Heat Wave: A Summer Loving Anthology

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by Anthology




  Copyright

  Just One Summer- A.D. Justice

  Keep Me- Kathy Coopmans

  The Other Side-Cassy Roop

  Rebound-Chelle Bliss

  Banded Together- Hilary Storm

  Interrupted- S. Moose

  Persuading Him- Michelle Dare

  LOVE on the Horizon- A.M. Madden

  Fractured- Alexis Noelle

  Taming Alec- K.A. Robinson

  Blurred Lines-Tamsyn Bester

  Sheltered- L.A. Casey

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Cover Design and Interior Formatting by Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs

  All proceeds from this anthology will benefit Paws With A Cause.

  Paws With A Cause® enhances the independence and quality of life for people with disabilities nationally through custom-trained Assistance Dogs.

  PAWS® increases awareness of the rights and roles of Assistance Dog Teams through education and advocacy.

  To find out more info for this charity, please visit pawswithacause.org

  To find out more information and read other works from the amazing authors

  in this anthology, please visit their links below.

  A.D. Justice

  Hilary Storm

  Chelle Bliss

  Cassy Roop

  Michelle Dare

  A.M. Madden

  Kathy Coopmans

  Tamsyn Bester

  K.A. Robinson

  L.A Casey

  S.Moose

  Rebecca Brooke

  Alexis Noelle

  Table of Contents

  Paws With A Cause

  Authors

  Just One Summer

  Keep Me

  The Other Side

  Rebound

  Banded Together

  Interrupted

  Persuading Him

  LOVE on the Horizon

  Fractured

  Taming Alec

  Blurred Lines

  Sheltered

  Acceptance

  Just One Summer

  A Novella

  A.D. Justice

  CHAPTER ONE

  JAGGER

  JUNE

  IT’S FRIDAY NIGHT AND THE music is thumping as I walk into the club. The bass is cranked up so high that the whole floor vibrates with every beat of the tempo. It enters my body with each step that carries me farther inside. The dance floor is packed with hot, sweaty, barely-clad bodies. People writhe in time to the beat and are acting out the suggestive lyrics. Hands grope strangers in the dark before they wind their way through the masses to a hidden corner in the back of the club.

  I smile to myself when I watch another twosome disappear around the corner. I’ve lost count of how many girls I’ve taken back there after finishing our set. So many girls use vacation as an excuse to go wild, fuck some stranger, and brag about how romantic he was when they get home to their girlfriends. They do it even more so when they bed the lead singer of a popular local rock band in said vacation mecca.

  Here’s the raw truth. I pour my heart and soul into my music. I give my all to the crowd while I’m on stage. Making my fans feel like a valuable part of the show is important to me because there’s no doubt about who supports my dreams. Once I step off the stage, though, I’m a normal twenty-five year old guy. When a beautiful, drunk girl walks up and strokes my dick before I even know her name, I don’t waste time romancing her. We go to the dark hallway in the back of the club and I fuck her brains out. Then I’m done with her and I walk away.

  My band is named after me, Jagger York. Yeah, my parents were big fans and carried it a little too far. It could’ve been worse though. The girls seem to like it and there’s no doubt they like me. My good genes were inherited from both of my parents. I’m easily six-foot tall, with a natural athletic build, without looking like a muscle head. The ladies love to run their fingers through my thick black hair and stare deeply into my dark brown eyes.

  So as I walk through the club toward the tables where my friends are congregated, there’s no shortage of barflies who try to get my attention. Without even time to order a drink yet, I’ve had no less than half a dozen girls try to get in my pants. No one can tell me that men are the dogs, always sniffing around for something to hump.

  I take my seat with the guys in my band and several of our mutual friends that are here with their girlfriends or dates. I approach the table and receive a rousing round of welcomes.

  “About fucking time you got here. Where the hell have you been?” Dane, the lead guitarist, scowls.

  “Dickhead. Can’t believe you’ve left us waiting all this time,” Tanner, the drummer, adds.

  Wes, the bass player, just flips me off and returns to making out with the girl beside him.

  “What’s the big fucking deal? You’re all here, having fun without me. Why do I have to be here at a certain time?” I ask.

  “We were supposed to meet with Joey about renewing our contract here,” Tanner replies, clearly disgusted with me.

  “Shit, man. I completely forgot that was tonight,” I admit. “I’ll talk to him and smooth it over.”

  “If you get us kicked out of here, I’ll kick your ass,” he replies.

  ‘Here’ is Club Deviant, one of the hottest nightclubs in the South Beach area. It’s hopping here year-round, but summer brings vacationers from everywhere. Losing our spot in the lineup is not an option and I definitely fucked up. But Joey is a good guy and he knows we pull the crowds in.

  “Don’t sweat it, man,” I dismiss him.

  A waitress walks by and I touch her arm to stop her. She flashes me a seductive smile and obviously thinks I’ve stopped her for a different reason. “Hey babe, can you bring me a beer?”

  Her smile falls as she nods. “Sure, Jagger. Be right back.”

  When I take my seat, I finish saying hello to our entourage of friends. The most gorgeou
s girl I’ve ever seen takes a seat with us and I lose my voice. Her hair is a gorgeous chestnut brown with blond highlights. I can tell from here that her eyes are a deep blue that rivals the depths of the ocean. She’s obviously new to the club scene from the uncomfortable glances she keeps throwing at the dance floor.

  When I finally move my eyes to see what she’s looking at, I stifle a laugh when I see the couple dry humping a few feet away from us. Cutting my eyes back over at her, the expression in her eyes as she watches them changes. For a split second, I think she wishes she were the one having that much fun. She quickly masks her desire and turns her gaze away from them.

  She’s sitting next to Vince’s date, Jennifer, and leans over to whisper something to her. Jennifer smiles, nods her head, and they both stand to walk off together. I’m sure I look like one of those exaggerated cartoon characters, with my eyes bulging out and my tongue unrolling across the floor like a fucking red carpet.

  The dress she’s wearing hugs and accentuates her hourglass figure in all the right places. Her breasts are perfectly round and just the right size to fit in my hands, just like her ass. Her legs are long, lean, and muscular. Fuck me. I think I’m drooling on myself.

  I move over to the vacant seat beside Vince as casually as possible. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

  Vince chuckles before he takes a swig of his beer. “She’s out of your league, man.”

  “What? Who?” I try to play it off.

  “You know who. The girl you’ve been staring holes into for the past five minutes. The girl that just walked off with Jennifer. Her name is Mali Greyson. And she’s way out of your league,” he stresses.

  “What makes her out of my league?” I’m offended by my friend’s assessment of me.

  “She’s not a whore dog for one,” he grins. “She’s nice, and she’s a good girl. Not your type. Too good for you.”

  “That hurts,” I reply.

  “It would if you had feelings,” he retorts.

  “What’s the deal with her? Why do you say she’s a good girl?”

  Vince’s hand freezes midair, his bottom jaw is slack, and his eyes grow wide. “I don’t fucking believe it. You don’t recognize her. Or even her name.”

  “Man, I meet all kinds of girls and never even ask their names. Why would I know hers?” I sneer.

  “Just thought you may recognize the daughter of one of the best music producers around. Guess not,” he shrugs.

  “Holy shit! Her dad is Milo Greyson?”

  “The one and only,” he replies. “Jennifer went to school with her, they lost touch, and found each other again on Fakebook.”

  “I don’t remember ever seeing much about her in the tabloids,” I remark.

  “And you won’t ever. Milo keeps pretty tight reins on her. He knows firsthand how those fuck ‘em and leave ‘em rock stars are,” Vince pins me with his words. “He won’t let his baby girl date them.”

  “She’s all grown up now,” I point out as the waitress returns with my beer.

  “Yeah, she’s grown. But she’s still a trust fund baby, dude,” he shakes his head. “You honestly think she’d risk a lifetime of wrath from Daddy just to spend one night with you?”

  I take a drink from my longneck bottle and drain nearly half of it in one gulp. He does have a point there, but I’ll never admit that to him. There’s only one thing that stops me from putting him in his place. Mali Greyson is approaching and I’m completely tongue tied again. My eyes, however, move without a hitch and they are drinking in every detail of her.

  Childhood fairytales convince little kids that love at first sight is real. The man and woman look into each other’s eyes, feel the instant connection that bonds them for life, and they’re instantly soul mates. The man swoops in, saves the damsel in distress, and he instantly hangs the moon in her eyes.

  That’s all bullshit. Every last word of it. I watched my mom and dad tear each other apart with their malicious words and conniving backstabbing all through my childhood. I compared those fairytales to real life at a young age. By the time I hit puberty, I swore off ‘love’ and replaced it with ‘lust.’

  A girl falls in lust at first sight and then convinces herself that it’s true love. She believes they’re meant to last forever and can weather any storm. That line of thinking is what fucks up more people than anything. Believing in a lie and trying to live up to the high standard established in our formative years.

  Knowing that, I saved myself from all the heartache that my friends suffered. Any girl who hooked up with me knew the drill. Our trysts would only last for a short time and when I stopped calling, she knew not to chase after me. A couple of girls thought they could change me, make me fall in love with them, and turn me into their fairytale ending. Those girls know better now.

  With that in mind, I realize that I’ve fallen into a very deep and serious case of lust for Miss Mali. It’s more than her beautiful face and her smoking body. I sense a completely different vibe from this girl. She’s confident but reserved. She showed up here without a date, as a third wheel with Jennifer and Vince, but she’s not at all awkward about it.

  Her beauty outshines the hundreds of other girls in this club, but she seems approachable. She can’t be a complete prude because she likes watching the dirty dancing from the sidelines, but she doesn’t indulge in it for very long.

  I’d bet my last dime that I could bring out the wild cat in this little tame kitten.

  “Mali, this is Jagger York. He’s the lead singer of the band,” Jennifer introduces us. “Jagger, this is Mali, a good friend of mine from school. I just found her after all this time, and she’s only here for a little while before I lose her again,” she says, as she throws her arm around Mali’s neck.

  “Hi, Jagger,” she smiles, revealing her straight, perfectly white teeth. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  I reach for her hand, raise it to my lips, and place a soft kiss on it. “Nice to meet you, too, Mali,” I reply. “How long are you in town?”

  “Just for the summer,” she replies.

  “That’s definitely long enough for us to get to know each other very well,” I suggest with a wink.

  Her warm, friendly smile changes into a knowing smile. One that confirms that guys hit on her all the time, attempt to be charming, but she sees straight through their bullshit. It also tells me I’d better change my tactics before she completely kicks me to the curb.

  “Can I get you a drink?” I offer nicely. “My beer is about gone, so I’d be glad to get yours while I’m at the bar.”

  “Sure,” she smiles.

  Her smiles change with what she’s thinking and give her moods away, but I don’t think she realizes it. Knowing what I know about her father, I’d guess that he’s expected her to act a certain way in public. Always polite. Always cordial. Never give the public a reason to think badly of her. But, inside, she wants to say what she really thinks.

  This smile she’s giving me now says she’s plotting. No doubt that she’s about to try to embarrass me or put me in my place with her drink order. That’s okay, wildcat. Keep showing me what you think you’re hiding so well. Two can play this game.

  “I’d like a shot of ‘Cock Sucking Cowboy’ and a ‘Suck, Bang, and Blow’ chaser, please.”

  Oh, she’s good.

  But I’m better.

  “Coming right up.” I emphasize each word and hold her gaze a second longer than normal.

  There’s no way in hell I’m ordering a ‘Cock Sucking Cowboy’ for anyone. But I’ll get her something she’ll love even more than that. After I weave through all the drunken revelers, I get the bartender’s attention and order our drinks.

  I keep from smiling too broadly as I walk back across the crowded club with our drinks in hand. One shot, one mixed drink, and a beer. The anticipation of seeing her face when I tell her what I have for her is killing me.

  “Sorry, but they’re all out of butterscotch schnapps. This is the second best ‘Screaming
Orgasm’ you’ll ever have. Good news is, you can have all the ‘Screaming Orgasms’ and ‘Suck, Bang, and Blows’ you can take,” I say, as I lean in close to her to deliver her second drink.

  Her chest heaves with her excitement, her hooded eyes drop to my mouth, and her fingers brush mine as she takes the shot glass from my hand. She’s definitely affected by the blatant innuendo, she likes my dirty talk, and she wishes I’d continue. But she doesn’t want to be the one to ask.

  No, wildcat, you won’t ask me at all. But you’ll soon beg me.

  “Th-thank you,” she stammers.

  “Any time,” I reply casually. I don’t want her to know that she affects me, too.

  Now is the time to build up the tension in her, make her come to me. As I walk back to the end where my band mates sit, I take my time and make idle chit chat. Her eyes are fixed and locked on my every move. Before I make it back to my seat, a couple of girls grab my hand and try to pull me on the dance floor with them. I politely decline but make it a point to kiss the back of their hands like I did Mali’s.

  When I finally sit, my eyes flit over to look at Mali and I meet her gaze. She doesn’t look pleased. Her eyes cut away from me and find the two girls dancing together in the crowd. She first narrows her eyes at them, then she rolls her eyes in disgust and shakes her head. She throws her head back and swallows her ‘Screaming Orgasm.’

  Did I just detect a hint of jealousy? Nice.

  Dane, Tanner, Wes, and I throw back a few beers and just shoot the shit for a while. Our conversations keep me engaged so much that I don’t even think about giving Mali a second glance. When I finally glance up, Joey Andrews, the club owner, is walking toward us.

  “Nice of you to join us, York,” he smirks.

  “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” I laugh.

  “I need you guys to do me a favor. Our DJ has to go home early and the other one can’t get here for another hour or so. Can you take the stage and fill in the dead air?” Joey asks.

 

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