You Have Always Been My Dream

by Jaycee Avalon

  Copyright © 2019 by Jaycee Avalon

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electrical, digital or mechanical including but not limited to photocopying, recording, scanning or by any type of data storage and retrieval system without express, written permission from the author.

  The characters in this book are based on the author’s imagination. Any mention of towns, cities, or locations are purely for the purpose to give the reader some semblance of credibility. The events in this book are not based on actual occurrences. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales are entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  INTRODUCTION

  Note from the author

  Title Page

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  LOVE IS A COWBOY

  PATIENCE IS A COWBOY

  STRENGTH IS A COWBOY

  HOPE IS A COWBOY

  SPANISH TERMS

  More books by Jaycee Avalon

  About the Author

  INTRODUCTION

  I have a promise to realize. An impossibility. I loved Joy with all my heart, will forever keep on loving her though she is gone. But I promised her and I mean to keep my promise.

  Giving up on my search, I concentrate on my career, taking my mind off women. Afterall, my mother once told me an old Irish proverb: Your feet will bring you to where your heart is. So I keep going.

  Then… Boom! There she is; feisty, passionate and full of longing. She’s fighting to keep her heart intact; I’m fighting to win her soul. I do so one-scorching-hot-delicious-touch at a time. This mamacita is mine!

  Note from the author

  Dear Readers,

  I love giving my books a realistic feel to them. I do much research on the times, customs, beliefs and actualities during the times of my books. I love a book that makes sense and feels real due to its closeness to actual events and times.

  Therefore, I learned quite a bit about my heroine’s culture. Spanglish is a reality in Latin American. Funny enough it goes both ways. Meaning a Latin person would speak English with Spanish words thrown in, vise-versa, a Spanish person would speak Spanish with English words thrown in.

  Almost every Spanish word used in this book has been translated within the paragraph or chapter, but not all. Some are translated in later chapter as our hero learns their meaning. However, to help you follow along, I’ve added a glossary at the end of the book, giving you not only the translated version but it’s actual meaning.

  Hope you enjoy this latest book on the YOU HAVE ALWAYS Series. It’s as spicy as the first two, have fun!

  Sincerely, Jaycee Avalon

  YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN MY DREAM

  By Jaycee Avalon

  PROLOGUE

  Erick

  Late January

  How can anyone ever stop loving?

  I gave my word to the Love of my life that I would never stop looking for my one and only. It was the last cruel joke she played on me before her eyes closed for the last time.

  She was everything to me since the moment I saw her. Pink little shiny balls glittering in the sunlight as she bounced up and down on the see-saw. She was the cutest thing I’d ever seen. My six-year-old heart couldn’t believe what it was looking at.

  Turns out she was the girl next door and our mothers’ thought it was godsend they had found each other. They took turns babysitting us; both Joy and I were in heaven. Growing up together was the best thing that ever happened to us. We were always together.

  Teenage hormones hit us at the same time and we discovered the joy of sex in the back of my shiny new truck. By the end of our first year of college I was already working up my courage to propose. We were going to have the perfect life together.

  Then one cold rainy morning everything changed and I was left there, in the pouring rain; alone and knowing I’ll never be the same again. Knowing life was no longer worth living.

  Except I made a promise a couldn’t break…

  “Promise me, you’ll stay alert for your one and only.”

  “NO!”

  “You owe me your word; you know you do. Promise me?”

  “I can’t,” I sobbed.

  “Your love has made my life worth living, please don’t let it die with me.”

  “You can fight to stay here.”

  “You can promise me. Please, Erick.”

  It was the last request she asked of me and I couldn’t say no to her.

  I still live. I still breathe. I eat because I have to. I sleep because I need to. I fuck because once in a while I find my body needing just a little bit of that connection, but it’s never the same and once done, I feel empty again.

  I’m not like my best-friend Justin used to be. I’m not one to love them and leave them. I let them stick around until they get tired of my cold shoulder and my unemotional state.

  Perhaps I’ve been going around the wrong way. I’m going with women I find physically attractive and who can get my blood going south after some fooling around. But maybe I should start looking for more of an emotional connection. Or, maybe… I should stop looking for a while.

  I need to get my education completed anyway. I’ve been working with Justin’s dad to get my security agency going. I’m good at staying alert, I’m good with all that computer security crap and I have the muscles to bring down the bad guys.

  I’m in the wrestling team but wrestling is just a distraction for me. I get to defeat some asshole without doing damage and by the time I’m done, I’m too exhausted to think about the past. But wrestling isn’t gonna pay the bills and I’m not going into the WWE.

  I’ll stop looking for now, but I’ll stay alert, for I have a promise to realize.

  “Hey!” a soft musical voice calls, getting my attention and my head going up to search its owner.

  “What can I help you with?”

  “My friend tells me you like to give a girl a few good nights but aren’t the lovey-dovey type.”

  “My mother taught me to respect women, so I’ll give you the nice version: Walk. Away!” I growl.

  “Fuck you, asshole,” she huffs and heads out the door.

  So much for a musical voice. Some women just don’t have any respect for themselves. I wonder what they’ll tell their grandchildren when they grow up? I never take women who come on to me. Not. My. Type!

  “Fuck you, Joy. I hope you’re laughing your ass off!” I mumble.

  ‘Oh! I am,’ I hear the never-ending reply.

  I think my best-friend; Justin Fucking Mayfield is rubbing off on me. His hocus-pocus ass!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Erick

  Starting a security agency ha
sn’t been easy. Becoming a private investigator was hard work, but training under Samson Mayfield since before I graduated college has helped. My small agency is a five-man team but hopefully we’ll expand.

  I’m working on three cases right now and they are going well. I’m trying to make a name for myself and my men, so moving to New York was the best option. Not bad for it being a few months after graduating. It’s almost the end of June and summer promises to be hot and sticky here in New York City.

  I check the time on my watch and grimace, shit! I’m so late. The taxi driver is making headway but still, Melody; my best-friend’s wife is going to kill me. This is her big day and she’s been working hard on getting her gallery open.

  That douche-bag friend of hers, Shawn, finally got his head out of his ass and apologized to Melody for being a douche-bag. Apparently, the man fancied himself in love with her. Anyways, that was a good thing since the location his parents have is incredible. Right in the heart of Manhattan.

  Throwing some cash to the taxi driver, I thank him and make my way to the front entrance, brightly lit up and red-carpeted. I show my invitation to the bouncer and walk in. Wow! This place is showcasing some good art.

  Grabbing a champagne flute, I take a gulp and start scanning the crowd for Justin and Melody. I end up walking through four of the five rooms in this place to finally find them in the photography room.

  Damn, some of these photos are nice, there’s one of a man whose eyes are so piercing even I’m entranced by it and believe me, I’m so not gay.

  “Erick!” Melody calls and hugs me with a kiss to my cheek when I reach her.

  “I’m so impressed!” I tell her, extending a hand to Justin who’s about to kick my ass for hugging his wife, which I do all the time.

  I hug her, he gives me the death glare, she berates him, I kiss her in gratitude, he growls; his werewolf ass!

  “I know. Just look at his one. It’s making me want to try the other side,” she laughs, pointing at a photo of a woman, perfectly dressed in a nice evening gown, but obviously aroused. The photographer’s name is on a gold-plated plaque; Lo Martz.

  “Not sure I want you going down on a woman, baby,” Justin tells her, pulling her to him.

  “I thought you liked threesomes,” she teases.

  “Melody,” he warns, making her laugh.

  “You guys are hilarious,” I chuckle and turn to beckon for another glass of champagne. I think I need something stronger right now.

  Grabbing a flute, I turn back around only to come in contact with honey color eyes looking at me with hunger in them, making my eyes round and my pulse speed. I think I’m about to have a heart attack.

  “Erick, this is Dolores; Dolores Martinez” Melody introduces.

  “So, this is the famous Erick. My! isn’t he yum-yum, you sure weren’t kidding, Mel,” she says in the most provocative voice I’ve ever heard.

  My eyes travel down her short, tight and super small, cocktail dress. I’m wondering if she’s wearing anything else underneath that dress. It’s practically molded to her body. She’s wearing height defying stilettos, giving her the illusion of being tall.

  When my eyes come back up to her face, all tan and silky, laughter has replaced the hunger. She bites her lower lip and laughs a little.

  “Cat got your tongue, Erick?” Justin mocks, making me look at him. “Lolita here has a tendency to eat men, just like her namesake,” Justin laughs at his own joke.

  Pulling Melody to him, he starts to walk away but Mel stops him. “Hold on,” she tells him, before facing her friend.

  “Lola, please be nice. Erick is one of the good ones. Please don’t use him for his body,” she tells her, making my eyes round and my pulse speed up.

  “I thought you said he was perfect for me,” Dolores, Lolita or Lola tells her. I’m still reeling on the names.

  “You know what I mean, nena,” Mel says, throwing in a new name.

  “Jesus!” I breathe out and gulp the champagne down my throat.

  “Come on Erick, I think you need something stronger than champagne.” Grabbing my hand, she starts to pull me behind her to a door marked, ‘employees only.’

  “Um…” my distress seems funny to her as she leads me into the office, where she drops my hand, takes the champagne flute from my loose fingers and walks to a cabinet.

  “What would it be, handsome? I got whiskey, rum or gin?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Lolita

  “Tell me your name again,” Erick requests, making me laugh.

  Laughter is my go-to form of defense and right now I need it to keep my defenses up. This is one gorgeous and deliciously looking man. And believe me, being a photographer, I’ve seen some male specimens who could be nominated to become Greek Gods.

  “My full name is Dolores. But most of my friends call me Lolita. Once in a while I go by Lola,” I explain.

  “You, yummy man, can most certainly call me Lolita,” I tell him seductively and pour two fingers of whiskey for each of us.

  Walking to him, I extend him a glass before clicking mine to his. He’s still looking dumbfounded and I need to get a conversation started with this man because I most definitely want to use him for his body.

  “Justin says you’re a PI, very attuned to your surroundings and very perceptive,” I tell him, lifting a brow to him. “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Perceptive?”

  “Very.”

  “I don’t doubt it, what with that body,” I groan teasingly and seductively.

  He groans deep in his throat. His glass slips off his fingers and hits the carpet with a thud. I back off a little so I don’t get splashed, but he follows, and pulling me roughly into his arms starts kissing the hell out of me.

  Shit! This is not what I was going for. But oh God, this is good. So good. He kisses with hunger and passion. He backs me up against the desk and bends me backwards until I’m lying flat on it and his body is covering mine.

  “God, I haven’t tasted something this good in a long time,” he groans before going back to kissing me.

  This is so damn good, but oh so wrong. Pushing against his chest I manage to disentangle our tongues and grab at his face.

  “Back up, back up,” I breathe out heavily at him, “I’m not supposed to take advantage of you,” I tease.

  “I’ve seen you before,” he breathes out, as in a trance.

  “I think, ah…” I pant out, still having a hard time getting my breathing under control. “I think Mel showed you a picture of me once,” I explain.

  “No. That’s not it. I mean—”

  “Um… You think we can talk about this in a vertical position instead of horizontal,” I cut him off.

  He smiles widely making my breath hitch. He gets off of me slowly and helps me straighten up. I check my dress making sure it didn’t hitch up while we were tongue fucking and my ladies are still in their confines.

  “I think you made me drop my whiskey too,” I accuse.

  “Well, your seduction was working beautifully,” he sasses back, all cocky and sure of himself. Finally!

  “Wasn’t supposed to go that way,” I mumble.

  “Oh no? So, what exactly where you trying to do?”

  “You were supposed to answer, ‘Oh yeah? and what would you do with my body?’ and I was supposed to say, ‘photograph it, of course,’ it has always worked before,” I confess.

  “Jesus!” “Wait! Are those photographs out there, yours?”

  “Bingo!” I laugh at him.

  “That’s what Melody meant by you using my body,” he concludes.

  “Por supuesto! I have a bad habit of making sure men know how attractive I find them, then when they response positively, I sweep in and get them photographed. But…”

  “Yeah?”

  “But I don’t sleep with them. Never. It’s a hard rule of mine, so they’ve kind of named me Lolita for that. They get paid really well for their time and body though,�
� I tell him, then in a more seductive voice I add, “I do women too.”

  “So, you want to photograph me?”

  “Si,” I say excitedly in my best Spanish.

  “Si?”

  “That’s Spanish for ‘yes’”

  “Oh, I know that. I’m thinking your other words were Spanish too. What was it, por supuesto?” he asks, almost perfectly.

  “That means, ‘of course’ I kind of throw a bit of Spanish into the mix,” I laugh at him. “So, would you pose for me?”

  “No can do, bella.” The Spanish word for ‘beautiful’ is nicely pronounced with a delicious white boy accent.