Blackout: A Romance Anthology

by Stephanie St. Klaire

  About six months later...

  The lights glittered above as I laid down my cards. I was back in Vegas. The power was most definitely on.

  I felt a warm touch on my thigh. Jacob’s palm coasted over the smooth surface of my skirt to the hem. I was instantly distracted and glanced to him. His eyes caught mine, the lights glinting off his dark hair. There was a wicked gleam in his gaze, and it made me squirm in my seat.

  “What are you doing?” I hissed under my breath.

  Jacob leaned over, his breath teasing my ear and sending prickles over the surface of my skin. “Making you crazy,” he murmured, right before his palm coasted under my skirt and his fingers teased between my thighs.

  Dear God.

  This man.

  He knew how to make me crazy.

  I studiously looked away. I mean, I was in the middle of gambling. I needed to focus.

  In the six months or so that had passed since our last trip here, things had moved quickly with us. If it didn’t feel so incredibly right, I might’ve started to panic.

  When my lease came up on my apartment a few months ago, Jacob cajoled me into moving in with him. Not that he had to try too hard. We spent every night together as it was. Of course, his place was much nicer, and I tried to protest. He silenced me with kiss after kiss after kiss, telling me he loved me, and it wasn’t about his place being better, it was because we belonged together.

  You try saying no to that.

  Of course, I loved him. So much it hurt sometimes.

  With him teasing the damp silk between my thighs, I forfeited the game and we left.

  The private elevator to our penthouse suite was beginning to feel like our own personal sex playground. On the way up, he sent me flying with his fingers before we stumbled through the door.

  The sex between us was amazing, and I was beginning to wonder if it would ever fade. But that wasn’t what made me love Jacob so much. It was his solid, steady affection, the way he was with Chocolate and every rescue I brought to his much nicer place than mine.

  It was the look in his eyes, and how he made me dinner when I was tired. It was how he made me feel more protected and more secure than I had ever felt in my life.

  It was how I occasionally saw the glimmers of vulnerability in his eyes and knew it was a leap of faith every time he let his heart stay open to me. Because that’s what love was, every single day. Trying again and getting past the fear.

  ***

  Jacob

  No one ever did find out what caused the blackout during the time when our paths fatefully crossed in Las Vegas. Aidan and I did a lot of digging on our own, along with others we were affiliated with in the security world. We were able to pin down a hack as the cause, but not who was responsible.

  It still bothered me. I liked answers, and I didn’t like it when I couldn’t find them. I was still grateful the power had gone out. I don’t know what would’ve happened if it hadn’t. It tilted my world sideways with Ellie and pushed us both to drop our guards in ways we might not have otherwise.

  I woke up beside her in Vegas. She was warm and burrowed against my side. Her preferred way of sleeping was with her head tucked against my shoulder and one of her feet between my calves. I didn’t mind one bit.

  I usually woke up with my hand cupping her sweet ass, and this morning was no exception. I also usually preferred to dally and tease her to madness before we got out of bed.

  Today, however, I had plans.

  As much as I wanted to stay in bed beside her, I had another priority. I eased away from her, praying she would stay asleep, and breathed a sigh of relief when she did. Once I was up, I called down to the main desk. Within minutes, the ring I had looked for high and low for her was delivered.

  Ellie was an artist. Getting her the perfect ring wasn’t about money, or a big diamond. Not at all. It was about finding the exact right thing that was just for her and, of course, custom-made.

  I had talked to Aidan, Becca, and even some of her close friends in my search. I eventually chased down a jeweler she loved in Vancouver, British Columbia. It had required my passport and several personal visits to hammer out the design. After all of that, I’d had it delivered here. Vegas was meaningful to me due to what it represented with regard to Ellie, who held my heart in her hands.

  Every. Single. Day.

  After the ring was delivered, I inspected it at the counter once again. It was a platinum band set with an amethyst, her favorite stone. It was simple, elegant and perfect.

  After that, I started coffee and ordered room service for breakfast. I was restless for Ellie to wake up. She was usually an early riser, as I was. Yet this morning, I didn’t expect her up as early because we had stayed out late the night before. It was Vegas when night became day.

  Blessedly, I didn’t have to wait long. She came wandering out of the bedroom, wearing my button-down shirt, which hung halfway down her thighs. With her hair a tousled mess and her eyes hazed with sleep, she smiled when she saw me.

  “Good morning. You’re up early today.”

  I pulled her close, bending low to press a kiss to her lips. She tasted minty. “You already brushed your teeth,” I observed as I pulled back.

  She shrugged. “Of course.”

  I was unaccountably nervous. For a man who rarely worried, my heart was thudding hard in my chest, and I was anxious for her to get her coffee. I didn’t think it was best to ambush her with a marriage proposal before she was fully awake.

  Just then, there was a knock at the door. She glanced over as she was adding cream to her coffee, a puzzled look on her face.

  “I ordered us brunch,” I explained as I strode to the door, breathing a silent sigh of relief. My plan was falling into place.

  The delivery waiter wheeled the cart in after I deftly slipped the ring box under the cover for her favorite French toast. Within minutes, we were sitting down at the table, and she lifted the lid, her eyes going wide at the sight of the blue velvet box.

  “Oh my God,” she murmured, her eyes swinging to mine as she stared at the box. “Jacob, is this what I think it is?”

  “Maybe. I know that it comes with a question.”

  Her eyes glistened with tears. “Go ahead, you should look first,” I said, willing my pounding heart to slow, and failing.

  She lifted the box gingerly, her hands shaking. When she opened it, her breath came out in a rush. “Oh. Oh my. It’s beautiful.”

  She leapt up from her chair, racing around the small table and flinging herself in my lap. In the process, she knocked my coffee on the floor and we almost tipped over my plate.

  It didn’t matter. I had a bundle of Ellie in my lap and that was all that really mattered.

  “Yes,” she declared as she peppered my face with kisses. I felt light, lighter than I had in years.

  “You didn’t even give me a chance to ask.”

  “Oh right. Were you planning to ask me to marry you?” she asked in between kisses.

  “Yes.”

  “Then, that’s my answer. Yes.” Kiss. “Yes.” Kiss. “Yes.” She finished off with one more kiss.

  My throat was tight with emotion and my heart swelled so hard, I thought it might break through the bounds of my ribs. Tears weren’t something that came for me often, but right now, my eyes were damp.

  “I thought Vegas was the best place for this.”

  “Ooh, are we going to elope?”

  I laughed, holding her close against me, feeling the beat of her heart against my chest.

  “That’s what I was hoping for, but I don’t know if it counts as eloping when I was kind of planning on it.”

  I couldn’t quite believe Ellie was mine.

  She leaned back, sniffling a little as she wiped the tears away from her eyes with her knuckles. “Were you worried I wouldn’t say yes?”

  “Seeing as this is the biggest question I’ve ever asked anyone in my life, yes, I was a little worried.”

  She twisted her lips
to the side and wrinkled her nose before leaning forward to press her forehead against mine. “With us, there was never any doubt.”

  Just us. Always.

  ABOUT J.H. CROIX

  USA Today Bestselling Author J. H. Croix lives in a small town in the historical farmlands of Maine with her husband and two spoiled dogs. Croix writes steamy contemporary romance with sassy women and alpha men who aren't afraid to show some emotion. Her love for quirky small-towns and the characters that inhabit them shines through in her writing. Take a walk on the wild side of romance with her bestselling novels!

  Places you can find me:

  Website

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  ***

  Thank you for reading Just Us! I hope you loved Jacob & Ellie’s story! For more steamy romance, check out Aidan & Becca’s story in Just This Once. Aidan is a sexy, alpha SEAL who’s been half in love with Becca for years. One night turns into so much more. Tall, dark, sexy, and oh-so-alpha, don’t miss Aidan’s story. Click here: https://books2read.com/u/47xNG7

  For a sneak peek at my latest series, check out Burn For Me - a second chance romance for the ages. It’s FREE on all retailers. Amelia & Cade were high school sweethearts before it all fell apart. When they cross paths again, it’s epic - don’t miss Cade’s story! Click here: https://books2read.com/u/bP5qO7

  BOOKS BY J.H. CROIX

  Into The Fire Series

  Burn For Me

  Slow Burn

  Burn So Bad

  Hot Mess

  Burn So Good

  Sweet Fire

  Play With Fire

  Melt With You

  Burn For You

  Crash & Burn

  Brit Boys Sports Romance

  The Play

  Big Win

  Out Of Bounds

  Play Me

  Naughty Wish

  Diamond Creek Alaska Novels

  When Love Comes

  Follow Love

  Love Unbroken

  Love Untamed

  Tumble Into Love

  Christmas Nights

  Last Frontier Lodge Novels

  Take Me Home

  Love at Last

  Just This Once

  Falling Fast

  Stay With Me

  When We Fall

  Hold Me Close

  Crazy For You

  BLIND FAITH

  By Lauren Runow

  CHAPTER 1

  “Who’s ready to celebrate?” my sister, Samantha, says as she stands in my doorway, holding up a bottle of champagne.

  “Give me five,” I respond, opening my front door wide for her to come in as I turn to head back to my bedroom to finish getting ready.

  “I’ll make us road sodas for the drive!” She steps into my place with a hop to her movement.

  “None for me, thanks,” I yell from my hallway.

  “Gemma, it’s the beginning to our girls’ weekend. Live a little.” She pouts.

  “Yeah, but I’m driving, remember?” I give her the stern eye our parents always gave us as I enter the room again.

  “Boo, you’re no fun. Always following the rules.”

  Yep, that’s me. The good sister. The one who always has to watch over my older sister, keeping her in line and making sure she doesn’t get caught for all the shenanigans she gets into.

  Like her last marriage. Yes, I say last because this is her second divorce. You’d think she learned her lesson after marrying a guy who had to drink a bottle of vodka just to get out of bed. Not even a year after that divorce, she was in love again and eloped with a guy she’d met a week prior at a travel agency. Good ole Ronaldo.

  Turns out, he was more in the market for a green card than a wife. She knew he was from Italy. She knew he had a business he was trying to save. What she didn’t know was the business was over a hundred thousand dollars in debt, and due to multiple leans against the company, he was going to lose his work visa and be sent back to Italy.

  The honeymoon ended fast for her when the immigration authorities showed up at her door, questioning their marriage and her role in keeping him in the country on false premises.

  She fought for him, trying to prove they were in love and that their marriage was legitimate. Then, she caught him with his pants around his ankles, bucking behind a male prostitute in the storage closet at his travel company.

  Immigration took away the husband, the police escorted the prostitute to jail, and a judge absolved the marriage. It was a long legal battle that ended with the final annulment papers arriving last week.

  Now, we’re doing what everyone would do when celebrating a divorce; we’re heading to Vegas.

  “My car, my rules,” I admonish. “You should be thankful I’m allowing you to ride in my car with your road soda.”

  She laughs as she pours the champagne into a to-go cup. “Where are Carrie and Sarah?”

  “We told them to be here by five o’clock, so they should be here any minute.”

  Carrie and Sarah have been friends with Samantha since grade school. When we were little, they used to tease me, and I’d annoy them, like all little sisters do. As the years went on, they accepted me into their group, and they’ve become like big sisters to me … loud, wild, and crazy big sisters. This is going to be an interesting weekend.

  A knock on the door makes Sam jump in excitement. She runs to it, swinging it open. “There are my bitches!”

  They both squeal and run into a hug as a threesome. I stare in fear.

  The three of them together look like a commercial for G by Guess or Charlotte Russe stores. Body suits—yes, they are making a comeback—crop tops, skinny jeans, and tight dresses I’m sure fill their suitcases.

  I’m not against any of those things, but I like to balance one out with a bigger version of the other in terms of skinny jeans, flats, and a flowing top. Having all those tight clothes on is not comfortable. I’m more of the function type rather than fashion.

  They look ready for a good time, no matter what time of day it is, even a drive to Vegas in the back of a Honda Civic.

  What in the world am I getting myself into?

  “Drink for my ladies?” Sam motions them to the makeshift bar she’s created on my counter.

  They waste no time in filling up their cups, and twenty minutes later, we’re on the road, driving toward Vegas. I pull up my Britney Spears playlist and blast it through the speakers to get ready for the concert we’re going to while we’re there.

  “Do you guys remember the movie Shag from when we were little? That is so us right now. I feel like I’m that character who peels off her scarf and yells, ‘Turn up the radio,’ and then yells at the top of her lungs.” Sam raises her arms wide above her head like the character in the movie.

  The only differences are the characters were in high school, driving in a convertible, and heading through the pure town of Myrtle Beach. We’re in our early thirties, driving in my Honda, and heading out of Torrance, California, and into Sin City.

  ***

  As we pull into the Paris Las Vegas hotel, I look out the front window at the huge replica of the Eiffel Tower and sigh. Going to Paris, France, is number one on my bucket list but still seems so far away. Seeing it here just makes me realize I’m nowhere near close to marking anything off that list.

  I had this vision of finding the guy of my dreams in college. He’d propose under the Eiffel Tower when we backpacked across Europe, and we’d have two kids and a beautiful house with a lap dog by the time I was thirty.

  Yeah … that never happened.

  Instead, I walked in on my college boyfriend having sex with my roommate, and the only serious relationship I’ve had since him ended when I finally realized he had no ambition in life, and playing video games while working odd jobs to get by was totally okay with him.

  The valet meets us at the car. “Howdy, ladies. Are you staying at the hotel tonight?”

 
“Take this thing and park it far away for the next few days,” Sam replies as she gets out of the car and points to me with a laugh. “We are getting this one as drunk as a skunk.”

  Carrie and Sarah hoot and holler their agreement as we all hop out of the car.

  I hand the guy my keys. “We’ll be staying a few nights.”

  He gives me a card, telling me to bring it to the bellhop when we’re checked in.

  Once we’re up in the room, Sam opens her suitcase to reveal a bottle of Fireball. “Who wants shots?” she dances holding the bottle up high.

  Carrie and Sarah take their shots as I stake my claim on the side of the bed closest to the window and lug my suitcase up on top of it.

  “Come on, you, too, Gemma.” She hands me the bottle.

  Knowing I’ll regret this later, I grab it from her. Holding it up, I say, “I guess, if we’re going to party, there’s no better way than to start it off with a shot of Fireball!”

  I take a swig directly from the bottle and let out a breath through my teeth as the burn runs down my throat. When it hits my stomach, the shakes take over my entire body.

  “Woohoo!” Sam yells. “Gemma’s ready to party now!”

  I hand her back the bottle, grimacing from the flames growing in my belly. I’ve never been a big partier, but when I go out, I like to have fun and let loose. Then, I remember quickly why I don’t go out, and it takes me another six months to a year to be brave enough—or forget—what the aftermath feels like.

  “Are we dressing up before we go to dinner or coming back to the room before we hit up the clubs?” Carrie asks.

  She’s in the same boat as Sam when it comes to relationships. She and her longtime boyfriend just called it quits, and I know she’s ready to sow some wild oats to make up for lost time.

  Sam reaches into her bag, pulling out a slinky gold number, and swings it around. “Definitely before. I don’t want to be back in this room unless I’m with a hot guy or passed out on that bed. I’m here to get fucked up, and I’m not stopping till I do.”

  Sarah and I meet eyes. Between the three of them, she’s the one I am most similar to, and it’s good to know she’s thinking the same thing I am. We stare at each other like we’re playing a mental game of Rock-Paper-Scissors, trying to see who will take care of her tonight.