I loved this girl. She was chubby, everyday, not standing out in a crowd – but that wasn't really true, was it? I'd felt a surge of interest in her from the first moment that my eyes fell on her, and now I couldn't imagine looking at anyone else in a crowd. It would just be Paxton, and a few background actors fading into the haze behind her. She had so much strength, so much personality and confidence and sarcastic attitude hidden under that shy front she put up, she just seemed almost larger than life.
How could anyone not fall in love with her?
And she loved me too, she'd said. I'd been nervous about saying anything about that, fearing that maybe she'd shoot me down. I had nearly convinced myself that my feelings were one-sided, not reciprocated – until she'd spoken and made my heart light up like the Christmas tree in the middle of downtown.
I made it up to her apartment, breezing through the main area and into her bedroom. Her scent filled my nose, her taste filled my mouth as I kissed her and simultaneously bore her down onto the bed. It creaked in protest beneath the weight of both our bodies, but we paid it no heed.
"Wait," Paxton gasped out beneath me, even as my teeth nibbled at delectable and usually covered areas of her, even as my fingers peeled away her clothing like I was unwrapping my Christmas present. "Are you sure? Think about what you're giving up if you sleep with me..."
I cut her off with a kiss, deep and insistent. "I've made my choice," I told her, and in that instant, it clicked in my head that I truly had.
I'd made it before now, even. I made the decision back when I brought out my high school yearbook, when I decided to tell Paxton everything.
I could have had my powers for the rest of my life – but I wouldn't have Paxton.
And I couldn't imagine that future life without her in it, beside me. Without waking up beside her, falling asleep with her in my arms, making love to her, inviting her to live with me, bringing her coffee in the mornings and kissing her awake, delighting in her laughter as I played the fool, gave her everything she desired...
I'd chosen Paxton. My past had been sadness, revelation, a great turnaround – but now, I could start to look forward to my future.
And I wouldn't be spending it alone.
I drew her against me, sensed that she wanted to protest once again. Before she could get the words out, I had my hands on her bare skin, feeling the rush of heat flowing between our points of contact. I drew her onto my lap, kissed hungrily at her neck, peeled the remaining articles of clothing off her body.
She let out a little sound of wordless desire at the press of my lips against her neck. Her ass pushed down against me, as if she could feel my hardness even through the barrier of my jeans. It ached almost painfully, needing to touch her, to take her.
Her fingers dipped down between her thighs, pressing against me. I couldn't hold back my groan. "God, Paxton," I whispered to her, my voice husky with need to have her, to make love to her.
She turned and beamed at me for a second, before leaning in and kissing me, pushing her tongue into my mouth to meet my own. Her breasts, freed from her shirt, dangled down and begged my hands to take them. Her ass also begged for my attention, curled up and calling out for me to wrap both my hands around it and feel its curves, pull it in against me.
My jeans didn't melt off my body with a wish, but I got them off so quickly that it almost seemed like I'd put my magic to use. I pulled her down atop me, and she spread her thighs so that I rubbed against her entrance, felt her waiting wetness and readiness.
"I love you," she whispered in my ear, pressing the length of her body against me, her breasts warm on my chest. I felt the little prickle of her nipples, hard with desire, and I ached take them in my mouth, first one and then the other. If I had the patience, I could spend hours on her body, devoting my worship to every square inch.
I didn't have that patience. "I love you, Paxton," I replied, even as my hands found that deliciously round ass, pulled it down so that I slid inside her. "I love you."
I took her, moved inside her, fought back the rush of almost agonizing pleasure that flooded through me. I focused my attention on her, dropping one hand down so that my fingers could press in against the nub of her clit in counterpoint to how her hips writhed atop my spear. I watched her body for cues, trying to help her along, needing to see her lose control and hit that moment of maximal release.
She rose quickly towards an orgasm, but then bit it back, her body shaking on top of me. "I want to enjoy it as long as I can," she whispered in my ear, her lips nibbling gently against my earlobe.
I groaned. "You can't enjoy it forever! I'm only mortal, woman!"
She pulled back for a second, sticking out her lip in an exaggerated pout. "Aww, you going to finish early, just lose it and come already?" she asked, even as her eyes sparkled with merriment.
I gritted my teeth, picking up my own movements inside her. "Oh, I'm not finishing until after you, honey," I insisted, putting my fingers to renewed use.
Her eyes almost crossed at the new rush of sensation. She sagged backwards, but I moved up atop her. My broad chest rose over hers, my hips pumping and thrusting inside of me. I found my rhythm, and soon I started to see raggedness in her corresponding movements against me.
"Oh god, Alex," she moaned out, her eyes squeezed almost entirely shut to slits. "Oh god, keep fucking me, keep going. You're going to drive me crazy, you're going to make me come so hard!"
I'd never really gotten off to dirty talk before, but Paxton's words sent fire rushing down my spine. I loved it, loved her. I leaned forward and kept up my motions, moving so deep inside her accepting wetness, giving her long strokes that ended with my cock leaving her almost completely before re-entering and taking her anew.
And then, finally, she went over the edge of the waterfall.
She moaned, long and undulating, and I swear that her face went cross-eyed! I was only a few strokes behind her, and I aged on top of her, my hardness against her softness as I drowned in the best orgasm of my life. I moved a few last times inside of her, pulled her tightly against me, held her as we both sobbed and gave up the last vestiges of control.
"And there go your powers for a few more hours," Paxton finally murmured, still pressing in limply against me.
I pulled her around, leaning down to kiss at one nipple. It pebbled and puckered in my mouth, and I felt a new surge of desire, even though the flesh wasn't quite ready for round two just yet. "Good riddance," I said. "I love you."
She stroked fingers through my hair. "I love you, too, Alex," she whispered. "But I'm still going to feel guilty, I think. That you're giving up all that power for me."
I lifted my head up to meet her eyes, held them intently. "It's a trade in my favor," I said, simple honesty ringing in my voice. "You're worth it."
For a moment, her eyes narrowed, as if she wasn't sure whether to believe me. But I'd told her the truth, and I meant it now. I looked back at her, open, honest, not flinching away.
"You really do love me," she finally whispered, sounding strangely amazed.
I sighed. "Yeah, like I've been saying all this time!" I complained, flopping away from her, onto my back on the protesting bed. "Gosh, how many more times do I need to say it to get it through that thick, adorable head of yours!"
I felt her body tense for a second, but then relax. "Probably a few more times," she murmured, and now she sounded... pleased? She liked that she'd annoyed me? "Go on, say it again." Her fingers landed gently on my knee.
"I love you, you foolish girl."
"Good." Her fingers crept upward, soft and warm and tantalizing. "Say it again."
I fought the smile off my face. "I love you, Paxton. Even though you drive me crazy, practically all the time."
Her fingers slid further up, up to my inner thighs, dangerously close. Even though it had just been a few minutes, I felt a stiffening in my muscles down there. "Again."
"I love you, and I'm choosing to give up my powers for you." A devious lit
tle impulse made me raise my head to look over at her. "Besides, they came back after the last time we slept together. All I need to do is take a bachelor weekend away, and I'm sure I'll have them back again."
She narrowed her eyes at me, but didn't withdraw her fingers. They kept on moving up, until they wrapped around a still-sensitive, still-tender part of my anatomy, cutting off my words. "Don't think about it. You're not getting away from me any time soon."
I looked down at her luscious body, wondered why anyone would ever want to get away from her. "I guess I'll just have to accept that fact."
"Excellent." And then once again, she rolled atop me, let my delighted hands explore every curve of her body as she made love to me, soft and gentle and teasing and filled with a tenderness that I couldn't stop needing.
Eventually, she pulled herself away, insisting that she still had to have the bookstore open at least for a little time that afternoon. I made her promise to come back up as soon as it closed, and spent the afternoon dozing in her bed, dreaming of her.
She kissed me awake, and I dragged her down into the tangled covers to make love to her a third time before dinner. We spent the entire meal discussing thoughts of the future. We didn't set any permanent plans, but talked of possibilities. Paxton didn't want to move away from her uncle, from the bookstore, even despite my bank accounts, and I didn't have any argument against that. Somehow, the idea of Paxton without her job at the bookstore seemed... incomplete, in a way.
"You'll need to meet Tommy," I said, tracing one finger around the swell of a breast as she lay atop me.
Her hand moved in similar little motions across the tensed six-pack of my abs. "And you'll need to come out and meet Anna-Claire. Don't let her intimidate you, even though she's terribly organized and put together."
I smiled. "Maybe Tommy and Anna-Claire will hit it off with each other."
"Double date?"
"Why not?" I said, and she laughed. "As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."
She sighed, her muscles loosening as she lay against me. She fit there, almost as if she'd been made for me. "I love you," she said again, almost too softly for me to hear.
I sat up just enough to plant a feather-light kiss on her lips. "And I love you," I replied, looking down at her.
It was amazing, really. If I could have known, that first night that I drunkenly spotted her in the club, what would come of all this... would I still have gone through with it all?
Paxton closed her eyes, squirmed in against me, burrowing against my warmth on the bed. I drew the sheets up over us both, ran my fingers down over her spine. Even now, I marveled at the softness of her skin. How could she do that, feel better than any other woman I'd ever known?
Yes. I definitely would have done it all again.
Unfortunately for you, dear reader, that's about all that I'm willing to share with you. I can certainly tell you that Paxton and I have quite a lot more together in our futures, and those futures are very definitely intertwined, but you don't really want to hear about that, do you? You just wanted to get to the happy ending, and here we are.
I mean, it's not the ultimate ending for me. I've still got quite a long life ahead of me, and I'm intending on spending as much of it as possible with a naked and delighted Paxton in my arms. But you don't get to hear about the next eighty years.
In fact, I think I'm going to end the book right about here. It's a nice spot, and you've found out a bunch about me. I really did warn you, my past isn't pretty. Sorry you had to experience that pain with me – but hey, it made me into who I am now.
I'm not that bad of a guy, right? Way less of an asshole than you probably thought when you started on Chapter 1, a good sixty thousand words earlier. Feels like forever, like that was an entirely different person than who I am now.
So that's all for you, dear reader. I'm yawning, and this old and creaking bed in a little apartment feels more comforting and loving than I've ever felt in my big penthouse apartment. I've got the love of my life in my arms, and when I close my eyes, I can see our entire future together stretching out like a long and winding country road in front of me.
I hope you've enjoyed the tale. Thanks for listening.
Now, get out of here. It's creepy to think of you hovering over the bed and watching me sleep.
That's all, folks!
Alex here. I told you that it would be a good story, didn't I? A few twists and turns, a few sexy chapters, and, as much as I hate to admit it, I even had to endure some personal growth.
So thanks for coming along on the ride. Now, if you'll excuse me, Paxton is calling me back to the bedroom...
The End!
Still want a little more of Alex and Paxton?
There are a few chapters that didn't make it into this book! Specifically, I ended up cutting out a chapter where Alex invites Paxton out for his best friend Tommy's birthday.
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A Billion Little Clues
Melinda Gaines, overworked personal assistant, is cursed with permanently bad luck. Her boss keeps making unreasonable demands, and no guy has seen the inside of her apartment in months.
But when Melinda is sent to a party at the CEO's house, she ends up on a romantic, moonlit balcony with an unnervingly handsome stranger. Melinda is convinced that her run of bad luck is over.
That is, until she finds that her latest crush is being accused of murder...
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If you enjoyed this story, check out other works by Samantha Westlake:
For Love of Valor - A Military Bad Boy Romance
"She promised that she'd help me - but no one could silence those voices that haunted my dreams at night..."
Richard
My family might be worth billions, but we've always been proud to serve our country in the military, in every generation. I put in my four tours of duty - but they left me with shrapnel in my leg and voices that attack and torment me every night.
All I want is for these ghosts in my head to leave me alone. Pills help; booze helps more. I'm broken, and I can't be fixed.
Especially not by some young, hot-shot female psychiatrist who seems to get off on pestering me with questions.
Linda
Beneath my veneer of professional composure, I'm a nervous wreck. I'm basically broke, and I can't afford to lose a single patient. Richard Stone might be a rude, arrogant ass, but I just can't turn him away.
He might be tall and very easy on the eyes, but he's got a hard core that he won't let me touch. I know he's broken, and he needs my help.
But as I work to connect with this handsome, haunted soldier, I find him slipping into my thoughts more and more. I can't stop picturing the two of us together, breaking every taboo as we make love...
A Foolproof Marriage
"She needed a husband. He needed cash. Their plan was foolproof."
Jillian Claymont knows exactly what she needs - a husband. A husband would impress the Vice Presidents at her company, open the door to a big promotion, and give her the success she craves. A husband would also finally satisfy her needy single mother,
who keeps pestering Jillian to find a man. A husband could even take care of all the errands she never manages to check off her to-do list.
Only one problem - Jillian has zero dating prospects, and she doesn't know a single man she'd consider "husband material." So Jillian does what any sensible, high-powered businesswoman would do in her situation. She has a couple glasses of wine and turns to the internet...
The Stolen Girl: A Wild Roads MC Novel
"Hello, little kitty," the big biker leered at me as I shrank back in fear. His black glove reached out for me. "You're coming with me!"
When Senator Leonard Sterling comes home from the day's Congressional session, he finds his daughter missing from their family home, her bedroom window shattered, and a spatter of blood on the pieces of glass...
When Elizabeth Sterling wakes up, she discovers that she's in a cheap motel room. Her hands are shackled behind her, attached to a radiator, and she can hear the thudding of heavy boots outside the motel room door...
When Roads, the motorcycle gang's second-in-command, enters the room, he finds that the young woman, forced into a kneeling position on the motel carpet, is glaring up at him. Her beautiful face is filled with fierce defiance as she stares back without a shred of subservience...
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Samantha Westlake has an unfortunate habit of staying up far too late, reading romance and saucy stories when she really should be sleeping and preparing for work. Samantha currently lives in San Francisco, CA. She draws her inspiration from the wonderful people of the city around her, and can often be found relaxing on the wharf, gazing out in the mornings as the fog burns off the bay.
The Sure Thing Page 19