Love Is In the Air Volume 1

by Susan Stoker

  “Yes!” she cried, arching into me. “Yes, Lincoln, I want it all, and I want it with you.”

  Born to give her every single thing she wanted and desperate to give her me, I slammed my mouth to hers. Her hands immediately flew to my hair, and I let her hold on for a second before I grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed. She struggled, but I cupped one of her breasts. Lifting it, I suctioned my lips over her pebbled nipple.

  “Oh, God!” Her head thrashed, and I moved to the other one and then back.

  While my mouth was busy, I trailed the tips of my fingers down until I got to the heart of her. Her flimsy panties were soaked, and I rubbed a knuckle over the material. “Shit,” she panted, opening her legs, silently begging for more as I twisted and tugged until the thong easily snapped and fell away.

  I released her wrists and moved down her body, kissing and licking, nipping and biting her soft skin on the way down. My knees hit the floor with a thud, and I tossed her legs over my shoulder, then closed my mouth over her clit and sucked.

  A growl tore up my throat when her divine taste hit my tongue, and I pushed my dick into the end of bed, feeling the precum leaking out of my slit and rubbing against my stomach as I ground my hips, desperate for even a little relief.

  Her thighs shook and quivered around my head, and I’m pretty sure she screamed my name, but my ears were roaring so all I heard were her cries of pleasure.

  I flattened my tongue and lapped up every drop of her I could until she was pushing my head away and pulling it closer at the same time, her heels digging into my back as she urged me to come up. I had nothing but clean to give her, and I knew from seeing the contents of her purse that she was on the pill, so when I crawled onto the bed, I didn’t hesitate to spread her open and slide inside her in one long thrust.

  Her back arched off the bed, and I ripped off the tie, gazing down at her flushed face in ecstasy as I pumped in and out, slow, deep, so fucking hard. “You feel so good, Oakley. So slick and so warm, so motherfuckin’ tight I don’t think I can stop.”

  “Don’t. Please, don’t ever stop.”

  Dropping to my forearms, I framed her head and kissed her until the pleasure and the pressure were too much. My head fell to the crook of her neck, and even though it might have suffocated me, I sucked on her skin, needing to mark her any way I could.

  She scraped her nails down my back, and I faintly remember hoping she’d draw blood because I was animalistic for her, and I wanted her to be the same for me. I rotated my hips, rubbing her clit with every wave of motion, and it only took a minute for her eyes to roll in the back of her head and her body to shake and quiver. Her orgasm soaked me, so I slid in even farther, causing her to release a silent scream.

  I didn’t want to lose her for even a second, but I needed to get deeper. I needed to own her, so I pulled out and flipped her to her stomach as she was still trembling. From behind, I yanked her hips up, found her, and fought to get inside since her walls were still spasming. As soon as I got back in, she clamped around me so tight my spine vibrated, and I pumped into her until I couldn’t drag out the sheer perfection of making love to her any longer and exploded inside her.

  Falling on top of her, we both panted, and her legs twitched. I pushed up with one hand and moved her hair off her face, gripping her chin and turning her head so I could see her. It took effort to even move, but I had to look into her eyes. I needed to see her face. I had to know she was okay. I was rougher than I wanted to be—not just because it was our first time but because it was her. Because she was so delicate and beautiful, and she deserved to be worshipped and cherished, not thrown on the bed and fucked like an animal.

  But I couldn’t help myself, and by how many times she came and by the sated, satisfied look on her face, I’d say she liked getting fucked almost as much as I liked fucking her. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she breathed.

  I hesitantly slid out of her, barely softened, missing her heat instantly, and rolled her to her back before I cupped her jaw. “I wasn’t gentle with you. You sure you’re okay?”

  “I liked it.”

  “I know you did.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Stop being cocky.”

  “Let’s go take a shower, then you can soak in the tub while I order some food.”

  “I don’t think I can move.”

  “I’ll carry you.”

  I wasn’t sure why I offered because my legs were actually weak with what I’d just experienced with her. Nothing had ever been that good. Ever. Nobody had ever come close, and I knew I’d never find someone who compared. And I didn’t want to.

  But still, I’d never let her fall. My grip would forever be tight and strong as long as I had her to hold in my arms, so I lifted her and reveled in a masculine power that her body was limp and her eyes were still glazed.

  I turned on the water and waited for it to warm before I set her inside, closing the door before I joined her. She let me pamper her, and I took advantage by massaging her scalp, cupping her breasts, and exploring her sensitive pussy while I cleaned her. I wanted to be familiar with every single part of her, and as I was washing her, I let my fingers linger at the tight pucker between her ass cheeks just long enough for her to recognize that I would one day have that part of her, too. She didn’t object, and when she melted into me even more, I knew she understood and wanted that as much as I did.

  I made quick work of washing myself, and as she stood under the spray, I turned the Jacuzzi tub on and let it begin to fill. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I reached in and shut the shower off, then held her hand as she took the couple of steps to the tub and sat down.

  “Stay with me.”

  I looked down at her, surprised she asked. “Babe, I don’t do baths.”

  “Please. Just for a little while.”

  I’d do anything for her, and she was going to discover that particular weakness of mine very soon. “Fine.” I bent down to kiss her. “But let me order room service first.”

  “Okay.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Fries.”

  I nipped at her lip, then finally pulled away. “Just fries?”

  “With ranch. Please. Oh, and something to drink. Water’s fine.”

  “I’ll get you a Diet Coke.”

  “How’d you know I like Diet Coke?”

  “You can ask that question, but you know the answer.”

  She sighed with a smile. “Occupational hazard?”

  “Being a bodyguard may help with my observation skills, but it has nothing to do with why I know you like Diet Coke, or how I know that you like old-school rap, or only wear white or black nail polish, or have an obsession with cherry lip gloss, or don’t like to wear socks. I know all of those things because I’ve been into you for a long time.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know how you didn’t know that.” She fought a smile and bit her lip, and I crouched down so I could look into her eyes. “If it wasn’t obvious already, you’ve got me by the balls, Oakley. It’s cute as hell that you’re shy about it, but you’ll need to break yourself of that soon because when you bite your lip like that, all it does is make me want to kiss you. And if I kiss you, I’m gonna end up inside you, so unless you wanna get fucked constantly, get used to it.” She licked her lips teasingly, and I kissed her, smiling. “Smart-ass.” I hoped that was what I had to look forward to, that playful side to her that I hadn’t much seen but caught glimpses of.

  I went to order some food, and when I got back to the bathroom, I found her sleeping. She looked so peaceful and so beautiful that I didn’t want to wake her. I made sure there was a robe and a towel and then left the door cracked and got dressed into a pair of pajama pants and a white tank top while I waited for the food. After I turned on the TV, I sat on the bed for a minute before I heard her moving around in the bathroom.

  Assuming she’d want some privacy, I stayed put even though it was difficult because what I reall
y wanted to do was join her in there and give her another reason to get dirty so I’d have to clean her off in the shower again. She came out of the bathroom in the fluffy white robe, looking like an angel, and walked shyly to the bed.

  “You okay?” I asked, standing and taking her hand, gently tugging her toward me.

  “Yeah.”

  Just then, there was a knock on the door, and I urged her to sit. I didn’t want anyone to see her dressed like that, so once she was on the bed, I threw a blanket on top of her. “Be right back. Don’t move.”

  After I got the food, we ate in bed and watched an old movie. I sensed she wanted to slow things down, and the last thing I wanted to do was scare her away. Once I made sure the door was locked and shut all the lights off, I pulled her into my arms, where it just felt so right I knew every woman before her was wrong.

  We didn’t say much, but there really wasn’t a lot that needed to be said. I already knew almost everything there was to know about her, and she knew enough about me that we didn’t need small talk. There was no awkward silence or forced conversation. It was just about us being together, finally content in a place where we both wanted to be for a long-ass time.

  She fell asleep with her head on my chest, and I went to bed the happiest man in the world, more relaxed and optimistic than I ever have been in my entire life. The girl of my dreams in my arms, her hair in my face, her body pressed tight to mine. The feel of her was like a drug, and I just wanted more. I wanted all of it… all of her, and I knew I’d never be satisfied without her in my system. I already had craved her, but after having a taste, getting a shot, I was gifted with the knowledge that nothing was better.

  I held her tight and slept soundly… so soundly that I didn’t notice when she snuck out in the middle of the night and left me to wake up all alone.

  A Note From The Author

  To read more about Lincoln and Oakley, you can preorder their book here:

  https://annabrooksauthor.com/books/link/

  * * *

  Find Olive’s story here:

  https://annabrooksauthor.com/books/bulletproof-butterfly/

  * * *

  Or meet Lincoln in his sister’s story here:

  https://annabrooksauthor.com/books/justifying-jamie/

  The Offer

  Becca Steele

  1

  Victoria

  PAST

  Wedding day

  * * *

  Facing the double doors that would lead me to my future husband, everything inside me screamed that I was making a mistake—that there was still time to back out. But, as always, my mother’s face came into my mind, with the words she’d constantly drummed into me.

  “Ralph is a good catch, Victoria. He’ll treat you well, and his connections are incomparable. You’ll be a good match. He thinks the world of you, you know.”

  Did he? I wasn’t sure. Not anymore.

  Our relationship had been a whirlwind. I’d been swept off my feet by this handsome, charming man, who knew all the right words to say and was offering the security I’d longed for. My father had passed away when I was fourteen, and it had hit us all hard—me, my mother, and my older brother, Ethan. I’d been adrift for so long, and when I’d met Ralph Chamberlain-Rees at one of the society parties that my mother had dragged me to, I was instantly drawn to him. Tall, blond, with a slim build, he was ten years older than me and had a career as a successful hedge fund investor. In short, he was the perfect catch…on paper.

  We’d dated for two months before he proposed, and still swept up in the newness of our relationship, I’d said yes immediately.

  Then, the cracks had begun to appear. Rumours of my fiancé playing away from home on his business trips, whispers of a gambling addiction…soon the stories became more frequent, to the point where I began to question what I knew of my future husband.

  I’d chosen to believe Ralph when he’d told me that there was no truth to the rumours, but the knot in my stomach never went away.

  Now, next to me, my brother shifted on his feet. There was no love lost between him and Ralph, and he’d made his opinions clear to me ever since I’d announced my engagement.

  “V? It’s not too late to back out, if you want to.” He lowered his head to look down at me, concern clear in his gaze.

  Tears filled my eyes, and I bit my lip, hard. “No. I’m doing this.”

  I squared my shoulders and focused on the doors leading into the drawing room.

  My future husband awaited me.

  I didn’t know what it was that had led me to go back to mine and Ralph’s lavish suite when I was supposed to be toasting my new marriage with some of my bridesmaids. Ralph was elsewhere, supposedly playing poker with a number of his groomsmen and friends. I’d given an excuse about wanting to change out of my wedding dress into something more comfortable, but something—call it a premonition, maybe, led me up the sweeping staircase of the manor house. As I opened the heavy wooden door with the big, old-fashioned iron key, I heard a moan, followed by a grunting sound, and the key fell from my hand onto the soft carpet. Slipping off my shoes, I moved, barefoot, through the suite in the direction of the bedroom.

  There was my new husband, lying on our bed among tangled sheets, gripping the head of a woman with long, chestnut hair while she went down on him, both of them fully naked.

  As I stood frozen in the doorway, he looked up, and his eyes met mine. His already pale face drained of all colour, and his mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

  Clapping a hand over my mouth, I stumbled backwards.

  Then, I fled the suite.

  I was barely able to make it to the loos before the nausea overtook me.

  Much later that night, I dared to return, after an awkward conversation with the front desk about the loss of my key. Ralph was nowhere to be found.

  I stood, staring at the rumpled bed sheets, wondering how and when I’d misjudged things so badly.

  My marriage was over before it had even begun.

  2

  Jake

  PAST

  One year ago

  * * *

  The angry roar of the crowds fueled the despair fizzing through my blood. 34-24. The London Hawks had lost to the Worcester Warriors, taking us one step further away from the top of the Premiership. I’d been sent off fifty minutes into the game for foul play. Fucking Matthews knew just how to push my buttons, and when I’d been shown the red card, my teammates had to hold me back from going for him again.

  The usual post-match interviews came and went in a blur, and then I was finally showered and changed, ready to get out of there. Ignoring my teammates, I headed for the back exit and escaped onto the streets of London unnoticed. My hood pulled up, I kept my head down until I was safely inside my destination, a large busy pub on the river. A pub far away from the rugby ground, where the clientele was less likely to recognise me.

  I was alone, but that was the way I wanted it. I needed to drink. To forget that this loss, that my actions, could cost us the season.

  Stepping up to the bar, I ordered a shot of vodka.

  Then another.

  Until everything disappeared into a blurry haze.

  “Jake! Do you think your actions cost the Hawks the match?”

  A roar of rage tore from my throat as the camera was shoved in my face, the reporter crowding me against the outside wall of the pub, leaving me with no escape.

  “Get the fuck out of my face!” Shoving him with all my strength, I sent him sprawling into the road, where a car had to make a sudden swerve, the driver leaning angrily on the horn.

  “You’ll regret that.” The reporter spat his threat at me, climbing to his feet. He’d managed to keep hold of his camera, and through my blurry vision I noticed him lifting it and pointing in my direction.

  That did it. Launching myself at him, I ripped the camera from his hand, throwing it across the pavement, then punched him for good measure. I was drunk, and my punch was no more tha
n a glancing blow off his chin, but as soon as I’d done it, I realised my mistake.

  People had begun to crowd around us, holding their phones up, capturing every moment of my altercation with the reporter.

  Fuck.

  By the following morning, my reputation, already shaky, had been cemented.

  I was branded as rugby’s bad boy, and the tabloids were out for blood.

  3

  Jake

  PRESENT

  * * *

  “My hands are tied. The board have spoken, and there’s nothing I can do. If you want to stay on the team, you need a drastic change. Now. Are you sure you don’t want me to hire you a publicist? She can have you—”

  “For the last time, no. It was no the first time you asked me, and it’s still fucking no,” I growled, pushing my chair back and storming over to the window. From behind me, I heard Drew, my manager, sigh wearily.

  “You need to do something, Jake. You’re one of our best players. But you’re at the point where your antics could cost you your career. The board are talking of trading you to a lower-division team.”

  I stared out over Wells Way Stadium, home of the London Hawks premiership rugby team, and my home for the past three years. Being a professional rugby player was all I’d ever wanted. To know that my career was in jeopardy thanks to some stupid fucking headlines? The tabloids were obsessed with me, nicknaming me “rugby’s bad boy.” Most of the shit they spouted was complete lies, but people were either too stupid to see that, or they wanted it to be true, so believed it anyway.