Keep This Promise

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Keep This Promise Page 167

by Willow Winters


  She stifles an embarrassed smile. Sam has a boyfriend. First one in ages. Big, husky, state trooper. Mega manly and hot. And younger. She’s a total cougar.

  “No place is more exciting than here with you and my niece.”

  “Yeah, right!” I scoff. “I have eyes. I have seen Barron. And the way you two look at each other. Fire alarms go off.”

  “Sort of like the same way you and Dev look at each other?”

  I pause all movement, wishing she didn’t go there.

  “Dev and I have a history. But we’re friends now,” I inform her sullenly. “Besides, he has a girlfriend.” Some wench named Eileen. Total biker bunny trash not even worth the dirt on his tires.

  “Honey, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He has a girl to keep his bed warm. That man is waiting for you.”

  “No, he’s not,” I disagree, my heart squeezing.

  “Yes, he is. You can lie to yourself all you want. He’s wanted you from the very beginning. Only you, despite what transpired with Reese.”

  “He hurt me.” It’s a lame excuse.

  “You know what I think? He was hurting. I told you what the three of you were involved in was risky. I wish I was wrong. I cared about Reese, too, but don’t deny yourself love just because of what happened in the past. Look at what’s happening in the present.”

  I hate that she’s right. Dev devotes all his free time to Cici and me. He’d rather be with us than anyone else. And as much as I try to ignore it, to tell myself the friend zone is enough, we both know it’s not. Because when we’re alone, the electricity is there. It never disappeared, even when Reese was alive. I always said I would love them both for the rest of my life, and it wasn’t a lie. I just don’t know how to cross back over that threshold. I have Cici to think about now, and how much she loves the man who bathes her and plays with her and spoils her rotten. Who reads Winnie the Pooh to her whenever she asks, which is all the damn time. I would never want to jeopardize what they have. But I don’t want to miss my window of opportunity, either. And it’s closing fast. I see it every day. He moves a little farther away from me and closer to the woman who warms his bed.

  Love two men. Marry one, but spend your life with the other. How twisted can one relationship possibly be? Ours turned into a labyrinth of emotion I’m still trying to navigate.

  “Think about what I said, okay?” Sam gives me a squeeze before she stands up. “I’m going to get laid.”

  “Ewww,” I joke, envious as hell. “At least someone is.”

  “I don’t have to be the only one,” she croons, turning her eyes skywards.

  I sit on my knees and watch her leave, tumultuously conflicted.

  Surprisingly, I put Cici’s bike put together in record time. Why was this so difficult for Dev? I just followed the diagrams. Men.

  With the extra time, I sit on the stairs and listen to him put Cici to bed. He reads two books and even sings as she flip flops to sleep. Bedtime is the worst. She has so much energy, it takes her forever to wind down. I feel his pain, but he seems a glutton for punishment because he’s the one who puts her down every time he’s here.

  I stare out the dark, front windows. It’s barely eight o’clock, but it feels like midnight. Our modest home is in a newer development, but still country enough—no streetlights or sidewalks, the closest neighbor a quarter of an acre away.

  I hear Cici’s door close, and Dev’s light footsteps descend the stairs.

  “Finally asleep.” He sighs as he slips by me.

  “Tenacious, that one,” I comment.

  “Just like her mother.” Dev swipes his leather jacket from the banister.

  I idly wonder if that response is a criticism or a compliment.

  “Big plans tonight?” I pry as he slides on his jacket. He looks hotter than hell in worn jeans, black long-sleeve shirt, and shit kickers.

  “Um…” He fixes his collar. “I’m going out. Yeah,” he relays vaguely.

  I rock back and forth, still seated on the stairs. “That’s good.”

  Dev, sensing my unrest, stands directly in front of me, placing his hands on his hips. God, when I really look at him, like really stare, I see every part of him that I love. His strong stance, ruggedly beautiful face, and unwavering confidence that crosses over into arrogance every now and again.

  “Kayla, is everything okay? Is there something you want to talk about?”

  I peer up at him and his inquisitive—more like anatomizing—expression.

  “No.” I fucking chicken out.

  “You sure?” he probes.

  “Yes.” I’m so antsy I can’t stop wringing my hands together. Just tell him! Say something!

  “Okay.” He steps back, suspiciously. “You know I’m here—” He’s interrupted by the beeping of his phone. He pulls it out of his pocket and reads the message. He types a quick reply, then shoves it away. “Eileen. She’s waiting for me,” he says, suddenly in a hurry.

  Just the mere mention of that skank’s name, and my jealousy erupts like a geyser.

  “Dev!” I snatch his hand abruptly as he turns to leave. The tension in our touch is palpable. He slowly faces me with a disconcerting air. I ignore the pounding in my chest, as we stare silently, the house shaking with emotional turbulence.

  I refuse to let go as I search frantically for something to say. Anything. I just want him to…

  “Stay…” I plead, sincerely.

  Dev’s features contort, no longer stiff with confusion, but softening now with what? Alleviation? Abatement? Want? Desire? Was I wrong to open this door? The look in his penetrating blue eyes is suppressive. He’s deliberating. His breathing becoming heavier as we float silently through the unknown. But we do know. We’ve always known. We know each other. We just have to work our way back again. To that scary, exhilarating, thrilling place where we were once madly in love. His eyes drop to my lips for a quarter of a second before he pounces on me, pinning my body to the stairs. Our lips linger a fraction of a millimeter apart, his pelvis smashed against mine. We’re so close. A familiar warmth spreads through my body, vividly reminding me of the way he feels and the way he tastes. I’m stiff beneath him, awaiting his next move.

  “If I stay, I’m never leaving.” He dangles the ultimatum between our hungry mouths. “I’m not just going to get you off, then walk away.”

  I splinter in a thousand different directions. This is our one moment of truth, and if I refuse, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, I’ll not only have lost Reese, but Dev, too.

  “I never want you to leave again.” I swallow my pride, my fear, my guilt, and all my reservations. This is my last shot, and I’m taking it.

  I close the illusory space between us because even though we’ve been separated, we’ve never really been apart.

  We connect in a kiss so deep, so hot, so impassioned, our jaws stretch, and our tongues twirl in rapturous revolutions. I latch onto the lapel of his leather jacket, imprisoning him against me.

  I need this man like I need air—I need him physically, I need him spiritually, and I need him emotionally. Sam was right. I do need taking care of, as much as I hate to admit it, and Dev will do that. He always has.

  We grind against each other as the heat between us rises, the ache I’ve suppressed for three years charging to the surface.

  I rip Dev’s jacket off as his urgent hands pull at my leggings.

  We tear at each other’s clothes right in the middle of the foyer, heady breaths mingling as we fight to stay connected. It all happens so fast and furiously, my hand jerking Dev’s cock as he fingers me forcefully.

  “I fucking need you. I need you right now.” I don’t even try to play coy. My desire is apparent and pulsating through every limb.

  Dev moans as our mouths mash together, his pulsing cock stabbing into me, stretching me, filling me with one solid blow.

  “Fuck!” I see stars as my pussy latches onto his thick hard length. It’s been so long. So fucking long, and I’m so fucking wet and
desperate and needy.

  “God, Kayla.” He circles his hips, blatantly feeling my expansive want.

  “Please, don’t stop.” I close my eyes and absorb every single spine-tingling thrust.

  “Never.” Dev drives deeper, his cock thickening with each passing second he’s inside me. “I’m never going to stop. I missed you... I love you...” he murmurs over and over. “You’ve always been the one…” His sentences are broken with each physical exertion, but they affect me nonetheless. They’re everything I’ve been dying to hear. A clash of sensation erupts as a blunt, primal, barbaric claiming takes place. Dev pounding into me, suffocating my screams with his mouth.

  It’s sweet fucking affliction as my body succumbs, tightening, tensing. My muscles nearly ripping as I close in on the brink. My core catching fire seconds before the shock of the release.

  “Dev, Dev.” His name becomes a tortured whisper with every hammering thrust.

  “I’m right here.” He locks me in his arms as my nervous system comes to a screeching halt, my pussy clenching painfully as one raging gush alleviates three years of pent-up hostility. The sound that escapes my mouth is shrill, and for a few elongated, euphoric seconds, I’m a paralyzed vessel of erogenous pleasure.

  “Kayla?” Dev mutters my name. His body stiff, still. Plastered against me.

  “Mmm hmm,” I heave, fluttering my eyelashes as he clutches my face. The two of us sweating, panting and shaking, slowly recovering from the fuck-filled frenzy.

  One look is all it takes, one reconnecting, reviving, reawakening look from Dev, and I bleed with emotion.

  Fresh tears form.

  “Kayla, don’t.” He drops a loving kiss on my lips. But I can’t help it. What just happened, it was agonizing relief.

  “I missed you so much. I miss both of you so much.” I sob against him, hiding my face. I’ve been suffering since the moment he left, and I can’t contain the desolation any longer.

  “I know. I’m sorry.” He hugs me tight, peppering kisses wherever he can. “You know Reese didn’t set you up for failure. He knew what he was doing. He knew in the end, it would always be you and me.”

  If Dev had said that to me four years ago, I never would have believed him, but knowing what I do now, he’s right. It was always supposed to be us.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I walked away. But I meant what I said, I’m never leaving. Ever again.” He wipes some wetness away with the pad of his thumb.

  “Good, because I’ll have a very angry three-year-old on my hands if you do.” I laugh through my tears.

  “No one wants that.” He smirks.

  “No,” I agree.

  “Let’s go to bed, butterfly.” He nips at my lips. “I have a lot of time to make up for.” He kisses me indulgently, circling his tongue and his hips, his semi-hard cock still buried deep inside me. “I’m going to make you come all night.”

  My pussy involuntarily clenches, surrendering to just the sound of his husky voice. I willingly hand myself over, eager for Dev and all his dark desires.

  Dev

  “Oomph!” I wake up to a twenty-two-pound sack of sugar on my chest. Cici giggles, her big blue eyes inquisitive and alight. “Morning, munchkin.”

  She looks back and forth between a sleeping Kayla and me, trying to figure out what I’m doing her in her mommy’s bed.

  Cici isn’t much of a talker. She’s more a thinker. She absorbs, just like Reese. She shares so many of his tendencies. When I hold her in my arms, I feel a piece of him, my brother, my twin, and that is a precious thing. Both my girls are precious things.

  She shimmies restlessly on my chest in her little pink skull and cross bone PJs. She has a hard time keeping still, which is yet another of Reese’s attributes.

  I place my hands on her hips to calm her, but she only laughs, examining me systematically. This child is going to be a force. I can see it already. She takes her little hand and touches the tattoo over my heart. It’s a pair of steampunk clocks with the guts pouring out. One frozen at the time of Reese’s death, the other at the time of her birth.

  She traces all the springs, gears, and dials fastidiously. “Daddy,” she utters in her tiny voice.

  “That’s right, little one.” I place my hand over hers. Not satisfied, she slips her hand from my grasp and presses the tip of my nose. “Daddy.”

  My heart literally stops. Just dies right in my rib cage. I have never hinted, never even implied. I glance down at Kayla. She’s lying on her stomach, peeking up at us from the pillow. Her eyes are glassy, and there’s a small smile playing on her lips.

  “That’s right, baby.” She pushes herself up, my gaze following her vigilantly, as she gives Cici a kiss. “Daddy.”

  Kayla just destroyed me with one single word. If ever any of my wishes came true, this is the one. The big one. Kayla, a home, a family, and unconditional love.

  Content, Cici grabs the remote off the nightstand and shoves it in my face. “Mickey Mouse!”

  I turn on the television as a happy Cici makes herself comfortable between Kayla and me. I extend my arm so I’m holding both of them, the greatest amount of joy overcoming me. Kayla smiles as she settles back down onto her pillow. It’s a warm, rich expression that will forever be engrained in my soul.

  This is life.

  The very beginning of our life. Mine, Kayla’s, and Reese’s.

  I may have had to scale a mountain to get here, but I’m convinced the best view comes with the hardest climb. And now that I’m sitting atop the highest peak, I’m howling at the moon.

  I’m never letting go again.

  I’m never, ever, letting go…

  * * *

  Thank you for reading! 100% of the profits from this anthology will be given to the Live A Thousand Lives charity.

  This charity donates audio players - equipped with hundreds of hours of classic stories - to low-to-no mobility patients in nursing facilities and hospitals.

  The Live A Thousand Lives Project has been fueled by prolific Romance writers and unabashed book lovers who appreciate that audiobooks boost mental health, improve memory and stimulate the brain in ways that mirror reading printed text.

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  WAYS TO HELP:

  You can donate by clicking here!

  Or you can purchase an audio device for yourself - a Brilliant Blue Classic or a Red Hot Romance Device (with over $200 worth of audios from multiple bestselling authors) by clicking here!

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  Also by M. Never

  Decadence After Dark Series

  Owned: Dark Romance (Decadence After Dark Book 1)

  Claimed: Dark Romance (Decadence After Dark Book 2)

  Ruined: Dark Romance (A Decadence After Dark Epilogue Book 3)

  Lie With Me: Dark Romance (Decadence After Dark Book 4)

  Elicit: Dark Romance (Decadence After Dark Book 5)

  Decadence After Dark: The Complete Collection (Dark Romance box set)

  * * *

  Stripped Duet

  Stripped From You: (Prequel to Strip Me Bare)

  Strip Me Bare: An Angsty Second Chance Romance

  * * *

  A Baum Squad MC Series

  Snowfall: A Slashes in the Snow Prequel (Baum Squad MC)

  Slashes in the Snow: An Enemies to Lovers Motorcycle Romance (Baum Squad MC)

  Aces High: An Angsty Second Chance Motorcycle Romance (Baum Squad MC)

  * * *

  World of Assassins

  Ghostface Killer: Female Assassin Romance

  Dangerously: A Femme Fatale Romance

  Great White: Female Assassin Romance

  * * *

  The Southern Nights Series: A Sexy Sports Romance Series

  * * *

  Standalones

  Moto: A MFM Ménage Romance

  Trinity: A MMF Ménage Romance

  The Billionair
e’s Beginning: A Billionaire Romance

  A.C.H.E.: A Suspenseful MFM Menage Romance

  * * *

  The Rule of Three (A.C.H.E., Moto, & Trinity)

  * * *

  www.mneverauthor.com

  #ProvocativeRomance

  About the Author

  M. Never is a USA Today bestselling author of dark, contemporary, and ménage romance. All her stories have addictive heroes, fierce heroines, hot sex, and page turning plots.

  She has a dependance on sushi, a fetish for boots and is stalked by a clingy pit bull named Apache and a needy pitsky named Kai. Writing is her passion, but readers are her love.

  Acknowledgments

  Moto was a bitch to write. I won’t lie. Three POVs? I won’t even start. Motorcycle racing? I knew zip.

  Like, zero.

  So, I embarked on a journey, immersing myself in hours upon hours of documentaries about MotoGP. Learning about the sport, the culture, and the racers themselves. I have to say I loved every second of it, and now I’m pretty sure I can not only build my own bike, but race it as well. (Maybe not.) I have to thank my husband for letting me interrogate him since I’ve never actually driven a bike. Him, Google, and YouTube were very patient educating me and walking me through the basic steps (like how to turn one on).

  If you do follow MotoGP and are wondering who my inspiration for Reese was, Nicky Hayden would be it. His career was the biggest influence for the character. (Although not based directly on him.)

  I’ll give you a little background as to how this book came to be. I had the idea for almost two years. An idea, and then a picture of a hot guy on a bike. (I never thought in a million years the Michael Stokes photo that helped inspire this novel would actually become the cover one day ---->

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