by M. S. Parker
The heat of the alcohol coiled in my belly, feeding my own arousal. I wasn’t the kind of person who had to have sex all the time, but for the last eight years, Allen and I had been making love consistently. The last four months had been the longest I’d gone without it since the first time Allen and I had slept together.
As I felt Jasper harden against my stomach, my body throbbed in response. I pushed aside any thoughts or doubts. I was tired of thinking and doubting. I just wanted to feel and my entire body agreed with me.
“Shae,” Jasper breathed against my mouth. “We shouldn’t...you’re drunk.”
“No talking, please, Jas. I’m sober enough for this.” I twisted my fingers in his hair and pulled his head down for another kiss.
I wasn’t sure how we ended up in the house, or when we made it up the stairs, only that by the time we stumbled into my bedroom, I knew I didn’t want him to stop. His kisses were fierce, desperate. For some reason, I’d assumed he’d be gentle, but his fingers dug into my flesh as he held me to him, his teeth and lips bruising my mouth.
My fingers felt thick, clumsy, as I worked opened the buttons to his shirt, needing to feel him. His chest was firm, the light dusting of hair rubbing against my palms as I pushed the shirt from his shoulders. I raked my nails lightly over his nipples and he growled. The sound went straight through me.
He yanked my shirt over my head and I very much needed us both to be naked. I unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor. As I kicked off my shoes, Jasper tugged off his pants. When he straightened, he looked at me, emotions playing across his face. I almost asked him about them, but I didn’t. Instead, I held out my hand and let him pull me to him, let him lower me to the bed. I didn’t want to talk.
His lips trailed over my jaw even as his hands roamed my body, burning a path over my ribs and down my hips. He pulled my leg up, grinding down against me. I moaned as his cock rubbed against the crotch of my now-wet panties. He nipped at my neck, fingers squeezing my leg. I tipped my head back, needing more of his mouth.
Suddenly, he raised himself up on his hands and looked down at me. “You’re so beautiful.”
He brushed hair back from my face, then let his fingers dance down across my collarbone. When his fingertips ghosted across the tops of my breasts, something like reverence showed on his face. I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair.
“Please, Jas,” I whispered.
He slid down my body, hooking his fingers in the waistband of my panties as he went. He settled between my legs, but didn’t give me a chance to process the fact that Jasper Whitehall, my late husband’s best friend and former college roommate, was about to go down on me.
My back arched, crying out as he pressed his mouth against me. I came almost instantly, my body so desperate for release that the feel of his tongue sliding inside me was enough to trigger the start of an orgasm that continued to roll over me in a never-ending wave.
Allen had always treated me like I was going to break, making love to me with his mouth, sending gentle ripples of pleasure through me. Even when he'd been a little forceful, I'd known he'd been holding back.
Jasper went down like he kissed. Determined, single-minded. Intense. When he sucked my clit between his lips, he pushed a finger inside me and I cried out again. Tears squeezed out from under my eyelids. It had been so long...
“Come for me, Shae.”
A second finger joined the first before I’d been fully stretched, and he curled them. I knew what he was searching for and nearly screamed when he found it, pressing and rubbing the spot until I was writhing on the bed, my body shaking. When he pulled his fingers out, I made a half-sobbing sound.
Instantly, he was leaning over me, concern dampening the lust on his face. “Shae, are you okay?”
I didn’t trust myself to answer in a steady voice, so I did the only thing I could think of. I reached down between us and cupped him through his underwear. He hissed, a shudder running through him.
“Condoms?” His voice was hoarse.
I gestured towards the drawer on what had been Allen’s side of the bed. I pushed the thought of him out of my head, concentrating on stripping off my bra as Jasper retrieved the condom. By the time I’d finished, he had too and was once again between my legs.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
I slid my hands down his back and grabbed his ass, digging my nails in.
“Ah!”
The sound burst out of me as he surged forward, burying himself inside me with one nearly painful thrust. I could feel my nails breaking his skin but couldn’t move, couldn’t think. He wasn’t longer than Allen, but he was thicker and my body wasn’t sure what to do with the conflicting sensations rushing through me.
Suddenly, I was aware of a hand on my cheek and Jasper saying my name.
“Shae, did I hurt you? I’m sorry. I didn’t...”
“No,” I finally managed to gasp. “It’s just – it’s just been a while.”
He leaned down and brushed his lips lightly across mine. “I know.” He rocked his hips slightly, drawing a sharp breath from me. “Let me take care of you.”
I nodded, my hands moving up his back to his neck, my fingers playing with his hair. He pulled back and then thrust forward, making me cry out. I rested my heels on the back of his thighs, feeling the powerful muscles contract with every stroke. My eyes locked with his as he drove into me, filling me completely each time. There was no teasing, no hesitation. I could see in his eyes how much he wanted me and it fueled my own desire. I’d known I missed the physical contact, but I hadn’t realized how much I needed to be wanted.
Keeping himself propped on one elbow, he slid his free hand down my side. His fingers grazed the side of my ass as he curled his fingers around my thigh. Without taking his eyes off of me, he hooked my leg over his arm, lifting it until my calf rested against his upper arm.
“Yes!” The word exploded out of me as he snapped his hips forward, the new angle allowing for a different kind of penetration. He hit that spot just right, then did it again. White dots sparked in front of my eyes and I squeezed them closed.
“Let go.” His tongue flicked against the tip of my nipple and I moaned. “I’ve got you, Shae. You can let go.”
When his teeth closed on my nipple, lightly tugging at the sensitive flesh, I did as he said and let myself fall apart. I let go of it all. The pain, the doubt, the confusion. I just let myself feel. Feel Jasper’s hot mouth around my nipple, the sharp bite of his teeth, the soothing licks of his tongue. Feel him inside me, dragging over my g-spot, stretching me wide. Feel the friction of the base of his cock rubbing against my swollen clit.
I was shaking, my body protesting the overload of sensation as it all culminated in a toe-curling burst of pleasure. I cried out, biting my bottom lip to muffle the sound. I didn’t know if I was going to say Allen’s name, but I didn’t want to risk it. It would’ve been involuntary, a conditioned reaction from having had only one lover, but I knew it would hurt Jasper, and I never wanted to do that.
His body covered mine, face buried in my neck as his rhythm faltered. He wrapped his arms around me, and I clung to him, his solid body a rock, unmovable, unshaken. He thrust himself deep and groaned my name. I could feel his muscles tensing, his cock pulsing inside me, and I held him close. I ran my fingers through his hair as I kissed his temple. I felt my eyelids closing and didn’t fight them. I was a sweaty, sticky mess, but all I wanted to do was sleep.
And I did.
At some point during the night, I became aware that Jasper must’ve cleaned us both up and then come back to bed. He was behind me, his arms wrapped around me. I had a fleeting moment of wistful wishing that it was Allen, but it left as I fell asleep again, feeling safe and protected in my friend’s embrace.
When I woke up for real, the first thing I realized was that Jasper was gone. Then I saw the time and realized that he’d probably left for work. Opening the practice on Saturdays had been his idea, so he worked
most of them. As I stretched out my hand to the empty side of the bed, I saw a piece of paper on the pillow.
I had to leave for work and didn’t want to wake you. There’s aspirin and water next to the bed in case you have a hangover. Text or call if you want to talk about what happened. I can come by after five if you want. No pressure, no strings and no expectations. - Jas
I let out a breath and smiled. I hadn’t let myself think about what this would do to my friendship with Jasper, and I knew that was why he’d left me the note. He’d wanted to assure me that he wasn’t going to read more into last night than had been there. I rolled over and took the aspirin he’d left me. I didn’t know how I felt about what had happened. Well, how I felt other than pleasantly sore. My nipple throbbed and I realized Jasper must’ve been a bit rougher than I’d realized. The emotional part of it though, I wasn’t quite sure I was ready for.
I pushed the confusing thoughts from my mind as I got up. My sheets needed washed anyway, so I pulled them off the bed. After a moment, I pulled the pillowcase off of Allen’s pillow and tossed the linen into a nearby basket. It was time.
I showered, shivering as I passed the washcloth between my legs. I’d never imagined what Jasper would be like in bed, but I realized now that if I had, I wouldn’t have thought he’d be so passionate. He always seemed so self-controlled, so composed. Now, I’d gotten the impression that he’d actually been holding back. Good thing too, because my skin was so sensitive that wearing jeans would be impossible. Every step would rub against me.
Since it was Saturday, I chose comfortable, loose-fitting sweats and a sweatshirt before heading down to the kitchen. While in the middle of making myself a fruit salad for breakfast, someone knocked on the door. I hurried to open it, wondering if maybe Jasper had taken off early to come back and talk. It wasn’t Jasper though.
“Mrs. Lockwood.” The mailman smiled at me as he handed me a package and the rest of my mail. “Oh, I guess one of those in there got lost for a couple months. We’re really sorry about that. If you want to speak with a supervisor about it, just give us a call.”
I thanked him and went back into the house. I set the package down on the table and made a mental note to walk it down to the vineyard office later. It was a part for some machine. I was more interested in the lost letter. I hadn’t had any angry bill collectors, so I didn’t think it was that. It was probably a sympathy card, I realized as I sat down on the couch. I tossed aside the junk mail and put the electric bill on the coffee table next to the package.
It had to be this one. A regular envelope, no return address, and a postal marking with a date from the middle of June. The day before Allen died, in fact. So not a sympathy card. My name and address had been printed from a machine, so that didn’t help. When I opened it, I found a single sheet of computer paper and a typed letter.
My eyes automatically fell to the bottom of the page and I sucked in a breath. Blood rushed in my ears and I couldn’t move.
Allen.
It was right there in black and white.
Love always, Allen.
I went back to the top, barely able to think over the pounding of my heart.
My darling,
My love, I wished I never had to write this letter, but we can’t always get what we want. I wanted to stay with you forever and I know now that isn’t going to happen. I’m sick. Creutzfeldt-Jakob. No cure. Fast.
There’s nothing anyone can do and they’ve given me only a few months. I’ve made sure that you’ll be taken care of, but I can’t put you through months of debilitating illness. I’ll just get worse until I finally can’t move or speak and you’ll have to watch me die.
I don’t want that. I want to go out on my own terms. It has to look like an accident though. I got Jasper to clear me for an insurance policy and there won’t be any question that it was an accident. He’s a good man, always thinking of others. Use the money to start a new life away from here. That’s what I want for you.
Love always, Allen.
I read it again, but it said the same thing.
Allen had been dying.
He’d killed himself.
He’d taken out the life insurance policy so I could leave St. Helena.
And Jasper had known everything.
A Wicked Kiss: Wicked Book 2
By M.S. Parker
Chapter 1
I didn’t know what to do. Three months ago, my husband, Allen Lockwood, had died in what I’d thought – what everyone had thought – was a freak accident. I’d been with Allen for eight years and losing him had nearly killed me. I’d had to fight my way back through grief, through legal battles with my late husband’s asshole relatives, through deciding what I wanted to do with the rest of my life now that everything had gone ass-end-up.
I was a widow at twenty-six. I’d met Allen my freshman year of college and while I’d continued pursuing my degree in early childhood education, all of my plans for the future had included him from nearly that moment on. Marriage, children...
I winced and closed my eyes. Just before Allen died, we’d talked about starting a family. For a few weeks after the...accident, I’d even worried that I was pregnant.
Hoped.
Worried.
Hoped.
I sighed. I hadn’t been pregnant and I still didn’t know if I was happy or sad that I wasn’t carrying Allen’s child. What I did know was that it had added a layer of stress that I hadn’t needed at the time.
And then had come the insurance policy, the million dollar one that I never knew anything about. That had been the first hint that Allen had been hiding things from me.
Jasper had told me that it was nothing, that Allen had probably taken out the policy because he’d known that his parents and siblings would fight me for the vineyard where we’d been living together since I’d graduated from college and he’d wanted me to have something until the legal shit was worked out.
Yeah, Jasper.
Fucking bastard.
Jasper Whitehall had been Allen’s college roommate and his best friend. He’d been my rock through this whole ordeal. The first person I’d called after the skydiving ‘accident’ that had taken Allen’s life. The person who’d taken care of me when I’d wandered around outside without sunscreen and ended up giving myself heat stroke and had nearly burned my skin off. He’d been the one who’d come when Gregory and May Lockwood had hired someone to set part of my vineyard on fire. He’d stayed with me when I hadn’t wanted to stay alone.
And I’d slept with him last night.
It had been a stupid, stupid mistake. We’d gone out for celebratory drinks after a judge had a surprisingly ruled in my favor against my former in-laws regarding the vineyard. The court was still waiting to rule on Allen’s trust. I didn’t care about that though. His parents thought I did, but I’d never cared about the money. Despite Allen’s multi-million dollar trust-fund, I’d always worked. Teaching second grade didn’t pay much, but I loved it, and if I needed it to be enough, it would be.
Now, even without the trust-fund, I had more than enough thanks to the million dollar insurance policy. A policy I didn’t want and had already decided to donate to charity.
To Jasper. To fund the low-income health clinic he’d always wanted to start.
I’d decided to give it to him because he was a good doctor, because Allen had wanted to give him money from the frozen trust, and because I knew it would piss Gregory and May off.
But I mostly wanted to do it because he was a good man.
Or so I’d thought.
I’d been a bit drunk last night...well, okay, more than a bit, and he’d tried to stop me from coming on to him. And that was the truth. I’d kissed him first. I’d begged him to sleep with me. I’d wanted sex. I’d wanted him.
He’d been amazing, and not just in the sense of the quality and quantity of orgasms he’d provided. He’d told me to let go, had asked me to let him take care of me. And I’d been dumb enough to trust him.
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Tears burned in my eyes and I swiped at them. I’d trusted him and I’d trusted Allen.
And they’d both betrayed me.
I tossed the letter onto the nearby table. I didn’t want to read it again. I didn’t need to read it again. The words were indelibly imprinted on my brain. Allen had written me a letter before he died. A letter that had gotten lost in the mail.
A letter where he told me that he’d lied to me, that he’d betrayed everything we’d been about as his last act on earth. A letter where he’d confessed to having been diagnosed with a fatal disease. No cure and fast-acting. A disease he hadn’t wanted to tell me about because he hadn’t wanted me to deal with it.
So he’d killed himself.
He’d needed to make it look like an accident for the insurance to pay out, and he’d definitely done that. Until a few minutes ago, I’d thought that his parachute hadn’t opened and that had been why he died. While that was still technically true, I knew now that he’d done it on purpose. He’d killed himself quickly and with witnesses to ensure that no one would think it had been intentional.
And Jasper had helped him do it.
The tears spilled over then and the pain in my heart that had begun to fade as time passed came back. And it brought friends.
That’s what I’d thought Jasper was. A friend. At the very least, I’d thought he was that.
But he’d known.
He hadn’t helped Allen die in the sense of providing him the means to die, or setting it up so that his parachute didn’t open. He hadn’t killed Allen, but he’d known about the disease. He’d given Allen a clean bill of health so my husband could buy the secret insurance policy.
Hell, for all I knew, he’d told Allen the best way to kill himself to ensure that there was no way the medical examiner would be able to diagnose the disease. Free falling thousands of feet had done it.
I was going to throw up.