"Heilige Scheiße", Rush stöhnte, kollabierende neben ihr auf dem Sofa, wo Sie blieb an Ort und Stelle, zu müde und Wunde zu bewegen. Sehen ihre prekäre Situation, er schlang seine Arme um sie und zog sie nach unten, so dass sie lag auf dem Rücken, den Kopf in seinen Schoß.
"Frohe Weihnachten", murmelte sie, die Augen geschlossen, Körper vibriert mit Glückseligkeit. Er lachte, lehnte den Kopf zurück gegen den Tisch.
"Merry fuckin' Christmas", er stimmte.
Bevor Sie selbst wusste es, sie schliefen.
***
Als Ricky aufgewacht, es war gerade nach 3 Uhr. Ihr erstes Gefühl kalt war. Sie war immer noch nackt, und Rush war da nicht zu warm ihr mit seinem Körper Wärme. Zittern, sie selbst wiedergutmachen. Dann, ein Gefühl des klebrige Substanz zwischen ihre Schenkel, lächelte sie. Vage, überlegte sie, ob jemand geweckt hatte noch zu sehen kaputtes Schloss, die nackten Baum, oder sehen, dass Sie es nicht in Ihrem Zimmer. In einem fernen Zimmer, hörte sie eine Toilette spülen.
Rush eingetragen und kratzt sich am Kopf. Sah, dass sie war, er hielt einen langen Moment, ihre Augen zusammen verriegelt werden. Als er wieder nach vorne, er schleppte den Sack von gestohlenen Geschenke in Richtung auf die Couch und setzte sich stark.
"I'm gonna take you Home bald", sagte er. "Aber Wir Gotta eine zuerst stoppen. Und du musst mir helfen mit diesen".
Er drückte ein hell Box verpackt in Ihrer Hand. Sie blickte auf den Tag; dies war einer von Trevor's Geschenke. Rush beäugte neugierig, sie fragte sich, ob er tatsächlich gehen, um Ihr noch mehr Komplizen in raubt Ihrer Familie ist Weihnachten.
"Nehmen Sie nur die Tags aus", sagte er, wobei ein Geschenk aus der Tasche zeigte ihr, was er gemeint hat, die Rippen aus dem "An/Aus"-Tag.
"Was Sie tun mit all diesen", fragte sie. "Sie wollen mich zu packen Sie sie auch?"
"Nein", sagte Rush, das Gleiche tun zu einem anderen Geschenk. "Sie werden sehen, was wir tun mit "em".
Shrugging, Ricky zu arbeiten begonnen haben. Sprechen Sie nicht, aber es war nicht unangenehm. Es hätte, hatte entweder von Ihnen kümmerte, was die anderen denken, aber sie waren ein perfektes Paar in dieser Hinsicht, beide haben bekommen, was sie wollten, von der Nacht und Inhalte, es dabei zu belassen. Mit beiden Händen arbeiten an der großen Tasche, die Arbeit erledigt war in 15 Minuten. Die Geschenke wurden zurückgeworfen, und Rush stieg auf seine Füße.
"Get gekleidet und treffen Sie mich an das Auto," sagte er, und Ricky nickte, Zittern, da die kalte Luft blies, wenn er durch die Türe. Ziehen an ihr Höschen und Leggings, verwöhnt Sie in einer geheimen Lächeln über die Tatsache, dass diese Höschen würde bald belegen ihre deflowering. Einmal wurde sie als gekleidet, wie Sie jemals sein, sie rutschte aus, Schließen der Tür mit einem Klick hinter ihr.
Sie sah Rush's Bike parkten in der Einfahrt von der Schrotflinte, sein Auto läuft vor und ging in Richtung it, wickeln ihre Hände um sich für Wärme.
"Alle bereit?" fragte Rush, aber nicht auf eine Antwort warten vor dem Peeling entfernt.
"Was wirst du sagen, wenn Sie, wenn ich sie?" fragte er. "Wissen Sie, ich bin ablegen Sie einen Block entfernt."
"Natürlich", sagte sie. "Und… ich weiß nicht, werde ich sagen, ich war Schlafwandeln. Ich zu tun haben, als ein Kind, das weißt du."
"bequem", sagte Rush, und Ricky lachte. Sie war. Sie fuhren vorbei an der Bar, wo sie erfüllt würde; es hatte noch die Lichter auf, Fahrräder vor der Tür. Ricky ausgegangen war, wo seine Club war verbringen Heiligabend, gehen durch ihre Hol.
Die Stadt gehetzt Vergangenheit, alle stillen und Heiligen in der früh dunkel. Eine große, gut beleuchtete Gebäude drohte am Ende des Bausteins; Ricky hatte nie aufgefallen, dass es vor, aber Rush war ziehen das Auto zu stoppen, wie sie vorgegangen ist.
"Was ist das?" fragte sie, recken ihren Hals zu versuchen und zu sehen. Das Gebäude kündigte sich leicht genug:
Crestwell Home für Kinder.
"Ein Waisenhaus?" Ich sagte, schockiert, dass solche Dinge noch existierten in der Moderne. Blick auf den RUSH, nickte er. Er zog das Auto an den Bordstein gehalten aber es läuft.
"Hier warten", sagte er, und Aussteigen aus dem Fahrzeug lief er herum zurück, das Öffnen des Kofferraums. Sie beobachtete, wie er brachte die große Tüte stibitzt Geschenke durch die erste Reihe der doppelten Türen; der zweite Satz muss gesperrt wurden, weil er links der Tasche befindet, dann seine Finger wiederholt gegen einige Taste oder Bell, dass sie nicht sehen konnte. Schneller als Ihr Geist könnte sogar Prozess, er war neben ihr wieder, Peeling entfernt in der Nacht.
"Du bist nicht ernst", sagte sie, sprachlos. Er schoss ihr ein Blick zur Seite.
"Was?"
"Sie ernsthaft gab nur alle das Zeug zu einem Waisenhaus? Was ist das, eine Dicken Roman?"
"Was? Würden Sie es vorziehen, zu bleiben mit ihrem Bruder, oder einen der anderen Rich Kids, die schon bis an die Ohren in Austausch gaben bis morgen Abend?"
Sie schüttelte den Kopf, nein, aber immer noch nicht ziehen Sie Ihre Augen von Rush's Profil wie er fährt, oder sich über die Tatsache, dass er eine Art der real-life Robin Hood. Lachend wandte sich schließlich entfernt, ein warmes Gefühl verbreitet sich durch ihr. Er schoss ihr ein Look.
"Nein", Ricky sagte, "Ich bin nicht darüber lachen können. Ich habe gerade…Wow, das ist, wie es ist cool".
Aus der Ecke der Augen, sah, wie der Hauch eines Lächeln an der Ecke von seinem Munde.
Getreu seinem Wort, Rush gezogen das Auto in rund um den Block von Ricky's House.
"Wissen Sie", sagte sie. "Vielleicht sollte ich das so tun wie ich war, und sah die Räuber, so dass Sie wissen, ich kann die Bullen oder was auch immer auf einem Wild Goose Chase. Sie wissen, sagen, dass es drei Asiatische Kerle in einem Subaru."
Rush gab ihr einen ernsten Blick.
"Nicht Witz über diese Scheiße jetzt", sagte er. "Wenn jemand noch Frage sie…"
"Ich war kein Scherz", sagte sie, blinkende ihm einen Blick auf ihre eigenen. "Ich könnte sagen, dass es jemand wollte ich - wer nicht fit Ihr Profil an alle."
Er schien dies in Betracht zu ziehen.
"Es ist keine schlechte Idee", sagte er. "Aber ich hasse es, zu denken, der einige schlechte jackasses getting Fingered für das, was wir haben."
"Aber ich konnte nur schießen Sie jemand brachten sie in ein Line-up," sie neutralisiert werden. Er sah sie an und schien zu schätzen, was sie sagte.
"Was Sie denken, am besten ist", sagte er schliesslich, und sie fühlte eine Art warm Hochmut zu denken, er tatsächlich vertraute ihr.
"Wissen Sie", sagte Ricky wieder, im gleichen Ton, eine Hand auf das Auto der Griff. "Ich bin auf dem Heimweg von der Schule für fast einen Monat."
An, dass er schließlich lachte, das erste Mal, er hatte die ganze Nacht.
"Gott Schlag mich tot, aber ich Fuckin' die Hoffnung sie mich anrufen, sie Psycho", sagte er, schüttelt den Kopf, ein Lächeln auf seinem Gesicht. "einfach nicht mehr Spielen entführt, in Ordnung?"
"Nicht noch ein wenig zu spielen?" fragte sie mit einem Stintdorsch, zu versuchen, einen Anstieg aus ihm heraus. Von dem Weg, seine Augen löste, sah sie sie haben.
"Get the fuck outta Hier", sagte er, und sie gehorchen, Jogging durch die Rege Nacht. Auf ihre Dankbarkeit, gab es keine Polizei Autos am Haus, keine Beleuchtung, keine Anzeichen von Leben überhaupt. Lassen Sie sich durch die Tür kaputt, nahm sie einen Moment zu gehen in die Wohnzimmer. Der Baum noch sehr schön; es sah noch schöner ohne alle verdammt präsentiert unter.
Sie erwärmt mich, hilft Ihrem Körper wieder ihre Core Temperatur durch die Erinnerung an den Weg Rush hatte, Schreien und Buck in die Freude. Und dann, mit ihrer Geschichte direkt in Ihren Verstand und Ihre Lungen voller Luft, Sie balled ihre Hände in die Fäuste und schrie so laut Sie konnte.
Das Ende
An Excuse
Contemporary Billionaire Romance
Clare Wilkins stared out her cabin window at the fierce autumn squall blowing in from the ocean. It was a terrible night to be out on the water, and she was glad she was safely inside tonight. Not
the night to be taking a swim, that was for certain. Regretfully, she brushed her hand over the deep brown silk skin and carefully put it back into the sea chest by her bed. No human with half a brain would go swimming in the rolling ocean waters or battle the ruthless Alaskan wind tonight, unless they absolutely had too. With the storm, her television reception would be spotty as well. There wasn’t much else to do in her little cabin on Adak Island.
Why am I up here again?, she complained to herself. After breaking up with her boyfriend, Tom, because she was “sick of his cheating habit”, she thought an escape to the wilderness would make for a nice change. When Auntie Vivienne volunteered her small cabin, near a harbor seal colony, Clare jumped at the chance. She’d had a great summer, swimming with the local harbor visitors, communing with nature, getting back to her roots. Now it was September, and the mating cries of the local dolphins made her want to walk into town and throw herself at the first good looking man she could find. She was going stir crazy in the small cabin.
A light from the direction of the beach caught her eye. Peering back out the window, she saw a local fishing boat trying to escape the worst of the storm by heading to the leeward side of the island. She wished them luck. It was a smart strategy, but the rocks on this part of the shore were particularly brutal, and had sunk vessels making the attempt before. Checking on the position of the ship again, she saw they were getting blown dangerously close to shore. She decided she had better warn them not to stray any closer.
Flicking on her aunt’s VHF radio, she tuned in channel 16, the radio channel used for emergency communications and warnings to vessels. As soon as she flicked the radio on, a man’s voice, sounding panicked came through the receiver. “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. This is the fishing vessel Undine. We are on the western shore of Adak Island. We have lost our main engine and are taking on water. Three crewman aboard, the captain is injured.” The fisherman began to repeat his distress call. The coastguard answered, indicating they were responding, but would not arrive for at least 45 minutes.
“That’s too late!” she cried. The sound of her own voice echoed in the empty cabin and oddly, almost startled her. That boat was headed towards the rocks fast, if they were taking on water now, they’d be sunk in minutes. Stripping off her clothes, she ran to her bedroom, throwing open the sea chest. Snatching her swimming costume, and then ran outside, barely feeling the pouring rain as she dashed towards the beach. As her toes hit the water, she pulled on her fins and goggles and dived into the water. As she swam towards the distressed boat, she could hear the sickening crunch of steel hitting stone. Wincing, she picked up speed. She wasn’t sure what she could do to help, but there had to be something.
When she arrived at the ship, she saw to her dismay that the ship was sinking fast. A yellow life raft was floating in the water, two people obviously aboard. She swam closer, and could hear an older man, holding a broken arm calling desperately towards the boat. “Charlie! Charlie!”. The other man was holding the injured man back, as he looked likely to throw himself into the water to try to climb back aboard. Clearly there was someone still aboard the sinking ship, but Clare could see no sign of him. Trying to communicate with the fisherman was pointless- they wouldn’t understand her because of the storm.
She dove deep under water, and saw a hole in the ship’s hull that she could squeeze through. Slipping into the ship she swam through the rising waters, searching for the missing crewman. Finally, she saw a bright orange clad shoulder lying in a doorway. From what she could tell, the man had managed to put on his floating survival suit, but had hit his head when the ship had run aground on the rocks. She could hear the man groaning, but clearly, he wasn’t conscious enough to move. Grabbing the man’s coat by the neck, she began to drag him down the hall and out the door to the deck. She could see the water rising all around them. She needed to get the man off the boat and away before the ship sank and drew them both under with it.
She continued pulling on the man until she had both of them in the water. She began looking around for the yellow life raft. If she could get him to it, then his companions could pull him aboard. When she saw the raft however, she instantly realized it was too far away. The current had already swept the little raft several hundred feet away towards the leeward side of the island. She needed to get the injured man out of the water as quickly as possible. Instead of attempting to catch up with the raft, she swam back the way she had come, headed towards her beach. She could get him warm and dry in her cabin, and let the coast guard med-evac him out when they got here. As she swam away, back towards the beach, she could just see the raft come ashore on the island’s south side.
She managed to haul the injured man with her back to the beach. The time in the water had been hard on him- although his suit had kept him buoyant. The cool autumn water temperatures were pushing him close to hypothermia. Stripping off her swimming costume, she dragged the man back towards the waiting warmth of her home. Once he was inside she pulled off his suit and wet clothes, then grabbed every blanket she could find. Piling them on him she checked his temperature. He was still cool and shivering. There was only one thing to do. Still nude, she slipped under the blankets, and held the shivering man to her, allowing her own body heat to warm him.
Now that she had managed to pull the man out of the worst danger, she could finally take the time to see whom her naked body was pressed up against. The sailor was a younger man, perhaps late thirties. His occupation had left him well musculated, and his face… she sighed. Here was a man she wouldn’t mind losing her skin to. Gently she pushed his wet hair out of his face, and looked into a gorgeous set of blue eyes.
“Are you with me…” what had the older man called him, “Charlie? Do you understand me?” The man slowly nodded, as his eyes focused on her face. “Ok, good, how many fingers am I holding up?” she held two fingers up in front of the young man’s face. “Tuhhh…uhh…. two?” The man stuttered, still shivering. She smiled encouragingly, and then pressed against him closer as she used her hands to rub his arms briskly, trying to get his circulation going. “Can you tell me your name?” She asked him. “Charlie Mackenzie” the man told her, sounding a bit more cognizant. “Good Charlie. I’m Clare, do you understand?” Charlie nodded, and then murmured her name back to her “Clare…” After a few minutes his shivering began to stop, and Clare felt Charlie’s arms circle around her. “You feel so good, warm.” His embrace tightened, as he buried his face into Clare’s warm neck. “You smell good too.”
Clare blushed. “You think I smell good, not like fish, or something?” Charlie murmured a negative, and then to her surprise he began nibbling the base of her neck. When she shifted a bit to evade him, he pulled her close again. She could feel his body warming, and becoming obviously aroused.
“Do you think you can grant me the chance?” she smiled and started walking away. He pulled her to his chest. She sensed his gaze. Lingering, burning her. Those eyes reached her to fill her emptiness. She's never felt like this before.
“I have to go.” she trembled.
“Not until you give me an answer.”
“My goodness” her voice hit him hard on his gut, something primal pounded through him. An urge to grab her by the back of her head and kiss her with such force she would run. He looked down to her and was drowning in those round beautiful eyes.
“Say something,”
“I don't know what to say,” she said in a bedchamber tone.
He exhaled her name, and cupped her face. The sensation was pure and the texture of her skin was soft. She closed her eyes and lifted her head, she was not sure he moved still, she felt his mouth under hers. She mourned as she opened her mouth, all wet, hot and sweet against her tongue.
He moved his hands against her body, pulling her more closely. Her taste was extremely toxic. He worked her mouth without mercy. She returned his caresses measure by measure until they were forced to stop.
“Ok, enough body heat for you, I think.” she said flus
hing as she wiggled out of the blankets. “I think you will be ok. Don’t move out of those blankets, I need to go get something.” She went back outside to collect her now soaked clothing, and more importantly, her panty. Luckily, everything was where she had left it.
Clare went back into the cabin, carrying her sopping clothes in her hands. As she entered, she saw Charlie, the blankets wrapped around him, watching her carefully. When his eyes landed on the brown panty, she hastily mixed it in with her clothing and sprinted to her bedroom to put on some dry clothes. Coming back out clothed, she watched the man warily. “How are you feeling? Any better?” Charlie nodded at her, and continued watching her as she moved across the living room to the kitchen He noticed how reserved she was with her personal belongings.
“I’m going to make you something hot to drink, alright? Your friends are on the south side of the island. They looked like they were going to be ok. The coast guard should be here soon… Oh drat the coastguard.”
She ran back to the vhf radio and alerted the coast guard to what had happened. The emergency helicopter pilot confirmed their location, and told Clare their eta would be under fifteen minutes. They would pick up the stranded pair first, and then head over to her home to get Charlie. Clare got off the radio and headed back into the kitchen where her tea kettle whistled. Pouring the hot water into a mug, she mixed together some instant cocoa for Charlie.
“Here, this should help keep you warm.” She said, handing him the mug.
“You saved me, didn’t you? You pulled me from the boat.” she nodded suddenly feeling shy.
“Thank you. I owe you my life. Your name is Clare, right?” “You’re welcome, and yes, I’m Clare Wilkins”, she shook the handsome man’s hand. The golden glint of a cross around his neck caught her attention. “Oh- that’s pretty.” “Thank you. My grandma gave it to me.” Charlie said, touching the cross. He looked at her speculatively, until discomfited, she backed away.
ROMANCE: BAD BOY ROMANCE: Bad Boy Brother (Stepbrother Interracial College Romance) (Contemporary Stepsister Taboo Romance) Page 197