Keagan (This is Our Life Book 2)

by F. G. Adams

  I bolt upright out of the bed and scramble to get away from this stranger … or whoever this person is who’s staring back at me. Limbs flailing, covers bunched around my feet, I trip and fall out of the bed. I’m really not sure what’s real and what I’ve dreamed at this point.

  I compose myself the best I can, because I feel like someone just walked all over my grave. I squawk, “What the heck! What did you just call me? Who are you? Why am I in your room? You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, mister.”

  Pushing my hair back out of my face, I shake my finger boldly at the man lying on the bed, acting like he hasn’t a care in the world.

  Chuckling, he says, “So many questions. Just like you, cher, to go all twenty questions with a side of crazy.”

  Then he laughs. He’s laughing at me? The nerve of this man!

  “Don’t act like you know me, Crash. Is that right? Didn’t you tell me your name is Crash?”

  I wait impatiently for a response, tapping my foot frantically on the carpet as I clutch one of my hands into a fist by my side while the other is placed firmly on my hip—my stubborn stance. I’m crazy mad right now. But all I get out of this maddening, sexy man is a laugh. I want to pull out my hair from his arrogance. He continues with a deep, lingering chuckle, which does something wild to my insides, bringing back a feeling I left behind years ago … an ache I’ve never really let go of.

  And there’s only one person who ever yielded this type of response from me: Keagan.

  After his bout of laughter subsides, his gaze once again finds mine. Those eyes. This can’t be happening. I must be dreaming. I rub my fists over my eyes and then I even go as far as to pinch myself.

  The pinch garners a yelp. “Ouch! Shoot. That’s gonna leave a mark.”

  He chuckles again. “Silly girl. Jo, come sit down. I won’t bite. I’ll explain everything to ya.”

  His voice holds a tender note, which is unexpected from the looks of this man. But what if this is Keagan? My Keagan. Can it be? I inspect the man lying on the bed a bit further—his slick head, tattoos covering his arms, and probably other places I’ve yet to discover. Totally not the same boy I remember from so long ago. His face has softened considerably since last night, but he’s still scary as heck. I’d be totally unsure if it weren’t for those crystal bluish gold-flecked eyes. I study them again and recognition dawns on me.

  “How? Why? … I don’t understand what’s going on here. Am I dreaming?”

  “No, Jo. Just come sit and calm down. Please. C’mere, Boo.”

  He pats the side of the bed that I vacated, beckoning in a commanding way for me to comply.

  My mind is reeling from the possibilities. If this is my Keagan, it’s a miracle. I never thought I’d ever see him again. Although, if it is him, why would he lie to me? Play like he didn’t know me or ever met me before? I think about the way he bored holes in me from across the room last night, watching me cautiously and anticipating my recognition.

  I have to know. I need to know. I walk back to the bed cautiously and sit down with one butt cheek hanging off the edge and the other planted firmly on the mattress, just in case.

  “It’s me, Jo. Keagan. You know it is. All you have to do is believe it.”

  Understanding wallops me right in the face with his admission, and before I realize what I’m doing, I smack him straight across his gorgeous, goateed face. Then I punch him in the arm. I snatch my hand back, pulling it to my mouth as if I touched a hot pot and heave deep breaths in and out, shocked at what I just did.

  “What the fuck, Jocelyn?”

  He rubs his jaw with his huge paw because I’m sure the punch to his arm didn’t hurt him at all by the throbbing of my hand. Hand had met steel.

  “Well, um…” I’m at a loss for words. I never speculated the first thing I would do if I ever saw Keagan again was hit him, but doggonit, he lied to me, playing like he was someone else.

  “It was you the whole time and you didn’t tell me? Why would you trick me like that? I knew you were familiar to me. I was drawn to you. You reminded me of the boy I knew years ago, but I didn’t think that was possible. And you’ve changed so much … Keagan. What did you expect?”

  “Damn it, woman, you’re right. But what the hell? You didn’t have to hit me.”

  “Well, that’s what you get for deceiving me like that, Keagan. ‘What the heck’ back at you!”

  He shakes his shaved head back and forth with a slight smile quirking his lips, running his big hands over his smooth skull. I succumb to the fantasy of my hands there instead, touching him. I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking right now.

  His next words startle me.

  “Of all the places in all the world, you had to step into the same motel I did. What are the chances of that, cher?”

  “Jeez, I don’t know. Crazy, right?” I blush under his scrutiny. His gaze making me squirm and I close my legs tighter to stove off the burning itch that’s tickling between my thighs. Get yourself together, Jo. You’re mad, remember? Hormones are a bitch.

  Keagan was always very good at reading me and he recognizes the discomfort I’m sporting because of him. So he diverts the conversation, a tactic Keagan always excelled in. And I’m grateful at the moment. The next words that come out of his mouth squash my resolve a bit more.

  “I couldn’t believe it was you last night and I was so damn glad to see you again, Jo. It’s been a long time. And when you smiled at me, I was a goner. Even when I latched onto the fact that you didn’t recognize me, I couldn’t stop it. I wanted to be close to you again. I’m on a job and I can’t say more than that. It’s dangerous, despite the short time we have. I missed you.”

  Son of a gun. What do I say to that? I hear the words I’ve longed for and yet...

  “M’aingeal.” His endearment is a whisper on his lips as he gently lifts his hand to my cheek and strokes softly back and forth, moving his thumb across my lips and then down my neck. He settles his huge palm over my heart which is beating ninety to nothing—a rhythm no doubt created by this moment of reconnection with Keagan. It’s such a tender gesture from the harsh man sitting in front of me.

  “What are you doing?” I’m breathless, anticipating what he’ll do next.

  This Keagan has grown bolder since we last saw each other years ago. I loved how forthright he was and his dominating presence back then, which kept me on the edge of my seat. But now…now I’m sucked into his vortex of the older version. Gaining a bit of sense, I gently remove his hand and hold it in mine. I have questions that need answering and I’m confused.

  “What’s going on, Keagan? Why did you play off like you were someone else? I have to know.”

  “Don’t.” Just that one word speaks volumes to the insistence he commands, but I can’t help myself as I push for more.

  “Please, Keagan.”

  “No, cher. Not this time. Enough. No questions and answers. Just you and me. I’ve waited long enough to have a taste of you and I’m not wasting this chance. Now you can roll the dice with me or walk away now. But if you stay put, I promise, I’m gonna make you scream like you’ve never screamed before, Jo. You can count on that. The rest can wait for another time. Are ya with me or not? I want you. Now.”

  He grabs my hand and places it on his massive erection which is clearly busting at the seams behind his zipped up jeans. Oh my gosh. His face is a mix of passion and need.

  I begin to pant and my breathing becomes hard. I want him too, I always have. Should I take this chance? Spend some surely unforgettable time with the man I’ve fantasized about for years, or do I walk away? He played me, but he obviously has his reasons. Right? I’ll get it out of him later. Are we going too fast? Can I even do this? Yes, I want him. I always have. At one time long ago, he was my best friend. I can trust in that. To heck with what happens later. I need to know how good I think it can be. This is my fantasy and today it’s going to come true.

  Thunder booms and claps loudly outside. Secon
ds later, a bright flash of light rivets straight through the window and appears to disappear on the shag green carpet beside the bed. I jump. I’m startled by the hazardous sounds and eerie bolt. Keagan takes the opportunity to pull me closer to him where he’s lying on his side of the bed, rooting me to his side and folding me up into his imposing, hefty arms. At first I reluctantly move into his space. Then I snuggle in deep because I’m scared. Right? My nose is seized by the masculine scent, only belonging to Keagan.

  “Whatta ya say, m’aingeal? You ready to see what it’s like between us or do you want to run away again?”

  “Whatta ya say, m’aingeal? You ready to see what it’s like between us or do you want to run away again?”

  A distressed gasp fills the stale hotel room as her eyes narrow on me. She moves away from the bed, walking over to the secured window as if she’s able to watch the turbulence of the storm outside despite the fact that the raging one inside of me is even more dangerous to her.

  The furrowed brow on her lovely face worries me. I’ve pushed too far. I rise up from the prone position and attempt to wrap her in my arms again. She brushes my arms away and turns to face me.

  “Run away? It’s called depression, Keagan. I closed down. Too painful dealing with life at the time. I thought you understood me. That if anyone understood what I was going through, it was you.”

  I start to interrupt her and she holds her palm up facing my direction. Moments pass as she collects her thoughts.

  Her posture eases from the tautness in seconds, and she says, “You really have a way with women, huh? You do realize what a jerk comment that was?”

  I nod and patiently wait for her to decide which way she will go. Inwardly, I cringe at my attempt to stab her back with hurtful words. She didn’t know the pain she caused me all those years ago. She was young, naïve, and drowning in her own problems.

  Tentatively, she moves in my direction and places her hand over my chest.

  “Oh, Keagan, honey, I’ve dreamed of this moment so many times. This isn’t how I pictured us. Not our first time together.” She lowers her stare to my chest and pauses.

  I barely breathe, waiting for her response.

  “So, I guess to answer your question, yes, I’m ready, and no, I won’t run away from you.” She absently strokes my chest. “From this thing between us.”

  I still her hand laying on my chest stroking her fingers intimately.

  “I want you. Skin to skin. Nothing between us. I want to map your body. Find your pleasure points and drive you insane for hours upon hours. I need to feel you, Jocelyn.”

  The indecision in her eyes fades away. She lifts her lips to me and I don’t hesitate when she offers them to me, answering my plea. I slowly rub her bottom lip with my thumb and cradle her head in my other hand. Time stops, suspended. With eyes locked on each other, so much is relayed in the brief seconds that elapse. Longing. Need. Desire. A slow burn kindles within. The moment stirs intense emotions.

  The precious gift she’s offering almost sends me to my knees. I’m not worthy. I’m damaged goods. She deserves better. Her eyes seek a promise of tomorrow, of more than today, something I’m not able to provide her with. I’m a bastard wanting her this way, knowing a future with her isn’t possible, but I can’t make myself walk away. I’m weak.

  Her mouth caresses my thumb with tender nips. The softness of her lips touching my rough skin ignites a burning flame within my gut. I groan when she opens and teeth rub the length. Her eyes bore into mine with a promise of things to come as her warm mouth envelopes my thumb again, applying pressure and creating a suction. Blood rushes to my aching cock, needing relief.

  This Jocelyn standing before me is bold, confident, and driving me crazy. The woman is daring me to claim her body.

  I remove my thumb, tugging, impatient for my first taste of her. Framing her angelic face, I lower my mouth and reach for the promise of heaven I will find there. A groan escapes as she welcomes me home. Sweetness fills my mouth when her tongue circles mine and her lips move passionately, building a yearning that requires more.

  I hold her steady, demanding more. She meets my unspoken demand with one of her own. A frenzy of teeth gnashing ensues and a battle for dominance unfolds. Her nails latch securely onto my ass, pulling me even closer to her body. Her pebbled breasts massage my chest seeking release from the restriction of clothing we have between us.

  She tugs at the shirt I’m wearing, lifting it up.

  “Take it off,” she demands. “Now. Take it off.”

  I release her, allowing her to push the shirt up and over my chest. The desperation in her voice escalating my need. I take over, discarding it to the side. Her hands come back, roaming over my torso. I’m lost, craving her. She levels her eyes with mine and touches a puckered scar.

  I had forgotten. For a small blip in time, the past was just that: the past. It didn’t linger. She was the reason. Now she was seeing my imperfections, touching them.

  “Keagan.”

  Her eyes shimmer with moisture and affection as she weaves a trail of kisses from scar to scar, following the path around my disfigured body.

  Marking me, branding me everywhere she touches, turning the memory of pain and failure into something beautiful.

  She lowers to her knees in front of me and unbuckles my belt. I’m mesmerized by her movements. I’ve fallen into her trance. The button on my jeans snaps open and the zipper lowers. She’s intent at her task, removing my clothing. Her hands slip between the jeans and my skin. She strains, trying to pull them down my thighs. I easily push them down, waiting for her next move.

  She lowers my boxers, scraping the sides of my hips with her nails, a combination of pleasure and pain. My thick cock springs forward, thumping against my abs. Dainty hands wrap tightly around me and stroke from root to tip, over and over, pumping and priming the muscle. The action is pure heaven.

  When her tongue licks the small drops of pre-cum off the crown of my dick, my knees threaten to collapse under me. Fire. I’m burning alive inside, her every touch sizzling through me like the fiery storm raging outside. I throw my head back as an overwhelming feeling of pleasure courses through my body. Warmth closes around me as I sink into her willing, open mouth. She’s captured me, owns me.

  I watch the intimate act trying to remain in control. She’s a siren beckoning me. I’m caught in her sexual web of pleasure. When her teeth rake over the tip of my member and her hand squeezes and massages my sack, I react. I grip a fistful of her curly hair pulling her mouth away from me.

  “Jocelyn, you’ve got to stop, baby. You’re driving me crazy.”

  The sight before me steals my breath away. She’s kneeling, eyes glassed over with desire and lust, lips puffy, red, and panting. Exquisite, the things dreams are made of.

  Extending my hand, she accepts, and I wrap her closely in my arms, inhaling her unique scent. The moment washes over me. Here we are, stuck at the Pit-Stop waiting for Hurricane Georgia to pass, the rain pounding outside the window being a constant reminder. My jeans are hanging off my ass, but I have my angel in my arms. Her scent surrounds me. I don’t want to let her go, but I need more.

  I maneuver us near the bed and sit down with her standing directly in front of me. Her breathing is returning to normal.

  “Cher, you will be the death of me if I don’t remove these boots.”

  She flashes a smile as I finish removing the last of my clothes. Standing before her, aching with desire, needing her to end the primal yearning deep down inside, I remind myself we only have tonight and I need to satisfy the craving for her.

  “C’mere, angel,” I tenderly command, waiting for her submission. She willingly steps into my out stretched arms.

  “You’re naked,” she whispers.

  “And you have way too many clothes on,” I snicker. “I’m fucking buck-ass naked. Shouldn’t it be the other way ‘round?”

  “You always did like to strut your stuff.”

  “I’ll
show you.”

  Peals of laughter wrap around me. Her happiness assaults my senses, pushing me into action.

  “Angel, do we need protection?”

  “No. I’m on the pill. I don’t want anything between us.”

  I grab a handful of her top and yank it from the inside of her wrinkled jeans. Her laughter stops as the howling of the wind outside plays a thunderous melody. The material bunches, revealing inch by glorious inch of her creamy skin. Her voluptuous breasts encased in the silky satin material lure my focus to the dusty nipples straining from the restriction. I thumb the front clasp and watch as the silky bra falls to the floor. I’m overcome by a longing to worship the beauty of Jocelyn Blackwood.

  Pulling her close, feeling her skin against mine, it feels so right. My hand curves around the soft mounds of her rear to tuck her hips into mine. Her warmth seeps under my skin. The gentle sound of her voice coaxes me closer to her in every way possible. Body. Mind. Soul.

  I nip the lobe of her ear lightly, causing a shiver. I cascade kisses down her long throat as my fingers probe and stroke her nipple. Round and round, building the sensation. I lightly pinch her erect rosy nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. Her moans increase in volume, matching the thunder and rain outside.

  She rubs her pussy on my throbbing cock and my hips roll and thrust, seeking refuge in her heavenly body. Her head lolls back, stretching her neck as I continue to nip downwards, adding a sting only to lick the same spot with my tongue. She offers the other side, chasing the pleasure.

  Finding our way to the bed, I lower her, keeping our bodies pressed together. My mouth latches onto her nipple, biting down and adding to her already aroused body. I need to hear my name on her lips.

  My fingers search the slick folds through the curls finding her swollen clit. Lightly tapping, I simultaneously tug on her mouth-watering breast. She starts to come unglued in my arms, twisting and turning, bumping and grinding against me.

  “Keagan. Oh my god! Please. Don’t stop. More. I need …”