by CJ Martín
I blink my eyes. Once. Twice. Is this real?
There’re so many questions, so many emotions pumping through my mind, but all that can wait. Right now, I have to kiss her. I drop the duffle bag from my shoulder and it thumps to the floor. I grab her face with both hands and press my lips to hers. Gentle, yet forceful. In this moment, I want her to know two things…that she’s precious, but also that she’s mine.
“Jesse,” she whispers against my lips.
“Riley,” I say, voice awestruck. “You came back.” My lips press kisses to her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks. “You came back to me.”
“My heart never left you,” she whispers as she drags her fingers through my hair.
I lean back, cradle her face with my hands. “And Bill?” I hate to even speak his name, but I have to know she’s mine.
She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “It’s over. I ended it.”
“Why?” My eyes search hers. “What happened?”
“What happened is…” She takes both my hands in hers, kisses one palm, then the other, “…I’m still in love with you.” She drops both of her hands to my waist and squeezes. “I never stopped loving you.”
“Baby,” I whisper, trailing my nose along her neck, inhaling that citrusy lemon smell that I missed so much. “I’m afraid this isn’t real. I’m afraid to touch you. Afraid this is all a dream.” I don’t try to disguise the vulnerability in my voice, don’t think I could even if I wanted to.
“I’m real.” She looks into my eyes. “And I want you to touch me.” She places my hands over her breasts. “Please, touch me.”
“Fuck.” I close my eyes as my fingers knead the soft flesh. It’s been too fucking long. I forget that we’re outside. Or that I have nosy neighbors. Or that anyone exists beyond her. My lips latch onto her neck, and my hands work their way inside her shirt, tug down the soft cup of her bra. I roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
“Fuck, Jesse.” Her arms wrap around my torso and pull me closer. “Fuck,” she curses again, as I lick a slow line across her collarbone and my fingers find her other breast.
She grinds against me, the friction damn near explosive, and before I’ve even had time to process what’s happened, her body convulses, shudders in my embrace, and her head hangs heavy on my shoulder.
“Baby.” I kiss across her jaw, hold her close and feel her erratic heartbeat against mine. “Baby, did you just come?”
I feel her head move against my shoulder, a slow nod: yes.
She lifts her head. “It’s been so long. And with the curse…”
I pull away. “The curse?”
She nods, but then dips her head in embarrassment. “Your curse. When you said I would never be able to orgasm without you. It’s been over a year, and…”
My mouth hangs open, but I quickly shut it.
“I just…” She drags her fingers across my chest, and even through my t-shirt, the sensation is delicious. “I really needed that.”
I lean forward, hover my lips above the shell of her ear. “It sounds like we have a lot of making up to do.”
She agrees. “This was a good start.”
I chuckle as I sweep her off the ground and over my shoulder. I slap her ass once as I kick open the front door. “Baby, we’re just getting started.”
And we are.
This is our chance at happiness.
This is our chance at friendship and love.
This is our chance at forever.
Epilogue: Riley
Later…
I stopped counting the days. Call me superstitious, but I didn’t want to jinx us, our new normal, our new happiness. I stopped worrying about the past, the future, and started living in the now.
And right now, Jesse is about to get the surprise of his life. I shift closer against the wall as the last two players walk through the door. With gym bags slung over their shoulders they shuffle past me, chatting about the upcoming weekend and some frat party they plan to attend. My eyebrows rise. I wonder if their coach would approve.
When the door clicks closed, I take a deep breath and make my way toward the gym. With his recent promotion to assistant coach, Jesse always stays later after practices to finish paperwork and prep the next day’s workout. Sure enough, he’s gathering up a few loose basketballs, his head bent forward in concentration. For a moment I admire his tight ass, the pull of his thin, grey t-shirt stretched tight across his back. Back muscles shouldn’t be that sexy, but his are, especially since I’ve traced their outline with my tongue.
He tucks the ball under his arm and walks to the conference table set-up in front of the open bleachers, picks up a folder, and heads toward the back door to his office.
I follow quietly and stand just outside his office door. He’s looking through the lone manila folder when I clear my throat to gain his attention.
“Ahem.”
He straightens and turns toward the sound. His face softens, recognition lighting his features when his eyes land on me. “Baby.” He drops the folder back onto his desk as I approach. “What are you doing here?” He squints at the clock. “I thought you had a showing tonight?”
I just started working with a small boutique firm, Roger and Rupert Designs, staging residential properties, rentals mostly. The staff is much smaller than at LAMP (so is the pay), but so far I’ve staged three properties and they all sold within their sixty-day contract.
I nod and smile my sexiest smile. “I do have a showing.”
He looks at me expectantly, as though waiting for me to say more.
I run my finger along his bare arm, the softest of touches, yet the sizzle is electric. “I have to show you something.”
His eyes narrow in interest and his tone deepens considerably. “Okay.”
Sucking in a deep breath (and my stomach), I untie the belt of my coat and shrug it from my shoulders. A shock of air hits my bare legs and arms, and a shiver passes over me.
My eyes look down, but then I draw on my inner courage and meet his gaze. His eyes smolder, gliding from the short hem of the jersey that hits mid-thigh to the low V-neck that exposes my cleavage.
Growing uneasy, I whisper. “Say something.”
“Fuck,” he curses, as he places his hands on my waist and gently spins me around. “Fuck.”
His fingers find the hem of the material and rub the nylon, toying with me like a cat sizing up its prey before he devours it. My eyes trace the movement. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“How did you get this?”
“I have my connections.” I play coy, but actually it was super easy. I found a website online that makes replicas of college jerseys for fans to wear to games. I even paid extra to have Jesse’s name and his high school number embroidered on the back.
“Fuck, Ry. Do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now?”
“Maybe.” My voice is silk as I sweep my palm across the hard length tenting his shorts. “You said this was your fantasy. Your high school fantasy.”
He groans as my fingers circle his length and give a strong tug. “You,” he croaks, voice hoarse. “You’re my fantasy.”
I lean in so my lips hover over his ear. “I’m gonna need a little more direction than that.” My teeth nip before I pull away, and his strong fingers squeeze my hip as he lifts me and sets me down on the desk. The metal is cool against my skin, but I don’t care because his kiss is sending flames down my spine.
His hands are everywhere, on my thighs, pushing up the flimsy fabric, widening my legs so he can settle between them.
I encourage him. “Tell me what you’ve imagined.”
He loops his hand in mine, pulling me off the desk and toward the chair. He sits down and spreads his legs wide. His eyes are intense, hooded with lust, and his husky voice scrapes my skin. “On your knees, Riley Ann.” With one hand on my shoulder he guides me to kneel in front of him.
“Like this?” I ask, voice innocent, even though I kn
ow this is exactly what he wants.
“Fuck, yes.” His eyes fall to where the material gapes, exposing my braless chest. “Touch yourself, baby.”
Widening my knees, I slip my hand underneath the jersey, smoothing my fingers across my damp panties.
“Goddamnit.” He groans as he spreads his arms wide behind him.
My fingers slip beneath the silky material that molds to my skin. Knowing how much he likes dirty talk, I say, “I’m so wet.”
“Yeah?” His voice rises at the end, a breathless question. His erection stands straight up, almost as if it were saluting me. He’s so hard that it looks painful.
“Wanna see?” I wiggle my hips and slide the panties to my ankles. I hand them to him and he drags them across his nose and inhales.
“So fucking good.”
“No fair.” I whine, nudging my nose along his cock. “My turn.”
My fingers grab both the waistband of his shorts and boxer briefs and tug down. He lifts his ass to help me, and soon I’m eye level with the world’s most beautiful cock.
His eyes dart between his cock and me before he says. “I’m all yours.”
I return his stare, hard, intense, possessive, because he is all mine. I don’t tease or hesitate; I suck his entire length into my mouth in one swift motion. Definitely too much, too fast, because he hits the back of my throat. I gag around him, and tears spring to my eyes.
“Fuck, baby.” His fingers thread my hair, gripping, pulling. “Just like that.”
I dip my head again, suck him as deep as I can and use my hands to cradle his balls. I roll them in my hand, something I know from experience drives him crazy. His hips shoot upward, pump into my mouth and I give him everything I have, because it’s him. I want him to have every piece of me. Always. He’s my forever heart.
He thrusts deep, holds my head in place, my throat constricting around him like a tight fist. “Riley.” He croaks. “Baby, please. Oh, fuck.” He pulls back and my eyes pop open, meeting his. “Touch yourself some more, baby.”
I nod as my hand falls between my legs, and my fingers drag across my clit. The sensation is there, but I’m much too focused on him. The steady pump of his hips, the deep grunts, the strong forearms clenching on either side of my head.
He stops suddenly, his ab muscles clenching tight. His eyes find mine, almost apologetic when he says, “I wanna come on your face.”
My belly flutters, turned on rather than repulsed by the idea. Nodding, I smile and suck only the head of his cock. “What are you waiting for?” I drawl, as my free hand strokes up his length.
He knocks my hand away, his own fingers wrapping around his length. His fist is a blur as he pumps his length. “Oh, fuck, baby. I’m gonna come. I’m gonna—oh.” His body seizes, his muscles rigid as he shoots streams of hot liquid onto my lips, cheeks, eyelids. My fingers band around his thighs, hold him close, as he shudders through his release. Resting my head on his belly, a contented sigh escapes my lips.
He leans back, his eyes dancing across my face. “I’m sorry.” He brushes a strand of sticky hair from my temple. “You said high school fantasy… I got carried away.”
He pulls me to stand. I rest my fingers against his lips. “No apologies. What we do together is never wrong.”
He stares at me for a beat, then his lips crash onto mine. “I fucking love you, Riley Ann.”
“I love you.”
He tugs his shorts back on. “Let’s hit the showers and get you cleaned up.”
“Hmm.” I chuckle, chasing him toward the locker room. “Time for me to live out a few fantasies of my own.”
THE END
Confessional
This is a new section I added, because there’s always so much I want to say at the end of a book but don’t know quite where to put it. Most of what follows are simply my reflections and experiences while writing Jesse and Riley’s story. If you’re like me and like to read every part of a book (really, I’m not kidding, I read everything), then read on. If you’d rather skip ahead, that’s fine, too. I’ve included an excerpt from Snowbound, my first novel, as well as a list of my other books!
Okay, here we go…
Few things are better than typing “THE END” upon completion of a book. While it’s true that the “writing part” is officially over, the process is far from finished. Forever Hearts is my fourth (eep!) book published, but as an indie author, I’m still learning the ropes. I promised myself that I wouldn’t release this book (or any other book for that matter!) until I learned more about marketing and the behind-the-scenes business of self-publishing, which, spoiler alert, up until now I haven’t been very good at. At all.
So, if you’re already a fan—Yay!!! and Thank you!!! And if you’re new to my books, let’s hope that I’ve at least (marginally) improved in getting my books out there—I’m so happy you’re here! Welcome, bienvenido, bienvenue, herzlich, wilkommen…okay, that’s all I got.
About this novel:
Riley and Jesse’s story was a roller coaster ride from the start. Primarily the song “Cover Me Up,” originally written and performed by Jason Isbell, inspired the story but I first heard (and fell in love with) Noah Guthrie’s version. Like most authors, I’m incredibly inspired by music and create a playlist (sometimes two or three) for each book I write.
Fun fact: Although I create these playlists, I rarely listen to them while actually writing because songs have lyrics…and I wind up singing rather than writing! I like it extremely quiet when I write. If I must listen to something, say, for example, when my dog won’t stop barking (like right now, grrrrr) I listen to my Deep Focus playlist on Spotify.
Okay, back to the story. When I started this journey, I had a general idea of the plot, but as any writer will tell you, things never go to plan. Jesse’s character changed quite a number of times throughout. He certainly didn’t like playing by the rules!
As an author, one of the most enjoyable things for me is to read the story back, start to finish. I write in pieces, the scenes and chapters in nowhere near any type of chronological order until the very end, and it always amazes me how it all fits together. Jesse and Riley’s story spanned years, and their love grew and changed over time. It wasn’t instant or fleeting, but a true, deep love that stayed with them forever.
What I wanted (hoped) to demonstrate most through Riley and Jesse’s characters is that humans are flawed. So often we read novels where the hero’s character is unrealistic or fake. While I’m a huge fan of these stories (I read and write about these types of guys!), real life and real love are messy and complicated. Jesse and Riley both certainly have their shortcomings; they’re frustrating and heartbreaking and endearing, and I hope you fell in love with them as much as I did.
Until next time, thanks for spending some time with me, and I hope to get lost again with you soon.
<3 CJ
Acknowledgments
BIG love to all my readers—without you none of this would be possible. Thank you for allowing me to share my stories and be part of your world for a short while. It’s truly an honor <3
To the many people who’ve helped sculpt and polish this story—thank you. To my incredibly patient and caring editor, Bree Scalf, your unwavering confidence and advice along this journey means so very much to me. Many thanks to Elaine York who catches all my typos (even when I swear there aren’t any!)
This section is always the toughest for me to write because there are so many people who are owed thanks. Just know that I feel truly blessed to have the opportunity to share my writing with the world and send all my love and gratitude to each and every person who has guided me, mentored me, took a chance on me as a new author, shared and posted about my books, left a review, or sent me an email—I appreciate it more than you will ever know. Your kind words and passion for reading push me to keep writing.
Until we meet again…
XOXO
CJ
About the Author
CJ Martín lives
in Pennsylvania with her wonderful husband and her adorable (sometimes infuriating) dog, Albert. She is an avid reader and has been known to spend her days ignoring her responsibilities while engrossed in a good book. She enjoys traveling and yoga. Forever Hearts is her fourth book.
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Snowbound
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Anders Vik is a force on the slopes and he knows it. World number one. Countless endorsement deals. Looks to match. But when a vicious scandal rocks his world, everything he's worked so hard for is threatened. Banished by his coach to a local ski resort, he spends his days losing himself boarding and in numerous women. But when she crashes into his world he's not sure which will change his life more. The wait for his name to be cleared, or her.