WrongorWriteBoxedSetstripped

by Sky Corgan

  “You've killed me so many times, ripped my heart out of my chest and teased me, only to rip it out again. It belongs to you. It always has and it always will. The question is whether my body stays with it, or I leave it behind forever. I can't do this anymore. It's one or the other. Either you want me or you don't. Whatever your decision is, I can live with it. It's all or nothing though.”

  “I do want you,” I said softly, shocked by his words. It was like ten years of pain hit me in the face at once. My eyes began to water from empathy. How could I have ever done that to him—to anyone, for that matter?

  “Then marry me.”

  “Why would you want to marry me after all that? You've always been perfect, and I've been horrible to you. I'm not marriage material at all. I deserve to be alone.”

  “Shut up.” The words struck me like a slap. I looked up at him, confused. “You're not making this about you. Not this time.”

  “I just don't understand is all.” I averted my eyes.

  “You don't have to understand. And you don't have to feel like you deserve me. All you need to know is that I love you. My love for you is rooted so deep inside of me, there's probably nothing that would ever change it. I love you unconditionally, kind of like a dog,” his tone took a curious turn, and when I glanced up at him, I couldn't help but laugh through my tears.

  “You're comparing yourself to a dog?”

  “Yeah, actually. The more I think about it, I'm a lot like a dog. I'm sweet and loyal. I like to cuddle and give kisses. And damn do I love sex.”

  I nearly choked on my own tears laughing, and my heart warmed up as I saw him smirk, though I knew the effort was halfhearted.

  “And I want to have lots of puppies,” he added.

  “Puppies? Well, that might be a deal breaker right there unless you literally mean the fuzzy kind.”

  He sat beside me, the mood lightening. “No. I want kids, lots of them.”

  “I had never planned on having more than one.”

  “Come on, Tara. We were both only children. Don't you want to know what having a big family is like?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Bah. Well, it's a detail we can work out later. So, will you marry me? I know this isn't the romantic proposal you were probably hoping for, but it was kind of unexpected, otherwise I would have gotten you a rock so big you wouldn't have been able to lift it.”

  “Bribing me now?” I grinned at him.

  “Something like that. Is it working?” He looked at me.

  “You had me at unconditional love, before the dog part.”

  “So, is that a yes?”

  “Yes, I'll marry you.”

  Despite looking like a zombie, all of Darren's energy seemed to return with my words. He picked me up and spun me around, whopping the whole time like a maniac. I couldn't help but laugh. While I was still a bit apprehensive thanks to everything that had gone on with Lawrence, this just felt different somehow. It felt right.

  We spent the night together, baring our souls to each other and our bodies. Darren confessed that he looked like shit because he'd been a complete mess ever since he decided not to see me again. I couldn't help but be amused. He was so pathetically in love with me. It was amazing I hadn't seen it before.

  The sex that night was different than usual, slower and more purposeful. It felt like every touch and kiss and caress and thrust was savoring, like we were making love on a deeper emotional level.

  In his haste to make me his wife, Darren made me cancel all of my hair styling appointments, and we flew to Vegas the next day to get married in one of those silly little wedding chapels on the strip. It was so corny, but I didn't care. For once in my life, all I wanted was to make Darren happy. He deserved to be happy. Besides, he promised we could have a big ceremony for our family and friends later.

  After the wedding, we got a ridiculously huge suite and celebrated Vegas style with gambling and shows. It felt so surreal, but still so right. Somehow, I knew I had made the right decision. This was the way it always should have been.

  Five Years Later

  Doing hair while you're pregnant kind of sucks. There's not much else to complain about though. Darren's at home with our shitlings. Being an author allows him to be a stay-at-home dad on most days. He absolutely loves it, and he'd great at it to boot.

  Kid number three is inside of me right now. Had I known Darren was going to be so fertile, I might not have agreed to marry him. Oh well. He wanted six kids. I wanted one. We agreed to stop at three. I just didn't think we'd get to three so quickly.

  Life is totally not how I expected it to be, but I'm still happy. We're back in Castroville, living in my parents' old house, though Darren has made tons of improvements on it. He knocked out some walls and made two extra bedrooms for our expanding family. It's not my dream home, but its full of good memories.

  Darren says when the kids move out he'll buy us a house wherever I want. For now, he wants our children to grow up somewhere safe. Just like my father, that one.

  At least, he lets me work. I rented a booth at one of the salons here. Business is kind of crappy because of the small population, so it's good that Darren makes a lot of money. Still, I'm glad he understands that I don't want to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen all the time. Well, at least he understands the kitchen part. He's taken great pride and pleasure in keeping me pregnant, the little sex fiend.

  Krista and I have reconnected, though we're nowhere near as close as we were before. She married a loser who knocked her up and left. It kind of worked out to my advantage. Now our kids will grow up together, and we take turns babysitting for each other.

  Alice met an awesome guy and moved in with him. I still talk to her on occasion. She's happy for Darren and I, though I know she misses living together. Hell, so do I at times, but I wouldn't trade my life for the world.

  I still have no idea how I got so lucky. Darren is the perfect husband and a wonderful father. He goes out of his way to make me feel like a princess, and our kids want for nothing. I kind of worry that they're going to be a little too spoiled, but that's not the worst thing.

  History repeats itself, which isn't always bad. My mother married her best friend and so did I. I can only imagine how proud my parents would be if they saw us now.

  Sometimes it still feels surreal to know I'm back where I started, that Darren is my husband, and we're living in the city I used to hate. Life's not perfect, but it's everything it needs to be, and it's far more than I deserve. That realization keeps me humble. I screwed up so much—hurt so many people. In the end though, life is more forgiving than one can imagine. Wounds heal, and lives can be rebuilt. For that, I am eternally grateful.

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  Bonus Excerpt from The Billionaires Club

  Never before has my pulse raced so much just from being looked at. My first impulse is to avert my eyes. Is this how I'm supposed to act? Is this how the other girls before me acted?

  His eyes are that of a predator, dark and smoldering in the dim light of the club. They're fixed on me as he takes confident strides across the room. I am his prey.

  Every warning light programmed into my subconscious mind goes off, the ones that protect you from making mistakes. Fight or flight response kicks in, and it takes everything in me to keep my black heels planted on the floor, to not turn around and pretend I don't see him.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” he says as he reaches me, his hand moving forward to wrap around my waist. It's like he's known me for years. But h
e hasn't known me for years. This is the first time we've met.

  “Hi,” I manage to stutter out, knowing that my cheeks are redder than roses. Thankfully, he can't see it in the dim light. Would he care if he could? Guys like him are probably used to having girls blushing at them.

  “Shall we go upstairs?” His fingers delicately trace my side, sending a strange electricity straight to my nether region. I want him. There's no question about it. But I'm also scared. What have I gotten myself into?

  “Do you come here a lot?” I ask stupidly, stalling.

  His face pulls into the most intoxicating smile I've ever seen, and he laughs. Good God does he have a sexy laugh. “I came here tonight for you. Just you. Let's go.”

  He takes my hand and leads me to the door of the club. With each step, my heart thumps harder in my chest. This is what I want, right? This is what I came here for. To spend one night with a man whom I'd never have a chance with in a million years in real life. To feel what it's like to be touched by someone with experience. A man, not a boy. Yes, this is what I'm here for, but if that's the case, then why am I so afraid to give in to desire.

  He places his hand on the small of my back as we wait for the elevator, leaning into me. I'm too nervous to look at him, but I can smell him, the scent of expensive cologne and everything that makes him worthy of being part of The Billionaires Club.

  “I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before,” he whispers into my ear. “And you're going to love every minute of it.”

  I don't doubt his words. How can I? My body is wanton for him, so desperately wanton.

  In the elevator, he can't keep his hands off of me. He corners me, bearing into me with his intense gaze. In the club, his eyes looked dark, but now I can see that they're a pale shade of blue. Could he have gotten anymore handsome.

  I bite my lip, looking up at him nervously. His lips move to meet mine, and the kiss is teasing at best. He brushes his thumb affectionately across my cheek, sending feelings of lust racing through me. His touch is magic, and I can only imagine what the rest of him will feel like.

  When the elevator door opens, he leads me out into the hall and pulls a key card from his pocket. This entire floor is his suite. It's almost staggering to think it. Of course, this is a rented room. He doesn't actually live here. It might not even belong exclusively to him. It's just a stage to set a scene, the place that he takes all of his girls. But I don't want to think about that. Tonight, it's all about me.

  I stare at the back of his suit as he opens the door for me. Once I step inside that room, there's no going back. Is this really the right thing to do? I've wanted something like this since the first time I picked up a romance novel, but actually experiencing it is completely different. Besides, this isn't really anything like the novels. This is something else. But it's as close to the novels as I'll ever get, so I should take it.

  “My name is Anders,” he offers to me once he opens the door. “That's what you'll be screaming later.”

  “Is that your first name or your last name?” I ask, peering into the room like a timid animal fearing a trap. This is not like the novels at all. The heroine never acts this stupid.

  “It's my first name.”

  “Mine is Tessa.” I take a deep breath and step forward, crossing the threshold into his expansive suite and a night of sex that I'll likely never forget.

  Almost the instant both of my feet land inside the door, he's on me, overpowering me, dominating me. “Tessa.” My name sounds so sweet on his lips. “Tonight you are all mine. Tonight you will think of me and only me. I'm going to make you come again and again, and tomorrow you'll likely not be able to walk straight. I hope you don't have any plans.”

  He devours any response I might make with his lips, pushing them hungrily on top of mine as he presses me against the entryway. No response is needed. He knows what I'm here for, that this is the pinnacle of my stay at The Billionaires Club. Everything else is just icing on the cake. If I'm laid up in my room tomorrow, it means he did his job right.

  I can feel his arousal beneath his slacks, and though my hands want to go for his cock, I wrap them around his broad muscular shoulders instead. He's every bit as solid as I imagined he'd be. Of course, he is. You don't get to be a host at The Billionaires Club unless your body is custom designed for women. He's almost unrealistically perfect. His face, his lips, his hands. Everything about him was built for pleasure. My pleasure.

  A soft moan escapes my lips as I give in to fantasy, tilting my head to feel his mouth brushing over my neck. His warm breath on my skin is pleasant. His hands on my thighs feel even better. He's hiking up my skirt, and all I can do is stand there, leaning against the wall, powerless against him. No woman in her right mind would ever resist him. He's too irresistible.

  “Are you thinking about it? Writhing beneath my body. I bet you want it right now, for me to take you right here. I'm going to savor you though. Every kiss. Every touch.” His thumb teases softly between my legs, and I respond by opening them a bit wider, feeling embarrassed by my own need for him. He's not the only one who is going to be savoring every moment. But I think he knows that. That's why he moves oh so slowly.

  His fingers tug my panties aside, and he delicately thumbs across my folds. “You're so wet for me. I'm not even inside you yet, and I can already feel it.”

  He's not lying. I'm practically dripping with want for him. No man has ever made me feel this way this quickly. All I can think about is having him inside of me, of what it will be like to be beneath him.

  When he pushes his fingers between my folds, I buck my hips, yearning to feel him. His touch is gentle and sensual, playing back and forth over my heated swollen clit. I worry I might be so hot that I'll burn him, but he doesn't seem affected by it. If anything, he seems more aroused. The look in his eyes is pure lust. And in that moment, it's all for me.

  I tremble slightly as he skillfully rubs my pleasure button, already feeling my body racing up the hill to climax. I'm a bit surprised at how quickly my orgasm is building. It's never been like this before. Perhaps it's because I'm so attracted to him. I feel almost unworthy of his touch. But it's a stupid silly thought. Anyone with enough money is worthy.

  I can't think about that. Can't think about how this is all just a fantasy made flesh. Can't think about how my best friend spent a portion of her lottery winnings to send me here, to make one of my greatest dreams come true. I'll ruin it by thinking about that stuff. I need to focus. Focus on him.

  His heated kiss brings me back into the moment. His scent intoxicates me while his mouth moves sensually on top of mine. I taste his lips and his tongue, wanting to indulge in him forever. He holds my face in one hand and drives me to the height of pleasure with the other. I moan against his mouth as I feel the surge overtake me. He presses his body against mine, and all I need is the feel of his arousal for me to send me plummeting over the edge.

  “That's it,” he whispers gently against my mouth. “Come for me, Tessa.”

  I shutter as my orgasm wrecks me, my eyes closing as I allow the entire experience to make me drunk with sensation. It's the best climax a man has ever given me with his hands. I've never been touched like this before. Not like this.

  He draws me the rest of the way into the room and closes the door behind us. There's really no point in closing it. No one will come up to this floor. Still, it makes the fantasy seem more real.

  I look around while I catch my breath, unable to hide the wonder on my face. This is exactly the kind of place I'd picture a wealthy man like him living. Expansive rooms, plush furniture, perfectly and richly decorated. He doesn't seem interested in giving me the grand tour though. Instead, he takes my hand and leads me straight back to the bedroom.

  “Sit.” He gestures to the bed, and I obey, still in complete disbelief that this is actually happening. “If you thought my fingers were good, you're going to be blown away by what I can do with my mouth.” His perfect lips quirk into a smirk
, and I don't doubt him for a second.

  In that moment, I'm a sponge, soaking in everything he says. Everything he does. Each second alone with him is a gift.

  He unbuttons the front of his suit jacket. After he shrugs it off and tosses it onto the floor, he goes for his silk tie. My eyes watch him move, undressing with the confidence of a God. The tie ends up on my lap once he's done pulling it off. A teasing gesture. I giggle like a school girl, my cheeks heating up all over again.

  Then he starts unbuttoning his shirt, and I feel mesmerized by the very sight of his skin. He's very muscular and cut. Each open button reveals more and more delicious hard flesh. By the time he reaches the bottom button, my hormones are on overdrive. God how I want him to fuck me.

  “You should be undressing now,” he says to me with a whisper of a smile, perhaps tired of watching me drool over him.

  In all honesty, I would rather him undress me. His hands move with confidence. Mine will be moving with uncertainty; I know it.

  I stand awkwardly, practically stumbling. My eyes leave his in fear of judgment, though I doubt I'd ever be able to tell if he was judging me. He's a great actor.

  I try to muster up all of my confidence as I grab the bottom hem of my dress, moving to pull it over my head. Just as I start to lift it, his phone rings. The perfect expression he's held onto all night falters, and an annoyed look takes its place as he scrambles for his phone.

  “Sorry, I have to take this,” he tells me before answering it and taking long strides out of the room.

  My hands let go of my dress, and I sit back down on the bed. This wasn't part of the plan. Or was it? Important business men get phone calls. But I don't think this was supposed to happen right before we had sex. Then again, what do I really know. It could be part of the fantasy, a way to postpone the moment even longer, to push me to my limits.