I grin. He never forgets our anniversary, and he always buys me a bouquet of the most beautiful roses and lilies.
He sets the vase full of flowers on the coffee table and takes a seat next to me on the sofa. I lean over and let him pull me into his welcoming arms.
"Happy anniversary, my love." He kisses the top of my head and pulls me just a little tighter against his firm chest. I wrap my arms around him and kiss him on the chest over his beating heart.
"Happy anniversary to you too. I love you."
"I love you more." I giggle at his words. He always says that.
"What were you watching?"
"Our wedding DVD."
"Ah ...”
I pull back a bit so I can look at him. "Do you want to watch it with me?"
He grins and gives me a suggestive look. "I can think of something else I'd rather do."
I laugh and move to kiss him. The touch of our lips still makes my heart take off like a rocket. Being in love with someone who loves you just as much is the best feeling in the world. Outside the love I hold for my daughters, Will is the most important person in my life––and I wouldn't change that for anything in the world.
He raises from the couch, pulling me up into his arms as he does. "As a matter of fact, I can think of nothing else I want more for my anniversary than you beneath me." He kisses me as he walks toward our bedroom.
I giggle. "Is that so?"
"Yes, my insanely sexy wife. It most definitely is."
"You're insatiable."
He pauses, eyeing me with a heated gaze. "For you my love––Always." We kiss and when our lips part, he says, "Don't you know?"
My brow furrows. "Know what?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"In all the chaos and noise that is life, you are my whisper of solace. Forever and always, Ms. Scott."
We kiss heatedly as he carries me to our bed, where he makes wild and passionate love to me.
I'll love this man––Forever and always.
Sneak Peek
Desire's Deception
K. J. Coakley
Warning
18 And Over Content
This book contains adult sexual content and is not appropriate for minors.
This book contains BDSM and S&M content.
Prologue
Life is a series of chances and regrets
Choice and consequence
Love and loss
Life is a series of hopes and dreams
Passage and obstruction
Surrender and pursuance
Life is a series of preludes and finales
Hollow and full
Memory and oblivion
Life is indeed a series of events
Regardless of the burdens today
Seize hope and persevere for tomorrow
Chapter 1
“Derek, where’s my black bra?”
“How am I supposed to know where your bra is, babe? It’s not like I wear the thing.” He looks up from tying his work boots with a naughty grin. “I’m the one who takes them off, remember? And from there I never know where they end up.” He strides over to me and smacks my ass. My whole body tingles from head to toe with awareness when he is near. Just the thought of him taking said bra off sends a shiver through me. I look over my shoulder after fastening my bra, which was hanging in the laundry room, loop my arms around his neck, and plant a wet kiss on his luscious lips. His hands quickly clamp down on my hips, and goosebumps emerge across my bare flesh. He deepens the kiss as a growl rumbles through his chest. I step back and smirk knowingly at the bulge in his jeans.
“Damn, little bit. Now I have to go to work sporting wood and a serious case of blue balls.” I grin at his nickname for me and then saunter to the bedroom as he walks to the front door.
“Now you have incentive to hurry home this evening and quit playing in the trees like a big ape. Love ya, babe!” I yell over my shoulder.
He chuckles, “Love ya, little bit,” and then mumbles something about me swinging from his tree, and then I hear the door click shut.
The drive to work is uneventful. I flip on the radio and listen to some pick-me-up music to get ready for the long day ahead. I pull into my parking spot, lock my Camry, and make the trek across the parking lot into the double doors of Portman Logistics.
After graduating college, I found my niche in logistics, and I’m damn good at what I do. I could have stepped into the role of Vice President at my father's logistics company, but I wanted to carve my own path in life. So, I worked the lower jobs for five years and was finally promoted to head of my department. I have ten good coordinators working beneath me, and a personal assistant who would rather talk about his manicure than the current fuel rate. All in a day's work.
“Hello, Parker,” I call out to him as I step toward his desk.
“Good morning, lovely.” Parker stands to greet me and hands me a stack of printed emails that I need to follow up on, as well as my daily tracker. We work well together. He is my right hand in this crazy mess of cutthroat transportation that we deal with.
Parker is the very definition of a metrosexual man. His black pinstriped suit and pink tie, not to mention pink cufflinks, all but scream, YES, I’M GAY...what of it? But he’s far from simple or transparent. Parker is the only bisexual male that I have ever met, and he takes great pride in educating me about the differences between homosexuality and bisexual beings. He’s also the best assistant I’ve ever had and he loves his job, so we click.
I scoop up my Starbucks off the corner of his desk. We alternate days on who makes the coffee run before work. Fortunately for me, today was his day, and my latte smells divine.
I cross over into my office and sit down at my desk, rummaged through the small stack of papers he handed me, and then begin to prioritize my tasks for the day. Everything seems to be in decent order. No major fires to put out before noon, so I sit back and power up my computer for my daily dose of fuel prices, shipment tracking, and any customer demands we need to meet within a deadline.
After several hours of the mundane tasks, it’s nearing lunchtime. I look down at my cell and notice Derek hasn’t phoned yet. We have a rule that he is to check in with me by lunchtime every day. In his line of work, it's a necessary precaution.
Derek is a tree topper for the state power board. His job consists of him climbing to the very top of a problematic tree and cutting it down from top to bottom. He is constantly in danger and I worry all of the time, but he loves his job and refuses to give it up, so we have come to the agreement that he must phone or text by lunch each day so I don't worry myself sick.
I chew on my bottom lip nervously and hit his speed dial button. The phone begins to ring in my ear as a sense of foreboding overwhelms me. My skin begins to crawl and a dark swirl begins to wreak havoc in the pit of my stomach. After several rings, it goes to voicemail. This has NEVER happened, and I am immediately on alert. I end the call and quickly phone his area supervisor, Charlie. He picks up on the first ring...sounds of chaos in the background.
“Charlie. Where's Derek?” My voice strains as I barely choke the next sentence out. “Is he okay?”
Men are yelling, and I hear the distinct sound of chainsaws buzzing. Charlie’s breathing is rapid as the words spill from his mouth. “There’s been an accident, little bit.” My heart stops. Black spots fill my vision and my hand is shaking so bad that I drop my phone. I feel the blood drain from my face and bile rise to the back of my throat.
Parker runs into the office after having seen my episode through the glass partition. He picks up my phone and hands it back to me as he ushers me to sit down.
“Marissa...Marissa, are you still there?” Charlie is yelling over the phone, but I can’t muster the words to answer him. I know something bad has happened to Derek and it feels as if someone is slowly sucking my soul from my chest.
I can’t breathe.
Everything is getting blurry and my heart is kicking so hard that it feels lik
e it's going to explode.
I would know if he was dead. I would feel it. Wouldn’t I? He’s my soul mate. I would feel it if he was dead, dammit. Oh god, please don’t take him from me. I can’t live without him. The thoughts run through my mind with lightning speed, and in a matter of seconds, I’m asking the dreaded question.
“Charlie, is he alive?” I stutter the words, but he understands and quickly responds back. “He’s alive—but it’s bad. I’m not going to lie to you, so prepare yourself for the worst. They’re rushing him to St. Claire's hospital.” He clears his throat. “He’s busted up...in a bad way. They just loaded him into the ambulance. Do you want me to swing by and pick you up, or do you have someone who can take you?” The noise of a truck rumbling fills the phone as the world around quiets with the closing of his truck door.
My mind is all over the place, but somehow I go into reaction mode and shut down my emotions. It’s as if I’ve flipped a switch and the tears that I didn’t realize were spilling down my cheeks are drying up. I swipe them with the back of my hand and clear my throat. “I’m on my way.” I end the call and turn to Parker, who is already gathering up my purse and pulling me up from my chair. My car keys dangle in his hand as he ushers me through the office and out the front doors.
Parker drives like a madman, and we arrive at the hospital before Charlie. The ambulance is just pulling up as I run to the Emergency Room entrance. The paramedics pull his gurney out and all I see is red. Blood is everywhere.
Derek is unrecognizable.
His pants are shredded from the waist down. The paramedics have completely cut his shirt off, and his face is a mass of gashes and more blood. His eyes are closed and his mouth is draped open. For a moment, the breath leaves my body in a rush because to my untrained eyes, he appears to be dead.
This is my boisterous husband. The man I had loved since I was fifteen after he gave me a ride home when I missed the bus. The man who took me to my junior and senior prom, made love to me for the first time, and kissed away all of my fears while doing so. This is my Derek lying here and not firing off a line like, “Chill out, baby, it's just a cut. No limbs lost,” as he smiles up at me and his dimples melt my heart. His lighthearted sense of humor manages to erase my anger and put a smile on my face, no matter the situation.
Oh god, I can’t live without him. Oh god, please don’t take him from me. I hear a shrill voice in the distance, and before I know it, Parker has enfolded me in his arms as they wheel the love of my life past us and into the hospital.
He never moves. He never opens his eyes as I scream his name as if it will raise the dead. My arms are flailing and my face is soaked with salty tears as I continue to scream his name. My heart is shattering into a million pieces because I know...I know he’ll never be the same if he comes back from this. My Derek walked out that door this morning never to return to me. “Please god...Please god...Oh, please. I need him. I love him so much.” I choke the words out through a tightening throat as Parker picks me up and carries me into the hospital. The nurses immediately take us to a triage room while Derek is rushed to the OR.
A needle enters my vein as Parker holds me down on the bed. Nurses are flowing in and out of the room. I stare up at the white ceiling tiles—lost in a daze. I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m a mess. Deep mournful sobs that I can no longer control wrack my body. My chest feels as if someone has shot a hole straight through me, and with each tear I shed, my life's blood is leaving me. I cannot live without him. I cannot live without him. I cannot live without him......BLACKNESS. Peaceful. Numbing. Blackness settles over me.
“Ma’am?” A soft touch on my shoulder awakens me. My groggy eyes blink through the medicine-induced fog as I try to collect myself.
“Ma’am? Are you awake?” Her gentle voice coaxes me from the haze and I sit up only to be rewarded with a spinning room and revolting stomach. Before I’m able to warn her off, I puke over the side of the bed and all over her shoes.
Parker leaps from his seat and grabs a towel to clean my mess as I begin to sputter my apologies. The nurse steps back and offers me a reassuring smile. “Don’t you worry yourself. I’ll go clean this off and bring you back something to drink.” She gives a polite nod and leaves the room.
“Are you okay, sweetness?” Parker asks as he finishes cleaning up the mess and chucks the dirty towels into the hamper. I lean back on the bed and push the button to adjust it into a sitting position. His worried eyes collide with mine while he washes his hands and then carefully dries them off, before making his way back over to me.
I quickly pull my eyes from his stare and take in the Band-Aid on the inside of my elbow. A ball of cotton sticks out from under it and I pick the edges as I contemplate the questions I want to ask...but don’t want to ask. I don’t know if I’m ready for the answers yet. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to hear about Derek’s condition. My head is pounding and it feels as if a knot is drawing tighter and tighter in the back of my neck as the tension coils to a breaking point.
The nurse comes back with a can of Sprite and a straw. “Here you go, dear. This will help with that awful aftertaste.” I take the drink from her, pop the top, and plunge the straw down into the clear bubbling liquid. I close my eyes, swallow the refreshing citrus flavor, and try to block the heartache that is ripping my chest in half from my thoughts. It’s an impossible feat, but I try to fool myself into thinking I can control this...whatever it is that I’m feeling.
When I open my eyes again, the can is empty and the nurse has left the room. Parker is texting someone and his brow furrows with concern. Sadness that looks at odds with his masculine beauty lines his usually glowing face.
I set the can down on the side table and swing my legs over the side of the bed. This time the room doesn’t spin and I’m able to stand on my somewhat shaky legs. Parker’s reddened eyes look up at me, and I finally ask, “Did he survive?”
“Marissa.” He releases a heavy sigh and runs his hand through his messy brown locks as his head begins to shake. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but he’s on life support. The doctors are waiting for you...Ah, Christ, this is hard.” He rushes toward me and grabs my shoulders. “There’s nothing left of him. They need your permission to discontinue the life support.” I shake my head and take a few steps back to dislodge his grip from me.
“No. No. He can’t be gone. I’d feel it. I’d know.” My eyes tighten to keep the tears at bay. “He’s my soul mate, Parker. I’d know.” His face crumples at my words and he closes the distance between us, pulling my face to his chest as his arms surround me with warmth.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do to help you, Marissa. I’m complete shit at being the rock. You’re supposed to be the rock...not me. And I don’t know how to be the one to support you when you need it most.” His shoulders shake as he begins to cry.
I wrap my arms around him and finally let my tears flow as he leans down and rests his head on mine. We grieve together in this little room on the side of the ER. We let loose emotions that we have never shown one another, and in doing so, a bond like no other solidifies between the two of us.
Whether he knows it or not, Parker has become my rock.
The hallway seems as if I’m walking a thousand-mile journey to a dreaded fate that awaits me with open arms—ready to drain the light out of my life.
I know what’s at the end of this hall, and even though my lungs feel as if they’re about to burst...I take steady breaths and ready myself for what awaits.
The doors to his room slide open as I pass under the sensor. The stale scent of alcohol and sickness taints the inside of my nostrils and cloys the air with a subtle heaviness that only death itself could conjure.
I blink, for what feels like the first time in hours, and to my surprise, no tears drench my reddened cheeks. My heart beats at an irregular rate—sluggish and drained, just like the body lying in front of me with tubes coming out of his mouth and IVs running into his darkened veins
.
The machines beep.
The IV drips.
And I can’t bring myself to take in the reality in front of me. I expect his eyes to open because he’s supposed to feel my presence.
He’s supposed to know that I’m here.
And still, my heart beats even though my mind is telling me that it should be breaking wide open. The life bursting from the dam that held my love for him deep inside my soul. The connection between us feels weak at best. I can’t sense his essence near me.
“Derek?” I whisper through a broken voice.
I approach his bedside with cautious steps. I don’t know why but it feels as if his fragility extends to everything around him. As if I step too hard, he’ll crumble inside and his will to live will shatter with the breaking of silence all around us.
I look down at my shaking fingers as I reach for his still ones.
I gasp out loud and nearly drop his hand when my warm ones are met with his eerily cold and lifeless touch.
A touch that used to caress me on the worst of my days and bring joy to me with the slightest connection.
My bottom lip begins to tremble as a tidal wave of emotions crashed over me.
“Oh, Derek.” I cry out as I crawl into bed with him and wrap my arms around him as best I can without disturbing the multitude of lines connecting him to various machines.
“Please don’t leave, Derek. I love you so much and I can’t live without you. Please...” I choke on a sob. “Please fight to stay with me.” And then the tears I thought I had held at bay begin to fall anew.
I cling to my husband as if I would die without him. Because that’s exactly what it feels like.
Like I’m dying inside.
I look up at his swollen face through blurry, tear-filled eyes, and he is unrecognizable. His eyelids are swelled shut and the whole left side of his face is covered with nasty purplish and blue bruises. The right side of his head has been shaved and a drain tube has been inserted to relieve the pressure caused by a massive hematoma.
A Whisper Of Solace Page 20