Eight Days (Love Always #1.5)

by D. Nichole King

  I huff and down the first one. “You could say that.”

  Her bare thigh is so close to me. I can’t wait to feel it up later.

  “Bring me two more, if you would,” I say.

  She bites her lip. “Um, I don’t know. Max…”

  “Just bring me the fucking shots. Max and I have an agreement.”

  Cameron glances over her shoulder at the bartender. Getting the confirmation from Max, she swings around.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  I lean back, rubbing a finger over my lips, the alcohol finally kicking in.

  “You have a whole life in front of you. Don’t waste it. Don’t dwell on the past.”

  Cameron saunters over with a tray of my last two shots of the night. I stare at her thighs, already imagining what they taste like. I’m moving on, baby. Just like you told me to.

  “Thanks,” I say as she sets them down. “When are you off?”

  She hesitates. “Um, like, now. My boyfriend is picking me up.”

  Well, shit.

  I down the last two and go up to pay my tab. My buzz was decent, but not enough. It’s never enough anymore.

  “Thanks, Max.”

  “See ya, man.”

  Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I take my time walking across the parking lot to Dylan’s motorcycle. I pull out the keys and rev the engine. Her face isn’t gone, but it’s barely recognizable now. Just how I need it.

  Slowly, I back out and notice Cameron standing against the side of the bar, hugging her arms from the chill.

  Stood up. Sweet.

  I pull up next to her. “Need a lift?”

  “Uh, no. Toby should be here any minute.”

  Toby Stanton? Cameron might be an even better lay than I imagined.

  “Toby should have been here by now.” I reach my hand to her. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

  She bites her lip again, and I hope to know what that feels like in about ten minutes.

  Cameron sighs and takes my hand. “I live on campus—Frederiksen Court.”

  I help her up behind me, her arms slipping around my waist. Smirking, I say, “Hang on.”

  We peel out into traffic, the wind slamming against my face. Cameron nestles her head into my back and holds me tighter. She says something, but I can’t hear her.

  On the way back to mine and Dylan’s apartment—off-campus—I take a shortcut. By now, I just need to get Cameron naked. Fuck everything else.

  I park beside my BMW and shut off the engine.

  “I said Frederiksen Court,” Cameron says, confused.

  I climb off and get back on, facing her. “I said I’d take you home. This is where I live.”

  “Toby—”

  “—is off fucking someone else and forgot about you.” My hands find her knees and begin sliding up her thighs. They feel as good as they look.

  She frowns, but doesn’t say anything. I’m right, and she knows it.

  Taking in every inch of her skin, I run my fingers up her inner thighs as what I said sinks in. To let it go deeper, I kiss her neck, sucking on the flesh. She’ll cave. They always do.

  “He’s probably working out late at the gym,” she says, trying to convince herself.

  “Yeah, probably not.” I switch sides, and she tilts her head, letting me continue. Down below, I move her panties to the side to massage her. She stiffens a little, gasping.

  “Toby…he’s a…a National Champion boxer. He—uh—” She pauses, her breaths become shallow, just how I like it.

  Yep. Toby Stanton. This is gonna be good.

  She swallows. “He works out a lot.”

  I grunt. “I bet he does.”

  I know he does.

  She nods. “He does.”

  Her hips start to move against my fingers, and I crush my lips into hers. I’m not surprised that she returns the kiss with fervor. Toby only gets the feisty ones.

  My fingers start slipping on her, and I can’t take it anymore. I’ve got to get my mouth on that.

  When I let go, a disappointed gasp escapes her. I help her off the bike and lead her inside to my room. Thankfully, Dylan is already in bed. He hates when I bring girls home.

  My shirt’s over my head before I have the door closed behind me. Kicking it, it slams closed. I don’t take the time to lock it.

  Cameron fumbles with my belt; Fuck that shit. I pull her close, slide my hands under the waistband of her skirt, feeling every inch of the smooth skin. Walking her backwards to my bed, I lean into her until she sits and I can finish the job, tossing the black wad and her panties across the room.

  With her sitting there, I undo my belt and jeans, stepping out of them. Toby is clearly out of her thoughts now. She moans in excitement. Now to get the rest of her goddamn clothes off.

  Gliding my palms up her thighs, I take a short detour between them.

  “Oh, yes!” she cries out as I slip inside of her. I finger her until she’s on the verge of coming.

  Pulling out, I chuckle, knowing it’s about to get a whole lot better real quick. She frowns, giving me puppy-dog eyes.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be back,” I whisper in her ear.

  She throws her head back with a smile on her face.

  I grab the bottom of her shirt and begin to lift it, but it won’t move past her chest. She’d pinned her nametag to her bra.

  “Oh, Cameron,” I groan. I hate that I have to take the extra time to undo the damn thing.

  “Sorry,” she says, panting. Music to my ears. “Here, let me get it.” She turns the top of her shirt inside out, unhooking the pin. “There. Oh, and this is my friend’s nametag. I forgot mine. My name is Katey.”

  Someone just punched me in the stomach.

  ‘Don’t leave me, Katie. I’m gonna fuck up, but don’t leave me.’

  “Get. The fuck. Out,” I breathe.

  Her brows furrow. “Excuse me?”

  “Get the fuck. Out of here.” I gather up her clothes and shove them in her chest, knocking her backwards a little. “Now.”

  The pathetic look on her face doesn’t faze me. She means absolutely nothing to me.

  I throw the door open and don’t look at her as she shuffles out undressed from the waist down. I don’t give a shit.

  “How am I supposed to get home?”

  “I don’t give a damn,” I say and slam the door in her face.

  A stunned second later, she screams, “You’re a fucking asshole!” from the other side.

  I collapse on the bed, my face buried in the blankets.

  Yeah, Kate, I know. I know.

  Acknowledgements

  This novella tested me. Written all in Damian’s point of view, I had to dig deep. Being inside his head isn’t the greatest place to be. But I think Damian is all of us. In some way, we’re all broken, and we’re all searching for that miracle that will put us back together. We’re all looking for peace.

  I could write a whole novella of thank-you's and still, I wouldn’t scratch the surface of my gratitude.

  First, foremost, and always, I thank God, my Lord and Savior. Without Him, none of this would be possible.

  Secondly, my family. My awesome husband who reads through all of my books and gives me his valuable insight, especially on the male psyche. My kids who have to put up with my scatterbrainedness and oftentimes late (or burnt) dinners. I love all of you so, so much.

  To my extended family who have been incredibly supportive. I’m lucky to have you in my life.

  Thank you to my CPs. Geez. I can’t even tell you how thankful I am for you. Sunniva Dee and Laura Thalassa, I love your axes. I’m sure they’re dipped in pure gold, and if they aren’t, they should be. From line-by-line edits, to social media support, to work dates, to late night chats about Disney princes and princesses—oh, and let’s not forget about Mr. Frumps!—I appreciate everything. <3

  For my beta readers: Tonille Burrows, Temperance Elisabeth, Kim Jackson, and Heather Jelsma. Your input is greatly valued
. From the depths of my heart, thank you!

  To my street team. Thanks for being there for me. Thanks for loving my books. Thanks for your opinions. Thanks for promoting my books. Thanks for the amazing teasers. Thanks for a whole list of stuff that’s too long to mention here. Just, thanks!

  A huge shout out to the bloggers and reviewers who have supported me and this series. I’m too scared to name you all because I’ll probably leave someone out, but you know who you are. You’ve helped get my name out there, loved my books, and welcomed me into the writing community with open arms. You deserve so much more than a simple “thank you.” Really, you do.

  Toni Rakesaw, my editor, you have been a joy to work with. You mention things that never crossed my mind, and you catch my embarrassing counting errors. One shot, two shots, three shots… Seriously, thank you!

  Eden Crane Designs. Another beautiful, beautiful cover. I can’t wait to see what you come up with next!

  Eternal thanks to Limitless Publishing! Jennifer O’Neill, Jessica Gunhamer, Dixie Matthews, thank you!! Thank you!! Thank you!! It’s been a pleasure.

  And finally, to the readers. This book, especially, was spawned because of you, your comments, your emails, your reviews. When I wrote Love Always, Kate this novella wasn’t even a blip on my radar. You wanted it, so I wrote it, and I hope you love it. This book is for you.

  Love Always, d.

  About the Author

  Born and raised in Iowa, d. Nichole King writes her stories close to home. There’s nothing like small-town Midwest scenery to create the perfect backdrop for an amazing tale.

  She wrote her first book in junior high and loved every second of it. However, she couldn’t bring herself to share her passion with anyone. She packed it away until one day, with the encouragement of her husband, she sat down at the computer and began to type. Now, she can’t stop.

  When not writing, d. is usually curled up with a book, scrapbooking, or doing yet another load of laundry.

  Along with her incredible husband, she lives in small-town Iowa with her four adorable children and their dog, Peaches.

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