of others? He was a hero—he’d been my hero for all of my life—and I didn’t want to believe all of that was a lie. I dug some cash out of my pocket and gave it to the cab driver. I hoped Jacksin wasn’t mad that I’d taken some out of his wallet. Once the cab pulled away from the curb, I checked the time, knowing my father would be there any minute. His flight had landed forty minutes ago, according to his voice mail. He’d been in an uproar when he left it, telling me how embarrassed he’d been over the way I treated Ethan. Like he had any room to talk about how to treat people. I was livid that he thought he could talk to me that way, especially considering what I knew about him. It pissed me off that he could live on such a high horse after the terrible things he’d done. The man had magic hands. He had the ability to save lives. God had given him a gift and he wasn’t using it properly. Just thinking of the cabinet with all the files of people who

were either dead or still struggling made me even angrier. I sighed and walked up to the front door of my childhood home. I paused with a frown. Two more cautious steps brought me up to the slightly opened door. Thinking that maybe my father was already home, I reached out and pushed the door the rest of the way open. My breath caught as I stepped onto the broken glass in the foyer. The house was completely trashed. I didn’t recognize the living room. The couches were ripped apart, cushions lying in random places all over the room and feathers floating everywhere. Glass coated the floor, picture frames full of memories destroyed. Reaching down, I picked up a ripped picture of my father and me. With shaky fingers, I went to grab my cell phone from my pocket before I realized I didn’t have it. There was no telling where in my apartment that thing was. I cursed and walk toward the kitchen to get the cordless. I slightly thanked my father for not getting rid of it when I made fun of him for being the only person left who had one. With my back to the wall, I worked my way through the foyer and toward the kitchen. A nail from where a picture used to hang caught my shirt, prompting me to turn with a gasp. After releasing my shirt from the nail, I stepped into the kitchen and froze immediately. The intruder was still there. Instinct told me to run for the door. I could still see it out of the corner of my eye, and I was pretty sure I could make it out of the house without the trespasser knowing I was even there. Taking a step toward the door, my flats hit a patch of broken glass. I heard the crunch under my shoe the same time the intruder did. He turned, his face going pale in fear of being caught. He was older, with greasy graying hair and deep, dirty wrinkles. His mouth opened in shock, revealing rotting teeth and cracked, chapped lips. His wide eyes took me in and he quickly reached for something in his jacket pocket. I didn’t have time to react before he lifted the gun on me with shaky hands. He was as scared as I was, and a scared person with a gun was never a good thing. He took a small step in my direction prompting me to move as well. I began to back up, but I slipped on a jagged piece of glass. I knew it was my only chance, so I moved as fast as I could to run. The loud blast of the gun echoed off the walls in an ear-piercing howl. Something slammed into me, knocking me onto the floor.



I PULLED UP INTO the driveway at the doctor’s house and jumped out of the car. I’d barely put my car in park. For all I cared, it could have rolled into the street and got smashed into a million pieces. I ran up the lawn and to the open front door. Everything was silent, which was never a good thing. Once I stepped into the house, broken glass crunched loudly under my feet, but the only thing I could hear was the pounding of my heart. “Emily!” I roared, and my voice echoed off the walls. I longed to hear her voice—to know she was okay, but there was nothing, only the sounds of broken glass, and my heart beat. “Em …” I started to call her again, but then I saw her. Her legs stuck out from the doorway of the kitchen. I ran to her, dropping to my knees in a pile of broken glass at her side. “Emily? Talk to me, Emily.” My voice trembled as I touched her softly. And then I saw it. There was a puddle of blood seeping into the knees of my pants. It spread across her shirt from her shoulder and down her side. Her pink shirt was soaked in crimson. My stomach felt weak, and the room began to move around me. Reaching out, I touched her shoulder softly, and she moaned, turning slightly toward me. “Emily.” My voice cracked. “Talk to me, baby. What did I do? Oh God, what did I do? I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.” I swiped at a tear that was tickling my cheek and pulled my cell out of my pocket. My

fingers fumbled across my phone, leaving spots of blood that I hadn’t known was on my hands. I caught the phone between my head and shoulder and grabbed Emily’s hand. “9-1-1 what’s your emergency?” The operator sounded loudly. “Someone’s been shot. We need help now!” I shouted out the address and begged her to get them here as fast as possible. “Yes, sir, help is coming as fast as they can. They’re already on the way. There were already reports of gunshots in your area. Sir, could I please have your name?” she asked. I didn’t answer. Instead, I hung up and pulled Emily into my lap. “Help’s on the way, Em. Just stay with me. Please don’t leave me, Emily. Please. This is all my fault. I know I’m a fuck-up, but please don’t leave me.” Her eyelids fluttered as she turned toward my voice and squeezed my hand. She was weak and her skin was already paling from blood loss. I squeezed back and brought her cold hand to my lips, giving it a soft kiss. “Jacksin?” she rasped. She started coughing and a tiny bit of blood spewed from her mouth, landing on her drying lips. “Shhh, don’t talk. Fight for me, baby. I need you to hold on. They’re on their way.” She closed her eyes and I gave her a good shake. “Emily?” I called her name in a panic, and her eyes popped back open. “I need to tell you. I love you, Emily. I love you so fucking much. I know I shouldn’t. I have no right to after what I’ve done, but you saw past the monster I was becoming and you brought me back to life. Forgive me for everything I’ve done to you, Emily. Please forgive me.” Again, I swiped angrily at a falling tear. Dammit! What was taking them so long to get to her? And then I heard the sirens. They grew louder and louder, and I knew it was only a matter of minutes before they arrived. It didn’t matter what happened to me; I wasn’t leaving her. “What the hell? Who are you? What are you doing in my … Emily? Oh my God, Emily!” My head snapped up at the sound of her father’s voice, and he came rushing toward us. “What did you do?” he asked me while staring at his daughter in horror. “Get away from her!” he roared as he dropped to his knees at her other side. My fist clenched, but Emily’s soft moan of pain that brought me back to reality. I’d already caused her enough heartache. I wouldn’t hurt her anymore.

Leaning down, I pressed a soft kiss on her temple and pushed her hair away from her blood-covered lips. Her father pressed against my shoulder to push me away. I looked up into his beady eyes and for a second it struck me how much he really did care for Emily. He looked like he was ready to murder me. “I said get away from her!” he yelled at me. He began checking her vitals and ripping her shirt off to check the wound. He was a doctor—a dirty doctor—but he was a doctor, and she was his daughter. He had to save her. He had to. Slowly, I got to my feet and watched as he softly talked to her while checking her wound. She cried out a little when he probed it gently and her pain struck my heart, angering me all over again. “That’s my girl. Fight it, sweetheart,” he said to her, and again she called out in pain as he lifted her arm to check her more thoroughly. “You did this,” I hissed, and he looked up at me in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded. “You did all of this, remember that. Save her life, because if she dies, I will kill you!” And I meant it. If something happened to Emily, we were both to blame, and since I already felt dead, he deserved to die, too. If something happened to her, I’d kill him. And this time, it wouldn’t be for Chelsea; it would be for Emily.

I DIDN’T GO straight home, but I knew I couldn’t go to the hospital for two reasons. One: I was sure to go to jail. All Emily’s father knew was he found me there with her and she was shot. He knew nothing about the man who was supposed to wreck his house for me. He had no idea there had been a second person there, and regardless of how I tried to explain it to him or the police, it wasn’t going to look good for me, and I saw bars in my future. Two: I couldn’t watch another person I loved die. Call me selfish, but I couldn’t do it. And if by some chance she made it through, she deserved better. I loved her enough to give her a better chance at life than being stuck with a crazy fucker like me. Not to mention, I wasn’t even sure if she had feelings for me the way I did for her. Either way, it was for the best all around. I would always love Emily. I’d love her for being the one person bright and beautiful enough to pull me from the brink of death. I’d love her because she was her. She was the most amazing woman I’d ever known. Because of everything that went down, I knew what I had to do. I had to leave. I had to

go as far away as possible, and I had to do it for Emily, and for me too. I reached into my glove compartment and pulled out the last thing I’d bought for Chelsea. I ran my fingers over the metal Eiffel Tower. Paris. I was going to run to Paris. White rocks crunched under my tires as I pulled my car up to the last place I ever thought I’d have to go. It felt like a million years since I was there watching them lower my daughter into the ground. I didn’t think I’d survive that, and I definitely never thought I’d ever be able to come back to her resting place again. I had to say goodbye. Chelsea deserved that much from me. I needed to tell my baby girl goodbye and I needed to move on. She would want that for me, and since I wasn’t able to ever take her to Sleeping Beauty’s tower, I’d make sure the parts of her that lived in my heart would. I made my way across the cemetery, careful not to step on anyone’s grave. I passed headstone after headstone until my eyes landed on Chelsea’s name. Bending over, I ran my fingers across the fresh grass that had grown over her space. “There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that I don’t think of you.” I sighed, kneeling down in front of her headstone. “I know it seems like I deserted you, but I thought I was doing what was best for you, baby.” My eyes filled with tears, blurring out her headstone and the praying cherub carved into the marble above her name. “I want to regret what I did. I tell myself I was wrong, but I found love again, and I can’t find it in me to wish I hadn’t ever met her.” I placed a single pink rose on top of the headstone. “You were everything I could ever want in a daughter, Chelsea. You’re the reason I can love, the reason I can forgive, and the reason I will never forget the happiest time of my life. I’ll thank God every day for the rest of my life that he gave you to me, even for the short time you were on this earth. You made my life perfect.” I kissed my fingers and placed them over her name. “I love you, princess.” I stood and swiped at the tears on my face. Pulling out the Eiffel Tower that I’d bought her, I bent over her grave and placed it next to the flower. “Sweet dreams, Sleeping Beauty.”



I WOKE THREE DAYS later, feeling like death had run me over with a big truck. My father was sleeping uncomfortably in the chair beside my bed, and the sounds of the hospital monitors filled the room. I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain cut through my chest and shoulder that made me gasp for air. I tried to remember everything that happened, tried to remember why I was in the hospital, but everything was blurry. All I could see was Jacksin’s eyes and tears falling from them. And then as if someone turned on a big, bright light, all of the memories of the day I was shot came rushing in. I remembered everything. The feel of it, how the man who did it went rushing out of the house. I remembered Jacksin at my side, crying and begging me not to leave him, and then another memory moved in. The memory was so strong. The heart monitor beside me sped up as I remembered it so clearly. Jacksin told me he loved me. He confessed his love as he held me bleeding in his arms. Just like that, I tried to sit up again, ignoring the pain, until my father pressed a hand against my good shoulder, holding me down. “No, sweetie, you have to stay down. You lost a lot of blood and you were in surgery for a long while.” “Surgery?” “Yes. You were in there for three hours while they tried to stop the bleeding and remove the bullet.” His face turned red and angry. “When I think of what he did to you

…” His voice trailed off. “The police have been waiting to talk to you. The sooner they catch the bastard that did this to you, the better.” “Daddy, where’s Jacksin?” Before he could answer, there was a light tap on my door before it was pushed open. Two policemen walked in and took off their hats. “Good afternoon, Ms. Gelding. How are you feeling?” I moved, flinching slightly. “As good as I can, I suppose. Have you guys been waiting outside my door this entire time?” I was only half kidding. He laughed nervously. “No. Actually, we were just coming down by chance that you were up.” “I guess you guys got lucky. I’m sorry; this is my father, Dr. Gelding.” Both police officers looked at my father and gave him a firm nod. “We actually met your father a few days ago. He hasn’t left your side since you got here.” “Well, I don’t think you’re here just to see how I am …” “No, ma’am. We actually just needed to ask you a few questions and then we’ll leave you to rest. We figured it was best to talk to as soon as we could so everything was fresh in your memory.” I took a deep breath and even that hurt. “Of course. What would you like to know?” “We haven’t been able to figure out much about the man who shot you. It seems his file was stolen from your father’s office.” His eyes flashed to mine and a soft pink touched my cheeks. Not because I’d been the one to steal the file, but because I remembered all too clearly what had happened in my father’s office. “The hospital is trying to dig up what they have on him but haven’t been able to get that information to us yet. We’d like to know anything you can tell us about him. Did he let anything slip that might help us find him?” And then it registered what he’d said. I tried to sit up further in bed. “I’m sorry, did you say shot me?” “Yes, ma’am.” I shook my head. “Sin didn’t shoot me.” He frowned. “Sin? Is that what he said his name was? His name’s Jacksin.” “Yes, I know, but he didn’t shoot me. The man who broke into my father’s house shot me. Jacksin saved me. He called 9-1-1.” My father reached out and squeezed my hand. “It’s over, sweetheart. You don’t have to pretend anymore. He can’t hurt you. You’re safe.” I pulled my hand free of his and practically growled at him. “You don’t know what

you’re talking about. I wasn’t pretending with him.” “You’re talking out of your head, Emily. You’ve been under a ton of stress and stress can do that do you.” He continued to try to talk me out of my feelings. “No!” I said firmly. “I know exactly what I’m talking about, and Jacksin didn’t do what you think he did.” “We didn’t see any sign of anyone else being there, Ms. Gelding.” “Of course not! He wasn’t going to stay around after he shot me, and since you were so sure Jacksin was the one who shot me, you didn’t bother to look for anyone else.” The officer cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Ms. Gelding, if you don’t help us, we can’t press charges against—” “Press charges? I’m not pressing any charges unless you find the actual man who shot me.” “Emily …” My father started, outraged. “I said I’m not pressing charges.” “Ms. Gelding, I understand that you probably feel some sort of compassion for this man. We know his daughter did pass a few months ago and your father was the attending doctor. He might have felt some resentment toward your father and took it out on you. You don’t have to worry that he’ll—” “I assure you, officer, that’s not the case. I won’t be pressing charges,” I repeated firmly. The officer looked slightly annoyed, but I didn’t care. When he realized I wasn’t going to back down, he sighed. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time, Ms. Gelding. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” I smiled at him politely. “Thank you, officer.” My father gave him a terse goodbye and waited until he had closed the door before standing and going in on me. “Have you lost your mind, Emily? That man—” “Did nothing but save my life,” I said icily. “I know he’s more involved than you’re letting on, Emily. I don’t understand why you’re protecting him. Did he threaten you? Did he say he would hurt you if you said anything? Or hurt me? I promise you, daughter, he won’t lay a finger on you ever …” “He told me everything,” I yelled at him. “I saw the files on your desk. All those lives you played with. How could you do that?” His face paled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear. Again, you’ve been under lots of—” “No! I saw them with my own eyes. Jacksin’s not the monster. You are! All those

years I looked up to you. You were my hero, and all that time you were passing up surgeries that could save lives because of money.” I saw the moment he knew he couldn’t lie his way out of it. His face crumpled and sadness filled his aging eyes. “I did it for you, Emily. All of it.” I could hardly believe my ears. That didn’t make it okay. If anything, it made it worse. “Don’t say that! You’re trying to get out of what you’ve done, and I won’t let you.” “I’m so sorry, Emily.” “I don’t know how I can ever forget what you’ve done.” “I’ll make it up to you. I swear to you I will.” “But how are you going to make it up to all the people you’ve betrayed? They trusted you to protect them, to save them! You may not have killed Sin’s daughter, but what about the rest of them? “I didn’t do anything illegal, Emily.” “How does that make what you’ve done okay? You lied!” “Please tell me what I can do to make it up to you, Emily. I will do anything.” “It’s not my forgiveness you need, Dad.” He took a deep breath. “Emily, dear, do you really think my confession will help those families? Most of them have probably moved on with their lives. Accepted what happened. Do you think me telling them what happened is going to help them?” I hated that he had a point, but if things had gone differently with Chelsea, if she had died because of my father’s selfishness, would knowing the truth make Jacksin feel better? “No.” He sighed, thinking he’d gotten me. “All we can do is move on from here. For me to make this up to you, darling.” I had a choice. My father or Jacksin. I couldn’t have them both—I knew that—and I may never have Jacksin again, but if there was a chance … I had to try. My father was a different person to me now. He wasn’t my hero anymore. I was ashamed of him. But despite how angry I was, a part of me still loved him and that made what I had to say next hard. “I think you should leave, Dad.” He stared at me in disbelief. “But Emily …” He tried desperately to keep me from doing what I knew I had to do. “You can’t do this.”

“Good-bye, Dad.”

I WAS RELEASED from the hospital a week later. My father was there to drive me home. He took me straight to my apartment after much trying to convince me to go home with him. He was sure to bring in all the files from his desk so we could go through them together and figure out who still needed their surgery and if there was anything we could do for the families. I knew in the back of my mind that he was doing all of it to make me happy with him again, but I didn’t care. As long as it was being done. As long as he was making it right. After he had left, I walked aimlessly around my apartment. Memories of Jacksin swarmed all around me. I missed him like crazy, and I wanted to see him. I was hurt that he hadn’t stopped by the hospital to see me, and parts of me hoped I’d find him hiding in my apartment, but sadly, he wasn’t there. I drove to his apartment only to find it empty. Still, I spent an hour standing around in his old bedroom and looking around thinking about him. I knew I’d never see him again. Three days later, I was back on my feet completely. I didn’t have to go back to work for another week, so I spent most of my time watching old reruns and eating junk food. There was no doubt about it; I was depressed. I was in love and miserable. When I didn’t think I could stand it anymore, I went to my father’s office and began digging through his files. “What are you looking for, Emily?” my father asked as he came into his office. “I promised, no more files, sweetie, and I meant it.” “No. I wasn’t looking for that. You wouldn’t happen to know where Jacksin’s daughter is buried, would you?” I asked. I hated asking him, but I needed to feel close to Jacksin. Something told me going to visit Chelsea’s grave would make me feel that closeness. Plus, I wanted to pay my respects. She had become a big part of my life the minute I fell in love with her father. It was the least I could do. An hour later, I walked through the small cemetery in search of her headstone. Sadness filled me when I noticed the dates of births and deaths chiseled onto the headstones— mostly children. Finally, I found her headstone. Chelsea Marks … I bent down next to her grave and ran my fingers across the soft green grass. I kept telling myself I wasn’t imposing on Jacksin’s relationship with his daughter, that it was the only way I could feel close to him, and I did. It was as if I could feel him standing next to me.

It had been almost two weeks since I was released from the hospital and even longer since I’d spoken to Jacksin. I love you, Emily. I fucking love you … His fierce declaration was on constant replay in my head, and it made focusing impossible. I couldn’t concentrate on everyday life, and I knew when I finally did go back to work, I’d never be able to be the best doctor I could be with thoughts of Sin bouncing around my head. He left a void in me when he left me—a deep black hole full of emotions I’d never felt before. I couldn’t be mad at him for what happened. I loved him too much, and I knew he did what he thought he had to do. Stepping up to her headstone, I knelt in front of it and ran my fingers over her name. “Hi, Chelsea. My name’s Emily and I’m a friend of your daddy’s.” I rested my arms on top of my thighs. “I don’t have to tell you this, but he’s a pretty special man and he loves you with all his heart.” The wind blew and the sweet scent of flowers swirled around me. I pushed my hair from my eyes and looked to the sky with a big smile on my face. I could feel Jacksin. A piece of him was embedded here with his daughter. They would never be without each other. I laughed and wiped at a tear falling down my cheek. I took a deep breath and put my hands on my knees to push me up. The wind blew again and I felt something brush against my foot. Bending over, I picked up a faded pink rose. The once-soft petals were starting to dry up and become crispy. I brought it to my nose and inhaled its sweet scent. It wasn’t so old that it lost its smell completely, which meant Jacksin had been there recently. I tucked it close to Chelsea’s headstone and then I saw it—a small Eiffel Tower sticking up from the grass. I plucked it from the grass and ran my thumb over it. If my heart were ever going to explode, it would’ve been at that moment. Joy I hadn’t felt since the last time I was with Jacksin filled me. Placing the tower with the rose, I smiled down at the cherub engraved on the headstone. “Thanks, Chelsea,” I whispered.



“CAN I GET you anything else before we land, miss?” the flight attendant asked as she steered her cart beside my seat. I’d already asked her several times if I could be moved due to the snoring old man to my left. “No, thank you, though.” I smiled at her and she smiled back before walking away. We would be touching ground in less than thirty minutes, which was good considering I was so ready to be off the plane. The turbulence had been hell, and my stomach was starting to disagree with me. I’d already visited the miniature bathroom three times since I got on the plane. I sat anxiously as the fasten seat belt sign came on and the captain’s voice rang through the speakers. “Welcome to the City of Love, folks. We hope you enjoy your stay in Paris.” We touched ground ten minutes later, and an hour later, I was checked into my hotel room. Pulling back the curtains, I took a deep breath as I looked at the Eiffel Tower from my window. It was absolutely breathtaking, and my heart pounded in my chest as I thought of seeing it up close later that night. I took a long, hot shower, hoping it would calm my nerves, but when I got out, I was still a mess. I did my makeup and got dressed slowly. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I ran my hands down my red dress.

It had a princess neckline with a halter-top that showed just enough cleavage. It pulled in tight around my waist but flared out at my hips. I slipped into my red heels and pulled on my black sweater. Making sure I had my purse and room key, I left the hotel room feeling like I was walking on air. When I got down to the front, the bellman called me a cab and with the little French I’d learned, I instructed the cab driver to drop me off at the Eiffel Tower. It took me five minutes to talk myself out of the cab when we pulled up in front. After paying him, I waited for him to leave before I crossed the street. It wasn’t busy, and I didn’t know if I felt more relieved or disappointed by that. I went as far up the tower as I was allowed and made my way out toward the middle of the ramp. There were a few stragglers, mostly couples in love. It was going to be closing in an hour, but if I had to wait there until they kicked me out, I would. And I would come back every night until … until forever. I leaned over the railing and took in the breathtaking sight. I thought about everything I left back at home and realized I didn’t have a life there anymore. I still had my father, but even our relationship was rocky. We said everything that needed to be said. I was moving on with my life. Apparently, Ethan was dating some uptight lawyer he’d met online. I couldn’t have been happier for him. He was a great guy, just not great for me. We had pretty good memories together, but the truth was we should have never been together. If I had been able to stand up to my father the way I could now, we would have never been together. I was getting a second chance, and I was starting over again. I now planned to do things right from the start. Jacksin showed me what it was like to be alive, to know what it felt like for passion to totally consume me. I would never be happy with anything less than that. Not ever. “Excusez-moi, madame.” I turned toward the young boy and he blushed. “Five minutes,” he said slowly. “Merci.” “You. Are. Very. Welcome.” He smiled at his broken English, and I smiled back and nodded that he was correct. He walked away, and I tried not to let the dread that filled my heart crush me. Tomorrow was another day. I went every night just before closing for a week. The young boy who worked there had already learned quite a bit of English in return for his short lessons in French. I was starting to worry that I’d never see Sin again. Plus, I was quickly running out of red things to wear. I could still hear him calling me Red whenever I closed my eyes. One of the lights above me went out, and I knew it was close to time to go. I leaned over the rail once more to get a good look at the view below. Paris was such a beautiful city. Chelsea was right; the Eiffel Tower really was meant for lovers. I could only hope

that my Prince Charming would meet me at the top one day. I leaned back and took a deep breath. No matter what, I couldn’t get discouraged. I couldn’t give up on Jacksin and run back to America with my tail between my legs. Suddenly, a warmth pressed against my back. A familiar scent swarmed around me, and I closed my eyes as I breathed it in. My stomach did a flip and my heart squeezed in my chest. Everything I wanted was behind me. Everything I needed was putting his arm around my waist and holding me close to him I took another deep breath when I felt his stubble on the side of my neck. He was there —he was really there. “Sin,” I said breathlessly. He chuckled softly in my ear, sending a wave of chills down my body. “You looking for me, Red? I sure as hell hope so, looking like that. I didn’t know so many different styles of red dresses existed. By the way, this one is my favorite.” I gasped. “You’ve been watching me? And you made me wait a whole week?” “I thought you’d eventually give up, but you didn’t.” “I wouldn’t have either.” He smiled against my hair. “I figured I better put you out of your misery.” I pretended to pout. “How kind of you.” “You know better than that, Red.” “Aren’t you supposed to say something sweet to me?” His breathing changed, striking the side of my neck and sending chills over my arms. “You were the reason, Red.” “Reason for what?” “That my heart beat again.” His sweet confession warmed my cheeks. “I love you, Sin. I didn’t get to tell you, but I love you.” “I knew that.” I smiled, deliriously happy. “Is this the part where we shake hands?” He spun me around, and the sight of him made my head spin. “This is the part where I kiss you and never let you go, Emily.” “Say it first,” I rushed out before his lips could touch mine. “And then they lived happily ever after,” he whispered. And I knew no matter what, we would.



I REACHED DOWN AND grabbed Emily’s hand as we walked through the cemetery. Living in France, we didn’t get to visit Chelsea as much as we’d like, but no matter what, we always visited on her birthday. When we reached her headstone, I laid the traditional pink rose on her grave. Emily followed behind me and placed hers. It still hurt every time I thought of Chelsea. Losing a child was something no one ever really got over, but as the years went by, it got easier. There were still times when I woke up in a sweat with her name on my lips, but Emily was always there, and she had a way that always relaxed me. I didn’t know what I’d do without her. I thought for sure my life was over, but she gave me my life back. Standing, I put my arm around her shoulder and brought her close to me. “I love you,” I said as I kissed her temple. “I love you too, Sin,” she said with the smile she reserved just for me. Even though I’d given the name to mock her, I fucking loved when she called me that. I guess the joke was on me. “Happy birfday, Selsea!” our daughter, Abigail, squealed. She was only three and didn’t really understand death, but we made sure to talk about Chelsea plenty so she’d always know she had a big sister that watched over her. Abigail rushed over to me and grabbed my hand. I squeezed her tiny fingers softly in mine and silently thanked God for giving me a second chance at life. “Daddy, when we get home, can we go to the pwincess tower?” Abigail asked.

I felt a tear come to my eye. I got teary eyed every time she asked to go to the Eiffel Tower. She was a lot like her big sister, as in she loved all things princesses. I’d even passed on Chelsea’s princess books to her since I knew in my heart that it was what Chelsea would want. “Yes, baby girl. Mommy and Daddy will take you to the princess tower when we get home,” I said with a smile and lifted her into the air, laughing with her as she squealed. I kissed her nose before I let her tiny feet touch the ground. She took off running across the green grass, the wind catching her dark curls and bouncing them all around her face. Pulling Emily back to my side, I gave her a long kiss. “Thank you,” I said. “For what?” “For giving me my life back.”



Hot & Heavy The Chubby Girl Chronicles 2 Sometimes a little heat is all it takes to lighten a heavy heart. Shannon Daniels is afraid of men, but when Matthew Ellis literally falls into her lap, fear is the last thing she feels. For the first time in years, she desires a man and she plans on taking advantage of her new craving. Shannon hatches a plan to satisfy her sudden hunger, but dancing with the Devil will get you more than a one-way trip to Hell and Shannon finds out quickly that even the best-laid plans go awry. Matthew Ellis swears he will never get caught in the tangled web of a woman. After a devastating heartbreak, he’s determined to die a bachelor. When he meets Shannon, a chubby redhead with a firecracker personality, he decides to add her to his list of conquests. The good news is she’s okay with a hot and heavy fling. The bad news is, for the first time since he was a teenager, being caught doesn’t seem that unappealing. Pre-order your copy of Hot & Heavy today!



I despised Reed Peirce. He was a cocky, egotistical smooth talker, and more times than not, he was also my opposing counsel in the courtroom. He thinks he’s God’s gift to the law, but I know the real reason he wins so many cases, and it has more to do with those persuading green eyes than his fancy law degree. Not that I can blame the jury. I was once on the receiving end of that perfectly tilted smirk and deceiving charm, and I learned the hard way not to trust him. Now, a year later, it’s a virtual tug-o-war in the courtroom, and I refuse to fall for his witty banter and flirty smiles again. I was determined to show the playboy of appeals that he messed with the wrong lady of the law. Only, the joke was on me, and a drunken night of hot, mind-numbing sex has my aversions toward him wavering. One bottle. One dare. One night. That’s all it took to obliterate a year’s worth of hate toward Reed. It was thoughtless. It was reckless. And no matter the case I please, he’s left me defenseless. Sign up below to be notified when LUST is available http://melissaandrea.com/subscribe-to-me/



G E T Y O U R C O P Y O F TA B AT H A’ S N E W E S T R E L E A S E

Slammer Black Sheep Sacked

On the Plus Side Hot and Heavy

The Blow Hole Rock Hard Box Set Playing Patience (Zeke) Perfecting Patience 1.5 (Zeke) Finding Faith (Finn) Convincing Constance (Tiny) Having Hope (Chet)

The Black Trilogy Little Black Beginning Little Black Book Little Black Break The Wrath of Sin The Procedure Jack Hammer



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Be sure to check out more from Melissa Andrea! Darkness Duet Series The Edge of Darkness The Grace in Darkness The Discover Series Flutter Shatter – Coming Soon The Black Trilogy Little Black Beginning Little Black Book Little Black Break (Co-Written w/ Tabatha Vargo)