by Amelia Wilde
“Make love to me, Noah. Just us, no secrets, no lies.”
He knelt and picked her up, holding her against his chest as he strode down the hallway to her room. Lucia giggled when he dropped her on the bed, spreading her arms to keep from bouncing all over the place. Noah smiled and then crawled over the bedspread toward her.
“I love that sound. All I ever want is to see you this happy, Lucia.”
She ran a finger down his muscular chest and then circled his erection with her palm gently. His lashes drifted down on a strangled groan, and then he shot her a look that told her his erotic retribution would be swift.
“You have everything you need to keep me happy.”
She stroked him gently and he groaned. “Fuck, princess, that feels so good.”
Feeling bold, she slid her hand down his boxers and Noah cursed low even as his erection twitched in her hand. His hips pushed into her hand and he squeezed his eyes shut as he bit his bottom lip. She liked this kind of power. Liked how it felt to make him lose control.
When her fingertip found the bead of liquid and spread it over the tip of his erection, he shuddered but then quickly stilled her hands. “Princess, you have to stop. My control is already thin.”
She frowned. “But I was exploring.”
“I promise you, you can explore later. Right now, I want my mouth all over you.”
He settled between her legs, his hard length rubbing against her panties in a way that made her shiver. His lips danced over her collarbone and then brushed over the stiff peaks of her nipples. She arched her back as the tingle of electricity shot straight to her core. While he wrapped his lips around her nipple and tugged, his other hand teased her free nipple, drawing it into a tight bud.
Lucia arched and bucked into each caress even as Noah whispered against her flesh. “You taste so good, princess.” He slid his hand down over her ribs, to her hips, then to the juncture of her thighs. When his fingers moved the cotton to the side, she arched up trying to pull his fingers inside where she wanted them. Noah was happy to oblige, thrusting two fingers deep.
With a strangled curse, he pulled back long enough to yank her panties down her legs. Lucia sat up slightly, struggling to unhook her bra. There was nothing she wanted more than to feel his skin against hers. Noah reached behind her to assist and then threw the bra over his shoulder.
He looked down to where her legs had fallen open and his lips curled up briefly before he slid down and kissed the top of her mound. His tongue found her clit at the same time as his fingers found their way back home. Lucia moaned, and her head fell back at the dual sensations of being licked and penetrated.
“Always so wet for me,” Noah murmured appreciatively.
Lucia didn’t have time to be mortified by the comment because he added his thumb to the equation, circling and rubbing until all the energy in her body shattered into a million fragments of light and heat. He stayed with her as she bucked beneath him, his tongue lashing over and over, drawing every bit of sensation from her.
“Noah, please!”
All she could do was cling to his shoulders as waves of pleasure rolled through her, spreading from the top of her head down to the very tips of her toes. When she could finally open her eyes again, Noah was watching her with a look of dark satisfaction.
“Look at me, princess. I want to see your eyes.”
As soon as their eyes met again, he climbed up her body and arranged her legs over his shoulders. Lucia gulped in air, trying to ready herself for him to take what he wanted. When Noah made love, he didn’t hold anything back and she was so ready for it. He didn’t seem to think that she could handle his deepest secrets, but she knew that no one else could ever accept him the way she could.
His hands settled on either side of her face. “I love you, Lucia.”
She gasped at hearing those words for the first time and then again when he thrust deep. The position allowed her no room to hide and she felt tears well in the back of her eyes. Not from pain but from the stark intimacy of taking him this way, looking deeply in his eyes, accepting everything he had to give.
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He whispered it over and over as he took her hard, like he was afraid that if he didn’t say it enough that it wasn’t real.
But that had been Noah’s only exposure to love, hadn’t it? Something that didn’t last, something that could be taken away from you at any moment. Tenderness swelled inside for this gentle giant of a man who was so afraid to love but had so much of it to give. Lucia’s orgasm broke and she sobbed against his shoulder at the intensity of it.
Noah stilled and she felt him shuddering as his own pleasure took over. She wrapped her arms around him, never wanting to let go of what they’d found together.
For years, Lucia had dreamed about this, making love to him with no reservations. Now it was here and she could hardly believe this was her life. That she could touch him, kiss him, and hold him whenever she wanted, seemed too good to be true. But maybe the universe was done torturing her and she was finally going to get her happy ending.
A shot rang out.
Lucia moaned and tossed her head back and forth. She didn’t want to see what happened next. For the first time, she was aware that she was dreaming but could do nothing to stop the horrible images from unfolding before her. Lucia sobbed silently as she watched Rafe rummage through the glove compartment of his car, knowing what was coming next.
“Stay here. No matter what, okay?”
In her dream, Lucia smiled. She remembered thinking that her brother was always so worried about everything and that he really needed to learn to relax.
“Okay, fine. But really, where am I going to go?”
“I’m serious, Lulu.”
Rafe pressed a gun into her palm and Lucia gasped. She’d never held a gun before, and the cold metal seemed so heavy in her hand.
“Take this. If something happens…you drive out of here as fast as you can.”
“Rafe, I can’t drive yet.”
“I’ve taught you enough. Just drive, Lu. As fast as you can.”
A shot rang out.
Lucia tossed her head and whimpered.
“Rafe!”
She wanted to protect him, to hold him close but where his body was supposed to be, there was nothing but blood. It flowed around her in rivers that threatened to sweep her away. She raised the gun and fired.
“I love you. Come back,” she sobbed, looking around desperately for her brother’s body but it was too late. He was gone.
A shot rang out.
Suddenly, she saw the events happen with crystal clear precision, something that had never happened before. The man who’d shot her brother stood right in front of her, and she could see his profile clearly. Tall, dark hair, and so handsome. She’d come to love him over the past few years as much as she loved Rafe. Suddenly, his face morphed from a blur into Noah’s face.
Lucia trembled in her dream, watching as the shot rang out and Noah jerked. She’d shot him. The shock of it was so horrifying that she woke up with a scream on her lips.
She turned her face into her pillow and sucked in a desperate breath. Noah slept next to her unaware, and she calmed herself by concentrating on the idea that dreams were just her mind’s way of coping with the tragedy. It was just so strange for her mind to torment her by replacing the things she couldn’t remember with Noah’s face. Was it because of the recent changes in their relationship? Was she feeling guilty for moving on with Noah instead of searching for her brother’s killer?
The explanation actually made sense and helped to slow her racing heart. Maybe it was time to listen to Nonna for once and go back to the therapist she’d seen right after Rafe’s death. If she was ever going to move on and live her life, she had to come to terms with things. It wasn’t abandoning her brother to want a normal relationship with a man who loved her. She was finally on the verge of getting everything she’d ever wanted, and she didn’t want to let her fear
hold her back.
Noah shifted slightly, and she could tell when he woke up because he stiffened, probably unused to having someone in bed with him. He’d confessed once, after she’d teased him about being a ladies man, that he’d never shared a bed overnight with anyone.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered.
“Nothing. Just a bad dream. Sorry I woke you.”
“Come here, princess.” He held out his arm.
Determined to move past the horror of the nightmare, she curled up against him, resting her head on his chest. The solid beat of his heart lulled her until she could breathe easily again.
“Better?”
“Yeah. I’m glad you’re here, Noah.” She knew he didn’t relax easily and knew what a big deal it was for him to spend the night with her.
“I’ll always be here for you, Lucia. No matter what.”
Completely content, she closed her eyes and ran her hand over the muscular planes of his chest. He was so beautifully made, and she took her time tracing the dips and curves of his abs, working up over the flat muscles of his pecs and the sharp points of his collarbone. Her fingers skimmed over a mass of rough flesh on his shoulder. Lucia’s brow furrowed as her fingers dipped into the hard knot of skin. It almost felt like…a bullet wound.
She swallowed the sudden sense of unease. Noah was always chasing bad guys; of course he’d probably have bullet wounds. But her fingers kept tracing the skin over and over, and suddenly she was slammed with another image from her dream.
Her own hand holding the gun and then the kick of the weapon as she’d pulled the trigger. She watched as Noah jerked and his hand flew up to cover the wound on his shoulder. Their eyes met, and she’d seen the fear, shame, and guilt in his eyes.
Lucia sat up slowly, horror turning her blood to ice as she stared down at Noah’s chest, fully illuminated by the moonlight coming through the window. She touched the scar again, and then Noah turned to look at her.
“It was you.”
Noah and Lucia’s story continues in SHAMEFUL! >
SWEET CRAZY SONG
Theresa Leigh
Sweet Crazy Song
Theresa Leigh
The small town of Crown Creek is too small for Jonah King's huge ego.
He's everything I'm not. He's everything I hate. And now, he's everything I hate... to love.
My best friend's older brother is a huge rockstar now. If he believes that lets him get away with screwing over his family the way he did, he's wrong.
I always hated what he did to them. I always hated him.
But then he shows up again. A different man from the one I remember. He's humbled. Grieving.
Lost.
And suddenly I’m singing a different tune.
Instead of shouting, I’m saying, “touch me.” I’m saying, “kiss me again.” I’m saying, “please… please.”
I’m saying, “I had you all wrong. And I’m sorry."
But I want a future and there’s no future with Jonah King. I’m a small-town kindergarten teacher and he’s a big time celebrity. We come from different worlds.
But the music we make together is too beautiful to ignore.
ABOUT THERESA LEIGH
Theresa Leigh is a romance author whose love of reading is so intense, she sometimes injures herself by walking around with her nose in a book. She loves writing stories that have you feeling every emotion... sometimes all on the same page.
Theresa lives and writes in the beautiful Finger Lakes region of New York State (not the city) (that distinction is important to her), where she lives with her husband, twin sons and twin orange cats, Pumpkin and Jackie O’Lantern. When she's not writing or reading, she enjoys eating too much Thai food, walking around barefoot, and cooing baby talk at her cats.
To Nancy
I’m a little broken
I hope you understand
Can you take me as I am?
Can you take me as I am?
God know I ain’t perfect
It’s not like I had planned
Can you take me as I am?
Can you take me as I am
Johnny Black - ‘Take Me As I Am’
1
Ruby
The piano music died away. There was a stray cough that sounded like Principal Donovan's persistent dry hack. Then, silence.
After a moment, Foster King stood up. His family watched him as he stood at the end of his row of chairs, unfolding a piece of torn notebook paper and smoothing it on his thigh before he walked stiffly to the podium in front of us.
I leaned back and blinked. Watching him meant I had to look at Gideon's casket for the first time. This was the funeral for the man who filled some of the empty space my father left when he died. Not all of it. Who could have?
But now the emptiness was the size of two dads.
My ribs were stuck in place, not expanding or retracting, glued with grief.
When she heard me take a deep, desperate breath, my friend Willa reached over and covered my hand with hers.
"You're okay," she mouthed.
Always the mother hen, even at a funeral.
She handed me a tissue. Then reached past me to hand one to Sadie on my left.
Sadie took it without looking. Her eyes were far away, dreaming of some place nicer than this. A funeral home on a gray November day.
I wiped my nose and Willa nodded. “You're okay," she repeated. Like the force of her love could make it true.
I nodded back, my eyes filling with tears. But she was wrong. I wasn't okay. Gideon was in that box. My second chance at a father figure, my mentor… and he was gone.
People thought we were strange. I got that. A twenty-three year old woman and a forty-six year old man shouldn’t have been such good friends. Especially without a trace of the weirdness that usually plagues male / female friendships.
Gid always said it was because I was an old soul and he was a big kid. I always told him he was right, then admonished him to sit up straight before he threw his back out.
He’d always roared with laughter at that.
I’d never hear that laugh again.
That hurt the most. That a man like Gid could just...end.
What was I supposed to do now?
I dragged my eyes back up to the podium. Away from that box where Gideon lay silent and still,
Mr. King cleared his throat. "Thank you all," he said into the small mic. His voice caught at first, then grew stronger. "I am glad to see all the people here today. My little brother was a hard guy to get to know." His voice caught again. "But an easy guy to love."
Up in the front row, Mrs. King nodded at her husband. Claire shifted down in her seat and rested her head on her mom's shoulder, allowing her mother to absently muss her blonde hair.
I felt a twinge under my ribs to see her so far away from Willa, Sadie, and me. Of course, I understood she needed to be with the rest of her family. After all, Gideon was her uncle. He’d lived on their property. But it always made me feel unstable when one of the four of us was absent. Wobbly - like a bench missing a leg.
So I kept an eye on her the whole time her father spoke. I kept an eye on all of the Kings.
The ones who had bothered to show up, any way.
Next to Claire, her brother Beau sat up straight as he listened to their father. Finn, his twin brother, was leaning so far forward I couldn't see his face.
But I could see their brother Gabriel's face all right. And immediately looked away.
I knew exactly why his face was dark with fury. Because there were only three King brothers sitting there.
Because the seat next to his was empty.
"I know Gideon wouldn't want us to let our sadness cloud the good memories," Mr. King said. His voice was fading and he had to raise it to be heard over the sound of the wind picking up outside. When it cracked from the strain, I could feel the tears starting to track their way down my cheeks.
Willa silently handed me another tissue.
>
Sadie quietly blew her nose.
"We all loved him," Mr. King concluded. "And I know he loved all of us."
He glanced towards the back, his gaze lingering there for a moment.
I held my breath, not daring to turn.
Was Jonah here? Had the missing King brother finally returned?
But Mr. King shook his head. He looked down again, disappointment flickering across his face. "We're gonna miss you, Giddyup," he said, gruffly patting the casket. "I hope the angels can handle your singing."
Nervous titters rippled up from the crowd. People shuffled their feet and Principal Donovan coughed again. With Mr. King’s eulogy over, it was time for someone else to speak.
Everyone turned to Isobel Tanner. But she showed no sign of moving. She just stared straight ahead, a dazed look of disbelief on her face.
Dizzy Izzy, as she was known throughout town, was Gideon's long-term girlfriend. At twenty-eight, she was eighteen years younger than him, much closer to my age than his. I felt a burst of sympathy to see her hunched shoulders. She looked so frail without her man at her side. They'd been together ten years, the only love she'd ever had. To hear Gid tell it, it had been the only one he'd ever had, too.
A hot knife of anger twisted in my gut again. This wasn’t fair. Izzy was fragile. Gid always harped on how fragile she was. She should be selling her herbal tinctures at the Winter Market right now. She should be smiling at all the bundled up kids and touching their heads. She should be waiting for Gid to pull up in his van to collect her, ready to leap into his arms. This shouldn't have happened to her and it made me so angry that it had.