Newly Exposed

by Meghan Quinn

  Lost in the pictures, I didn’t feel the warm presence walk up behind me until his deep voice rang through my ears.

  “Hi, Solo.”

  My breath caught in my chest as I spun around to find Adam wearing a pair of tight fitting jeans and a faded shirt that had a picture Darth Vader on roller blades on it. His hair was styled and he was looking so damn sexy that I almost couldn’t stand to be near him because it hurt too damn much.

  “Hi,” I said meekly, trying not to cry on the spot from his presence.

  “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  Looking over at the photo shoot and knowing they had everything under control, I nodded my head and let him lead me out to the garden area, where we had some privacy.

  We both sat down on a bench that was right next to a small fountain. The white noise of the water flowing over small rocks did nothing to ease the knot that was forming in my chest from being so close to him again.

  Shyly, I looked up into his eyes to see what he wanted, and a little piece of my heart was glued back in place from the softness I saw in his face.

  Breaking the silence, I asked, “How’s your mom?”

  “Good, it’s going to be a long road to recovery, but her body is taking well to her new heart. The doctors feel very positive about her chances.”

  “That’s great to hear.”

  I wanted to hug him, kiss him, fucking throw my body at his from the news, but I refrained and just gave him a smile instead.

  We sat there in silence like two awkward teenagers on a first date, racking our brains for something say, but nothing was coming to mind. It was almost embarrassing and sad how uncomfortable we were around each other, and I had no one to blame but myself.

  Finally clearing his throat, Adam said, “Um, I came by to see how you were doing.”

  “Me?” I asked, with almost too much shock in my voice.

  He nodded and said, “I was very rude to you in the hospital. I was going through a lot at the time and wanted to apologize for my behavior.”

  Oh, he just wanted to apologize for being rude? My soul sank to the floor as I realized that he wasn’t really here to make up with me, more to save face. I could understand that. He was a sweet man who had a heart of gold, of course he would apologize for his actions in the hospital. I shouldn’t expect anything less.

  “Adam, you don’t need to apologize. I deserved everything you said.”

  “No one deserves to be talked to like that,” he admitted.

  I cleared my throat and said, “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

  He nodded his head and looked down at his hands. It felt like he wanted to say something else, like he wanted to reach out to me, so I was about to apologize once again to maybe help him out, but instead, he stood up from the bench and started to walk away, leaving me to fall into a dark place.

  I watched his backside retreat away from me, and slowly, darkness started to close in around me from knowing that we were truly over. If he was ever going to forgive me, this would be the time, but without a retreating glance back, he walked back into the studio.

  Tears started to fall from my face, and I hated that I was crying again. I didn’t want to cry any more, but that was what Adam did to me, he turned me into a crumbling mess. He completely melted me into an emotional puddle, and there was no chance of recovery, not after knowing what I could have had.

  “Don’t cry,” his voice came from the doorway as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please, don’t cry.”

  I quickly wiped away my tears as he started to walk toward me, but then paused as if he was struggling with himself. He ran both of his hands through his hair, slightly breaking up his fauxhawk.

  “Fuck,” he mumbled to himself, as he turned toward me and sat back down on the bench.

  He looked me dead in the eyes and said, “I’m so fucking in love with you, Solo, but fuck, I’m so mad at you.”

  My heart beat rapidly against my chest from his words. He still loved me? I couldn’t believe it. He still loved me, after everything I put him through. I didn’t deserve his love, but fuck if I wasn’t going to take it.

  “I’m sorry, Adam,” I blurted out, not letting go of this small window he granted me of mending our broken hearts. “I’m so sorry. If I could take back everything, I would. If I could go back in time and give myself the courage it takes to be with a man like you, then I would. If I could slap myself in the face and open my eyes to see the blatant display of love you’ve given me, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I can’t take any of that back; all I can do is move forward and tell you that ever since you walked into my life, you’ve flipped my world upside down, and there is no one else I want holding me at night, making love to me, and talking nerdy to me.”

  A slight smirk spread across his face as he nodded his head, giving me hope, so much fucking hope.

  “Call me crazy,” he said, as he took my hand in his, “but for the life of me, I can’t seem to shake you out of my system. I wanted to hurt you, to just fuck it and forget every moment I ever shared with you, but it was impossible, Solo. You’ve latched yourself onto my heart, onto my soul, and there is no way I could ever let you go, ever.”

  Tears streamed down my face as he laced his free hand behind my neck and pulled me to his lips. Lightly, he kissed me across the mouth, and then rested his forehead against mine, looking me in the eyes. I felt like I was going to burst from the pure joy running through my veins from having Adam hold me, love me.

  “I can’t promise you that life with me is going to be easy, Solo, that there aren’t going to be women throwing themselves at me, but I can promise you this, you’re the only one that has ever held my heart, and with everything in me, I trust you with it. I’m fighting for you, for us, Solo. I want us.”

  “I want us too,” I cried, not being able to contain my emotions.

  He pulled me onto his lap and I straddled his legs as his hands went to my hips. He looked me up and down and said, “I can’t lose this again, Solo. I can’t lose you again. It hurts too damn much. Please promise me you will talk to me…that you’ll trust me with your heart and know that the only damn person I’ve ever wanted is you.”

  I nodded and pressed my lips gently against his. “I trust you, Adam. I can’t be without you anymore. This past week, I’ve felt like I wasn’t really living, just walking through the motions of life. My life lacked color, but the moment I met you, I knew what love really was. You brightened my life and made me see what a true soul mate is. I’m not letting go of you, Adam. You’re mine.”

  My thumbs rubbed his cheeks as his eyes spoke to me, conveying how much he really loved me.

  “You’re so fucking mine,” he said. “I’m locked in, you’re mine forever, muffin.”

  A smile spread across my face from his pet name that I craved now, and in that moment, I knew that I would forever be happy as long as I was in Adam’s arms…as long as our souls were latched together.

  Epilogue

  Adam

  “Can you stop asking questions?” I said to a blindfolded Solo, who held her arms out while I walked her around the side of the pool.

  “I’m sorry, but you’ve blindfolded me and are walking me around the pool outside. Sorry if I’m a bit inquisitive.”

  “What happened to trust, muffin?” I teased.

  “There is plenty of trust; I just hate surprises.”

  “You didn’t say that last night when Just-In Beaver gave you an impromptu concert in the shower.”

  Laughing, she said, “I hate you.”

  “Sorry, can’t fool me, muffin. I know the undying love you have for me.”

  “Can’t fool you,” she said, with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Always a ball buster. “Are we almost there?”

  “Yes, Miss Impatient. I mean, damn, can’t a guy be romantic?”

  Growing a serious face that held a bit of a smirk, she said, “I’m sorry, romance away.”

  “Thank you.”

 
I sat her down on our lounge, then sat next to her and pulled off her blindfold. She blinked for a second and then took in the scene in front of her.

  There was a big white sheet against the side of the house, which I’d moved our lounge in front of, and I’d hung some lights across the lawn on poles to add some mood lighting. Behind us was a projector, and in front of us were some snacks, and most importantly, some cinnamon buns.

  She cocked an eyebrow and said, “What do you have planned in that head of yours?”

  “Don’t worry; the buns are for eating,” I wiggled my eyebrows at her, making her laugh. “Ever since I met you, from the very first date we shared, we’ve bonded over the most electrifying and mind blowing series in cinematic history, Star Wars, and what I realized is that we’ve shamefully never watched them together, so Solo, my little muffin, will you geek out with me?”

  Her smile melted my heart as she said, “Are you asking to have a Star Wars-a-thon with me?”

  “I believe I am,” I said seriously.

  “That’s a big commitment. Are you ready for something that serious?”

  “Oh, I am. I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” I answered.

  “Then I think it’s time you cuddle the fuck out of me,” she said with a sly grin.

  “Is that a challenge? Because you know I can cuddle you so fucking hard.”

  “Prove it,” she said with a lifted chin.

  I pulled her between my legs and made her rest her back against my chest. I pulled out a remote and started A New Hope, the first movie in the ONLY Star Wars trilogy. We sat in silence as the opening text of one of the most brilliant movies of all time started to scroll across the screen.

  She sighed into my chest and I leaned over to her ear, gave her a soft kiss, and said, “I love you, muffin, so fucking much.”

  She bent her head back to look up at me and smiled that gorgeous smile of hers, which continued the steady rhythm of my heart.

  “I love you, too, Adam.”

  Kissing her lips, I relished the feel of her body against mine, and then turned back to the screen. This woman in my arms was it for me. I would never walk alone again, no more endless nights, no more burden of pain hanging over my shoulders, not when I had Solo in my arms. I gave her all of me, and she gave me all of her; we were one beating heart.

  The sex part of a relationship was easy, taking off your clothes and making love to someone, but it’s the act of stripping down your soul, baring yourself to someone else, letting them know your dreams and goals, that’s what truly makes you exposed, and until you do that, until you completely strip your emotions open for the one person in your life who can make you or break you, then you’re not living.

  I’ve never felt more exposed or alive in my entire life with Solo in my arms, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

  Keep clicking through for a sneak peek at chapter one from The Virgin Romance Novelist!

  Thank you for reading Newly Exposed! I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please help other readers find this book:

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  If you enjoyed Newly Exposed, check out some of my other books…

  The Virgin Romance Novelist

  The Bourbon Series

  Becoming a Jett Girl

  Being a Jett Girl

  Forever a Jett Girl

  The Hot-Lanta Series

  Caught Looking

  Playing the Field

  Warning Track

  The Love and Sports Series

  Fair Catch

  Double Coverage

  Three and Out

  The Warblers Point Series

  Beers, Hens and Irishmen

  Beers, Lies and Alibis

  The Addiction Series

  Toxic

  Fame

  The Virgin Romance Novelist

  Meghan Quinn

  Chapter One

  The Briar Patch

  Her bosom heaved at an alarming rate as his rough hand found its way down to her soft, yet wiry briar patch…

  “Briar patch? What the hell are you writing?”

  “Jesus!” I screamed, as I slammed my computer screen of my laptop shut. “Henry, you can’t just walk up on me and start reading my stories.”

  “Stories?” he asked, while creasing his brow. “Bosom, briar patch? Are you writing a sex scene?”

  “Why, yes. In fact, I am,” I said, while sticking my chin up in the air.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and said, “What the hell are you referring to as a briar patch?”

  Feeling the heat of his question start to show on my face, I turned from him in my chair and stacked up my notes so they were neatly put together. Briar patch was a well-respected term to use to refer to a lady’s’ private area, at least that’s what my mother taught me.

  “Rosie, what were you referring to?”

  Clearing my throat and with my chest puffed out, I looked him in the eyes and said, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was referring to a lady’s peaceful pleasure garden.”

  I watched as Henry carefully studied me with those blue green eyes of his that have spent the last six years studying me and my eccentricities. He was my first ever true friend, and he accepted me for who I was the first day we met: a homeschooled, sheltered, naïve girl being thrown into her first day of college.

  Finally, he threw his head back and laughed, causing me to tense immediately; even though we were best friends, I still felt self-conscious about my lack of “modern verbiage.”

  “What’s so funny?” I asked, while holding my notebook close to my chest.

  “Rosie, please tell me you don’t call a lady’s vagina her pleasure garden.”

  “Henry,” I hushed him.

  That garnered another laugh from him as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and walked me out of my room of the apartment we shared together with our other roommate, Delaney.

  “Rosie, if you can’t say vagina out loud, then there is no way you will be able to write about throbbing penises and aroused nipples.”

  Heat washed through me at the mention of a throbbing penis, something I’ve never experienced firsthand. The only penises I’ve seen were courtesy of Tumblr and some careful Googling. I would rather study one in person, because from what I could see from the Internet and what I’ve read in other romance novels, they had a mind of their own…twitching and rising when aroused. I was fascinated to see an actual boner take place. What would happen if I touched it? That was a question that was constantly on my mind.

  Growing up, I was very much sheltered by my parents. I was homeschooled and spent many days on the beach or in my room reading. Anything written by Jane Austen was my go-to book, until I found one of my mother’s dirty novels in her night stand. We didn’t talk about sex, ever, so it fascinated me to read a book about heaving breasts and thick bulges. I couldn’t help it; I was hooked.

  Ever since then, I’ve been reading romance novels. When I was young, I would only read in the library, so I was never caught by my mom, and I got away with it. During college, I focused on my school work, so it wasn’t until I graduated that I started reading again, feeding the passion for romance inside of me.

  “Hey, are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Delaney, my best friend and roommate asked as she looked at me with her hand on her robe-covered hip and her hair tucked up into a towel.

  “Umm, no,” I said with an innocent smile. When did Delaney even show up? “What were you saying?”

  Rolling her eyes, Delaney repeated herself, “Have you started writing your romance novel again?”

  The way Delaney said romance novel in her haughty voice wa
s a little frustrating. I had known Henry and Delaney since my freshman year in college, where we met at freshman orientation and found out we were all majoring in English. For those four years, we had the same classes, same schedules and same housing. We moved off campus after our freshman year and lived in a small three bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, where we currently still live.

  Unluckily for me, the walls are thin, the space is tight, and I unfortunately get to know every single person my roommates bring home on an intimate level. Henry was a ladies’ man, no surprise there, given his tanned skin, blue-green eyes and brown hair that was styled just right. Delaney, on the other hand, had a couple of relationships throughout college, but was now serious with her latest boo, Derk. Yes, Derk. Hideous name, especially when it’s screamed at the top of Delaney’s lungs as her headboard slams against my wall.

  Now that we’ve graduated, we’re still living together, but going our separate ways in the work force. Henry got a job with one of the top marketing firms, Bentley Marketing, editing ads, and Delaney is working as a freelance writer for Cosmopolitan. She started writing articles about anything from haircuts for the summer to how to maximize your orgasm count in a night. I had that article saved in my notebook, as research.

  Me, well, I wasn’t as lucky when it came to the job force and was unfortunately offered a job at Friendly Felines, where I write about the new and upcoming clumping formulas in cat litter. Our offices are located in Manhattan, but in the smallest of buildings, where my boss insists upon having a gaggle of unneutered and randy cats, who seem to be in heat every day. Have you ever listened to a cat whine from needing a little attention when in heat? Yeah, sounds like its dying. Try writing in an environment like that. I’m a walking fur ball when I leave work.

  To keep myself from ending up as a crazy cat lady who doesn’t mind when she eats thirty percent cat hair with each meal, I decided to write a romance novel. I’m the girl who lives in fantasies where love always prevails and a hero is just waiting around the corner to swoop in on his white horse to save you. Given my love for love and my ability to get lost in my writing, I didn’t think it would be so hard to write my first romance, given the fact that it’s my favorite genre, but I forgot about one little speed bump in that plan. I was still a virgin.