I did love him, probably more than he’d ever know, and somehow, through the mist of delirious desire, I knew that simply saying it wasn’t enough. I pulled away from him, sitting upright on his supine form, still grinding down on him. The pressure was so intense my eyes teared, and I knew I would come soon, come hard and fast, obliterating any orgasm that had come before. Fucking Luke had always been like that...each time another notch higher than the last, but this was beyond fucking. My mother had told me stories of fated mates—of peoples and tribes so connected with nature that they bonded like wolves, forever and unbreakable. I wanted that, and with hum buried so deep inside me, connected so absolutely, I truly believed we could have it.
White spots danced in my vision. Another rush of energy stole over me and Luke drove up from beneath me, his steady thrusts ripping control away from me. Reclaiming it, perhaps, or setting it free. All I knew was that I was a heartbeat away from losing my goddamn mind.
A low scream escaped me. My knees dug into the bed and Luke’s hands came to my hips, his blunt nails cutting into my flesh, adding a devilish lick of pain to the heat building inside me. He moved a hand to the back of my head, gripping my hair, and we stared at each other, lost, found, together.
“Luke.”
He groaned and a million sensations went off in my body, like a firecracker in November. His hooded stare of pleasure was my undoing. Orgasm hit me hard and messy, and then he came too, surging inside me with a groan that rattled the walls.
I collapsed beside him, gasping noisily, still shuddering and moaning as aftershocks rippled through me, until it occurred to me that I was probably hurting him. Alarmed, I reared up to find him grinning, his chest heaving, expression as wrecked as I felt. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I am. You’re here.”
He sounded slightly loopy as his head dropped to the pillow and his eyes fell shut, but I got him, and he got me. Maybe this time we really would be okay.
I kissed his cheek and smoothed his messy hair out of his face. “I love you.”
EPILOGUE
Six months later...
Luke
Sandgrove Park was home whatever the time of year, but winter was always magical for me, especially now, when it seemed as though I was experiencing it all for the very first time—the snow on the ground, the frost on the trees, the ground crunching beneath my boots. Mia’s laugh rang out as she pelted Gus with snowballs. Leaning on the railing, watching them across the iced-up lake, I was perhaps as content as I’d ever been.
It did seem a little creepy to be watching them without their knowledge, though, particularly considering the phone call I was waiting on.
I tore my gaze from them and walked back towards my house. My phone rang at the edge of the park. I checked the screen. Billy’s name flashed up and tension rippled through me. I answered without speaking and he gave me the answer I needed without preamble.
“Four years,” he said. “In the secure hospital the defence lawyer kept harping on about. How do you like them apples?”
“Seems fair to me.”
“Seriously?” Billy sounded as disbelieving as I had when he’d volunteered to attend Morgan Benson’s trial. “You body-check a speeding car and you think four years in a cushy hospital is fair?”
“Mate, we’ve been over this. No one gets locked up forever anymore, and don’t you think four years with treatment is better than ten years without? In regular prison there’s every chance he’d come out as fucked-up as he went in.”
Silence, then Billy made a low sound I couldn’t quite decipher. “When did you become so reasonable?”
I crossed the road, ignoring the urge to look both ways a dozen times. “I’m not reasonable, just realistic.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know the half of it. I sat through that trial, man. I know what he—” Billy stopped and sighed. “Never mind. I just don’t think four years is enough.”
“It’s enough for me.”
“What about Mia?”
Now that was a question I couldn’t answer. We’d both given evidence at the trial, but it had been behind a screen, and a non-event as all we’d had to do was recite the facts as we saw them. In my victim impact statement, I’d told the court my only worry was that Morgan Benson wouldn’t get the treatment he clearly needed, that I wasn’t interested in punishment, so the defence had left me alone. And so had Mia. Only Billy had questioned my sanity.
I reached my front door and let myself inside. “I honestly don’t know. I reckon she’ll just be happy when it’s all over.”
“It is over, bro. Is she happy?”
I pictured Mia as I’d last seen her, playing in the snow with the brother I loved almost as much as my own. “Yeah, I think she is.”
Mia
“Four years?”
Luke nodded. “Yup. In the hospital, not the prison.”
“So he really was ill?”
“Yes, but we knew that.”
“No...” I said carefully. “You did. I was still considering the possibility that he was just an evil bastard.”
Luke chuckled and shut the oven door. “I don’t believe that.”
“I don’t care if you believe it or not, it’s true. You’re a better person than me.”
“Doubt it.” Luke came to me, wrapping his warm arms around me. “But I want to be done with this so we can move on with our lives. Can we do that? Please?”
There was nothing I wouldn’t do for him, so I nodded and kissed him, but my mind continued to replay the last six months anyway. Luke’s recovery from his injuries as the real depths of Morgan Benson’s obsession with me had come to light. We’d chosen to focus on us, on Billy, and on our own healing. I was right about Luke being a better person than me, though. It had taken him a split second to humanise Morgan Benson, and I’d spent every day since torn between wanting to shake him and being in awe of the compassionate man I’d missed him becoming.
“Hey.” Luke knocked his head gently against mine. “If there’s something you need to talk about, we can. Don’t lock shit away because I want to.”
“I’m not locking anything away. I want to move on too, but you know I’m going to have a good chinwag with Billy about this, don’t you?”
“Of course you are. Don’t bank on it anytime soon, though. When I spoke to him, he was heading home.”
“To his mystery lover?”
“If you say so.”
I did say so, but Luke respected Billy’s privacy more than I did, so I bottled my gossip for the next time I saw Fran. It gave us something to talk about in the stilted cups of tea we’d taken to sharing on a regular basis. Jesus, was I becoming halfway human? Sometimes I missed the lonely life I’d lived before Luke had reclaimed his hold on my heart, but the feeling was fleeting. My life was full of love and friendship now, and my solitary days were behind me.
Luke trailed kisses down my neck. “What time did you tell Gus to come by for dinner?”
“Six. I think he’s got a date this afternoon anyway.”
“Good. Maybe he won’t show up at all.”
“You don’t mean that.” Of course he didn’t. Feeding Gus was way too much fun, but the prospect of a few hours to ourselves sent a thrill through me. The sensation of Luke’s hard length pressing against my thigh? Yeah. What brother?
Luke unbuttoned my jeans and slid them over my hips. He gripped my thighs and lifted me onto the kitchen counter in one smooth movement. My jeans hit the floor, my underwear too. I made a mental note to retrieve my G-string before Gus came over...my last coherent thought before Luke buried his face between my legs. “Oh!”
My head thwacked the cabinet behind me, but he showed no mercy as he ran his tongue over my clit, circling it again and again until he drove expert fingers inside me. Over and over, he brought me to the brink while I dug my nails into his strong
shoulders and moaned, but eventually, his sinful mouth wasn’t enough.
I dragged him up and yanked his t-shirt over his head. “Fuck me.”
“You think you have to ask?”
“Do it.”
He never refused me anything, least of all this. He thrust inside me and fucked me right there on the countertop, driving inside me until the air was heavy with sex and clean sweat, and I had nothing left but a climax that pretty much put me into a coma.
Luke pulsed inside me, then stilled as he came with a hoarse shout.
He didn’t withdraw, though, and we stayed locked together, kissing like it was the first time, lost in each other. Only the need to breathe drove us apart.
Luke panted against my shoulder, still holding the both of us up. I nuzzled his neck and bit his ear. “Do you think it will always be like this?”
“Like what?”
“So intense. I feel like we’re always chasing something.”
Luke raised his head, his eyes hazy with the post-coital detachment that often sent him to sleep. “We’re not chasing. We’re catching up.”
I hadn’t thought of it like that. Huh. Perhaps that was it. Ten years was a long time to be without something as magical as what we shared.
Luke cupped my chin in his warm hand. “Do you forgive me?”
“What for?”
“For leaving you. I had to go, but I didn’t do right by you, and I’ll never—”
Slowly, deliberately, I pressed my palm over his mouth, silencing him the way he had me so many times. “We don’t look back because it’s not where we’re going. I love you. You love me. And for the first time ever, there really is nothing else.”
* * *
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Connect with Garrett at www.garrettleigh.com
About the Author
Garrett Leigh is an award-winning British writer, cover artist, and book designer. Her debut novel, Slide, won Best Bisexual Debut at the 2014 Rainbow Book Awards, and her polyamorous novel Misfits was a finalist in the 2016 LAMBDA awards. She was again a finalist in 2017 with Rented Heart. In 2017 she won the EPIC award in contemporary romance with her military novel Between Ghosts and the contemporary romance category in the Bisexual Book Awards with her novel What Remains.
When not writing, Garrett can generally be found procrastinating on Twitter, cooking up a storm, or sitting on her behind doing as little as possible, all the while shouting at her menagerie of children and animals and attempting to tame her unruly and wonderful FOX.
Garrett is also an award-winning cover artist, taking the silver medal at the Benjamin Franklin Book Awards in 2016. She designs for various publishing houses and independent authors at blackjazzdesign.com.
Bonus Material available for all books on Garrett’s Patreon account. Includes short stories from Misfits, Slide, Strays, What Remains, Dream, and much more. Sign up here: https://www.patreon.com/garrettleigh
Facebook Fan Group, Garrett’s Den... https://www.facebook.com/groups/garrettsden/
Also available from Garrett Leigh
The Edge of the World
Copyright © 2017 by Garrett Leigh
Shay Maloney is living his dream—on tour with his pirate/folk-rock band. But you can’t know where you’re going until you know where you’re from, and that’s where moody filmmaker and researcher Ollie Pietruska comes in.
The band’s management persuades Shay to let a television company film a documentary about his roots beyond his adoptive Irish family, and Ollie comes into his life knowing more about Shay than Shay’s ever known about himself.
But while Ollie holds the key to Shay’s past, he’s also hiding deep scars. Even as the hardships of the tour bring them closer, Ollie’s demons threaten the blossoming romance. They might both reach the breaking point before Ollie realises he’s been standing on the edge of the world for too long, and it’s Shay who holds the key to his future.
A friends-to-lovers, rock star, road-tripping romance, with a guaranteed happily-ever-after.
To purchase and read this, and for other titles by Garrett Leigh, please visit garrettleigh.com.
Coming soon from Carina Press
and Garrett Leigh
Unforgotten
A long-ago kiss.
A lifetime since.
A love that just needs a chance.
From award-winning author Garrett Leigh comes a forced-proximity contemporary romance about the power of forgiveness, love, and second chances.
Billy Daley hasn’t been home in years, and he likes it that way. He’s just fine on his own—he has a cash-in-hand job at a scrapyard, a half-feral cat to keep him company, and many miles between him, his hometown, and all the baggage that comes with it.
Until the job goes sideways. Suddenly he’s back in Rushmere, working with none other than his brother’s best friend—a man whose kiss Billy can’t seem to forget.
Gus Amour’s memories of Billy Daley are all spiky edges, lips crushed against lips, and a reckless streak that always ended in trouble. But when Billy needs a place to stay, Gus steps in. He’d do anything for the Daley family, including living, and working, side by side with a man who makes his heart beat too fast and his blood run too hot—two things he’s been running from for years.
It doesn’t take long before their easy banter, lingering touches, and heated glances become a temptation too hard to resist. But falling into bed and falling in love are two different things, and love has never come easy to either Billy or Gus. Only when fate threatens to steal away their opportunity for a second chance will they realize they don’t need easy.
They just need each other.
Read on for a sneak preview of Unforgotten, the next book in author Garrett Leigh’s Forgiven series, available February 2021.
Chapter One
Billy
The end of summer always seemed like the end of the world. My favourite cat dashed across the yard with the wind up him, chasing the first of the fallen leaves with limited success, and I mourned the endless evenings when Grey did the same with wily butterflies.
I loved that cat. He was my only real friend. He sat outside my “office” all day and walked me home from the pub every night. On the rare nights I didn’t stay out drinking, he kipped on the stairs outside the caravan I rented at the yard, scowling at me through the windows as if I’d refused him entry when in fact he’d refused to come in.
Workdays were dull as rocks. When customers turned up to dump their junk, or raid the piles of abandoned crap stacked up around the yard, I stood around and pretended to give a shit as I passed cash back and forth and skimmed myself a cut from the top.
When customers weren’t around, I sat in the yard’s porta-cabin and entertained myself on Tinder, messaging blokes I’d never have the bottle to go and meet, and talking up the ladies with similar results. I didn’t get hook-up apps. I mean, I did, as in I understood their function in the new world order, but I couldn’t reconcile myself with a first-time meet for the sole purpose of having sex. I wanted to do it. Maybe. I just...couldn’t.
Perhaps I was shy.
The thought made me laugh out loud. In real life, I was anything but, and struggled to keep my mouth shut in circumstances where my opinion added nothing to the situation but hassle I didn’t have time for. Online, it seemed I was a creeper with blue fucking balls.
A truck pulled into the yard. I abandoned my feline observation post with a heavy sigh and painted my best attempt at an amiable expression onto my face. Though paired with my tattoos, wild hair, and natural mean mug, it probably came off as a scowl. On my way out of the cabin, I caught my reflection in a broken car mirror.
Yup. Definitely a scowl. Must try harder.
Story of my life.
The truck was a Ford Ranger, souped up with giant rims and a spotless paint job—clear signs that whoever got out was going to be a prize wanker. I braced myself but, even with a lifetime behind me, was emotionally unprepared for the absolute helmet that came around the bonnet to meet me. From his gelled comb-over to his pristine Nike Air Max, the bloke was a grade-A twat and had no business rocking up in a muddy, potholed scrapyard.
I suppressed another sigh. “What can I do for you, mate?”
“I’m looking for a water pump kit.”
“For what vehicle?”
“Fiesta.”
“Year?”
“Ninety-one.”
“XR2?”
“Yeah.”
Of course it was, cruiser, no doubt. Burning up and down country roads like a fucking goon. I turned away so I could roll my eyes undetected and led Captain Comb-over to the corner of the yard where engine parts were haphazardly piled under handwritten signs that denoted the manufacturer. “Might have one in this lot.” I pointed at a particularly jumbled stack. “Have a root around. If you find what you need, come get me and I’ll give you a price.”
“You want me to find it myself?”
I took a slow spin around to face the dude again. “Yes, mate. Just like Tesco. I’ll be in the cabin.”
It amused me far more than it should’ve to walk away whistling, but I knew a wanker when I saw one, and there was no way I was getting my hands dirty when I could happily watch from indoors with a brew in my hand.
I retreated to the cabin and stuck the kettle on, only half watching Comb-over pick his way through the piles of junk. My phone buzzed with a text. With its cracked screen, only half the message was visible. Just as well. I didn’t need the daily reminder from the bank that I was terminally overdrawn.
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