I blinked, looking over at Christian and then back at Mom. “What do you mean?”
“People don’t collapse like that for no reason,” Mom said sternly. “What is going on?”
“I—I,” I began, unable to continue. I was terrible at making up on-the-spot lies. If I could have, I would have been able to get away with so much more. “I haven’t been sleeping,” I finally blurted after several heated moments in which I was pretty sure I produced gallons of sweat and bumbled around like a blind beggar.
“Do we need to take you to the doctor?” Mom asked, frowning.
“No—no, It’ll be fine,” I said quickly. They’d give me something and then I really would have issues sleeping—too much of it. Being a college student basically meant that I had to not sleep and do work during the night, because I was very unmotivated throughout the day.
“Honey,” Mom said, this time a bit sternly. “You need to do something about this. Insomnia is a serious mental disorder that can lead to other complications which…” She trailed off when she saw my face. “I didn’t mean to imply that you’re having mental disorders,” she said. “Sorry, I was quoting from the DSM-IV in my head.”
I smiled thinly at her. “I’d really just like to go lie down now,” I said.
“Of course,” Mom said. “Try to get some rest. Christian, can you help her?” she asked. “I’ll make some soup to bring up to you.”
“No, that’s fine, I’m not hungry,” I said. I didn’t think that I could manage anything solid at the moment. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to eat again, knowing that the police were still investigating a disappearance that was actually a murder. I hoped that they never found the body. I hoped that Christian had used whatever skills he had learned from being a bad boy and quite possibly a criminal to his best advantage.
Christian wrapped an arm around my waist, leading me up the stairs. “You don’t have to worry about anything,” he murmured as he helped me into my bed, pulling the covers over me. “I will take care of everything, and there is nothing linking you to being with me that night. We were careful to keep anyone from knowing; you were so adamant about that. Now I’m happy that you were so worried about your reputation as the perfect angel.”
I sighed. “I worry,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “There’s nothing I can do to stop worrying. I won’t be able to stop until they file it as a cold case, which they might not. What if they find something that incriminates us, what if they talk to that hotel owner and discover that I was with you that night, what if—
Christian put a finger over my lips, and I. Just. Stopped. All logical thought disappeared from my mind, and there was just the feel of his calloused, utterly comforting skin against mine. And I wanted more of it.
I didn’t think as I pulled Christian down on me. “Tara,” he said in surprise. “What the hell are you doing?”
“You shouldn’t have to ask,” I said softly, reaching out to touch his air. It was as soft as I remember it from the first time I had allowed myself to touch the hair of a biker, a criminal. It had seemed like such a big thing at the time, something that I would be put in jail for, but I realized how trivial it was just a few hours later, when I was lying naked, skin against skin with the very same man—boy at the time.
Christian made a noise of surprise and reached up to twine his fingers through mine. “You still want me,” he said in surprise.
“I never stopped,” I admitted without hesitation. I had hesitated for years over telling him that, but now that it came down to it, I was more than happy. “Even after you had shot him and I thought that you were a murderer, I couldn’t help but turn to jello when I thought of your lips against mine.”
“I have thought about you every day since you ran out of that hotel room,” Christian growled. He was laying alongside me, his entire body pressed against mine. I shivered at the sensation of such an intimate closeness, even though the blankets and sheets and several layers of clothes separated us. I shivered at the raw and untamed emotion that was roiling through his words. I had never allowed myself to feel so deeply, not before my night with Christian. It wasn’t deeply, but more like erratically. I had always planned everything, allowed no surprises and no spur of the moment actions. Everything had to be planned or else my entire life would fall apart.
That had been what had driven me to doubt myself and my straight-as-a-board path that had one destination in mind and minimal obstacles. It had scared me, and it had exhilarated me.
The fear won over, and I had never called Christian back after that first and final date. We had seen each other at school, of course, but the terrible events of the night and my fear prevented me from ever talking to him. We had drifted apart, until we were complete strangers from two different worlds, and then graduation came and we went our separate ways. He had dropped out the year before, and I had gotten my diploma and my scholarship for my degree in criminology.
I had never expected to hear from him again. That was why, when I heard his family name when Mom called, I high-tailed it back as fast as I could manage. It hadn’t been easy to get out of my classes, but I had classified it as a family emergency and no one had asked questions after that.
“I’m glad that I got to see you again,” I said breathlessly as I realized that he would be here, no matter what happened. The bond between us that had been half-formed in that night was not dissolved as I had thought it had been, but had grown stronger in absence. I felt more deeply towards Christian than I ever had for anyone else except for my own family. We had shared something that was completely different than anything I had ever experienced before, something that I could have gotten used to if that gambling debt collector hadn’t burst into the hotel room and pulled that gun.
But he was here now, and it wasn’t wise to dwell on the past.
I pulled Christian towards me, slanting my lips across his. They tasted just the same as I remembered, like cinnamon and things forbidden. It had terrified and exhilarated me the first time, but now I only felt calm wash through me quickly accompanied with a wave of desire. I let out a shuddering breath and drew back. “I believe you when you say that you will take care of everything,” I told him.
He smiled down at me, pressing a finger to the hollow between my collarbones gently, dragging his finger to the collar of my t-shirt. “I’m glad that you trust me enough.”
Trust. He had used that word last night when he had taken me for the ride on his bike. I hadn’t trusted him then, but now I realized that he was the only one that I could trust, because he was the only one who knew the true me, the one that wanted out from this pretty prison I had put myself in my entire life. Going away with him for a night had been stepping out of my comfort zone, but once I had stepped back in, it hadn’t fit quite right.
I shivered at his touch and reached up, lacing my fingers through his hair and pulling him down for a second kiss. He shifted his weight so that he was hovering above me, deepening the kiss by flicking his tongue out to slide across my lower lip. I felt a bolt of desire skitter down my spine and quickly allowed him access to the inside of my mouth. As we kissed, I felt him working the blankets that he had just tucked me into away from my body, sliding his fingers up my bare arms the movement he freed them. I reached up and felt underneath his leather jacket, running my fingers along the powerful chest and taut expanse of stomach. There was too much fabric between us, and I made a noise of discontent.
Christian broke the kiss frowning down at me. “Do you not want me to do this right now?” he asked, smoothing a hand over my hair.
“No, I want it faster,” I managed to say, and yanked his shirt out from his pants. He grinned down at me, the grin that only lifted part of his mouth. It used to drive me insane, until I could kiss that mouth and realized that he must have been very talented to be able to only move part of his mouth, and he was talented indeed.
He leaned back, shucking off his customary jacket and pulling his shirt over his head in one quick movemen
t. He swooped down onto me once again, and I sighed in relief as I felt his bare, smooth skin sliding along my palms. This was what I had been craving the entire time I had been away from Christian. No amount of beautiful model could make up for the way Christian made me feel. He was divine in a way that no one else would ever compete with.
I shimmied up and out of my shirt, granting him access to sliding his hands along my skin as well. He took full advantage of that, beginning at my sides and then running his fingers over the mounds of my breasts. I arched up against him, and that is when I could feel him, hard and ready.
“Do you know how long I have wanted this?” he growled in acknowledgment to my gasp.
“As long as I have?” I asked, unzipping his pants.
“Longer.”
He kissed me again, and we quickly discarded our remaining clothes. It was a feat that I had never known could be possible, to undress without breaking the kiss.
While he had been an amazing lover years ago, the time we had spent apart had made him better. I felt the passion in my stomach glide through my entire body as he entered me and began moving inside of me at a slow, rhythmic pace.
I was soon begging him to go faster, but he silenced me with a tender kiss. “Let me savor this, because I don’t know that you won’t go running off after we’re done this time,” he whispered.
“Christian,” I said, pulling him closer to me so that I could feel the heat of his body only centimeters from mine. “I am not going anywhere.”
He picked up the pace then, soon sending me into spirals of pleasure.
I had to resist the urge to scream his name to the heavens, to let the entire world know that he was mine and that no one else would be getting this exception to my tightly controlled world, but Mom and Charlie were downstairs.
I explained to him in syllables not a part of the human language the same concept as he kissed me again. Soon, his thrusts became erratic, and he joined me in the pleasure, straining against and away from me, yet pulling himself towards me at the same time as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to be as far away from me as possible, or draw me into his very skin and meld us into one human being.
Afterwards, we lay together, panting. I felt each puff of air against my bare shoulder.
The anxiety was gone. I trusted Christian, I found in those moments between pleasure and coming back to the real world. I reached out and stroked a hand over his arm, reveling in the pure power that was contained in his arms.
“What are you thinking about?” Christian asked, his voice heavy with sleep. I considered telling him about the trust I had no placed in him, but I felt as if that would ruin the moment.
I narrowed my eyes, trying to think of an adequate answer. I wanted to give him my trust, my reassurance that we would be together through this entire ordeal, no matter what. I wanted to let him know that I would be able to give him the support he needed and that I would not run away. I knew what I wanted now, and I wasn’t afraid to announce it to the world, tightly controlled schedule be damned.
Then it came to me. I smiled, letting it spread across my face slowly as I looked up at him. The early morning light turned him a sort of bronzed color that reminded me of something precious. I placed a hand on his chest and leveled myself upright so that I would be looking at him right side up instead lopsided.
“I was wondering,” I said grinning, “when I can fly again.”
Christian looked at me for a few moments, his brow crinkled. Then it smoothed as understanding hit. He grinned and pulled me back down onto his chest, and I nestled there, feeling completely at peace for the first time in my life. “You can fly anytime you want.”
THE END
© Copyright 2015 by Maya Grey - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Riding the Alpha Cowboy
by Maya Grey
The bar was pandemonium, as most bars located in the central location of any city are on a Friday night. However, Vanessa Crowley was most definitely not the one who was supposed to be in the crowded bar, sipping on a brandy and trying to block out the world.
It simply wasn’t her scene. Vanessa was in her element sitting in a library with her latest cozy mystery or walking around the art gallery that had opened recently situated just a few blocks away. No, on a Friday night, if Vanessa was real with herself, she would have been curled up against her husband’s chest and watching some old Western movie that most likely had John Wayne as the starring actor.
But that would have been two months ago. The options above would have been what Vanessa called P.H. Post Husband. Once she had discovered that Rich was cheating on her, not even with another girl, but with a man, she had instantly gotten him out of her life and her apartment. It seemed much too large, now, and she had taken to leaving it only a few moments after arriving there after getting home from work.
Vanessa had dealt with a particularly melancholy day and had come home to her empty apartment, wanting a kind of comfort that didn’t exist there anymore. Thus, she came to the bar. The drinks seemed to help a bit, though she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she was completely alone in the world.
The next sip of brandy Vanessa attempted to take ended up on her shirt. She glared over at the man who had pushed his elbow into her forearm, but he was already moving on. Every man seemed to move on.
Vanessa let out a sigh and downed the rest of her drink without pretense, feeling the burn go all the way through her and settle somewhere in her stomach, where it became a pleasant sort of warmth. She sighed once more and leaned back, before remembering that the bar stool she was resting on had no back, and she bumped against the warm back of one of the many patrons inhabiting the over-crowded bar.
A third sigh seemed nearly comical, so she kept it in, settling for setting her elbow down much too hard on the bar top and pressing her chin against her hand. The bartender was a man who looked to be about her age, perhaps a few years younger, and she watched him pour drinks as if he had been born into the job for several minutes. He had a fluidity about him that people simply didn’t see anywhere else. He reached for the bottles before even looking, sliding glasses along the table with a precision that took years to perfect. Vanessa should know; she’d been a bartender for the vast majority of her twenties. She made a mental note to give the man a tip that went above and beyond normalcy. He deserved it.
Just as she was mentally calculating the tip, adjusting figures as she continued to watch his superb work, someone slid into the bar stool next to her.
Vanessa ignored him. She could smell his spicy cologne, oddly different and not at all oppressing as every other cologne had seemed to be these past few days and months. It was too much like Rich’s scent, and she couldn’t deal with those memories, not right now.
“Howdy.”
The voice was low, low enough to send tingles down Vanessa’s spine, and that southern drawl was sweet enough to make sugar seem pale in comparison. She didn’t even twitch an eyelash. Men were on a very firm no list for the month. Or perhaps year.
“You look as if you’re in need of a good drink, honey,” the man continued.
I don’t see you, so you won’t see me. It was child’s logic, but Vanessa couldn’t help but employing it. Perhaps if she ignored him, he would simply leave. “Bartender,” she called instead.
The young man glanced up, a smile lifting his lips slightly as he glanced over at her.
“Can I get another?” she held up her empty glass. He nodded and made quick work of pouring her next drink.
“I’ll have what the lady is having,” the man Vanessa was avoiding looking at said easily, as if he wasn’t
being completely ignored. Already, Vanessa knew two things about this man: he was cocky, and he was handsome. No man who was unattractive could speak so candidly to a woman who refused to even look at him.
Vanessa sighed. If he was going to have a drink while sitting directly beside her, there was no chance that she could shake him so easily. Vanessa steeled her nerves and glanced over at the man.
She obviously hadn’t steeled them enough. She had expected a slightly good-looking man, one who was the kind of easily good-looking that came with birth. One that got the ladies, but wasn’t the type of man who people stared at across the streets and in cafes. Vanessa had never seen one of those men in the flesh.
Well, that was a lie now. This man was made of the kind of symmetry that would make an artist cry. With coal black hair that she could hardly see peeking out of the cowboy hat and eyes that may have been a light green or perhaps a blue. She couldn’t tell because of the lack of proper lighting as well as the way his hat was pulled low over his face. The man was clad in a plaid shirt that was open two buttons down the front, just enough for Vanessa to catch a glimpse of pronounced collarbones as he shifted around to face her. The slight smile that tugged at his full and utterly sinful lips was more than overkill; it made her want to alternately throw herself at him and run away.
Shit. This was getting out of hand fast, and she didn’t even know his name yet. Vanessa told herself to look away; she tried exceptionally hard to tear her gaze away from the cowboy’s magnetic maybe-green-maybe-blue eyes and focus on the bartender once more, but she found that it was impossible. It was as if someone had hot glued their gazes together, and there was no way that she was able to get away, because she hadn’t been able to in the first few seconds when she was still able to.
Romance: JADEN: An MMA Fighter Romance (Bad Boy Tattoo Romance) (New Adult Pregnancy Short Stories) Page 23