by Tia Louise
“I’ve loved you since the day you told me to trust you.” Her voice is thick with desire.
“I’ve loved you since the day you laughed.” I pull the back of her hair to tip her chin higher.
Our mouths unite again, and we’re lost in a wave of pleasure and union, husband and wife, deeply in love.
Her thighs tighten and she begins to ride my hand, sucking my tongue and whimpering as she chases her release.
Her eyes are closed, her head tilts back as she moans and begs. I lean forward and pull the skin of her neck between my teeth, sucking and kissing her as she vibrates with need.
She’s so gorgeous coming for me. I rotate my hand so I can plunge two fingers deep inside, curling them as I rub her clit with my thumb until her mouth breaks away with a cry. She pulls straight up and moans, but I don’t stop until she begs.
Catching her under the ass again, she collapses on my chest, her cheek on my shoulder as I hold her.
Pressing my lips to her ear, I whisper in a teasing voice. “My favorite erogenous zone.”
She starts to giggle, pressing the button for the jets. The water fizzes into a swirling spa, and she turns in my arms to face me, slippery as a bar of soap.
“You are very sexy,” she says, wrinkling her nose and putting her hands on my cheeks.
“Right back atcha, gorgeous.”
She pulls me closer, her mouth covers mine, and we kiss slowly, tangling our tongues and pulling with our lips. It’s lush and consuming and perfect… Then a baby squeal cuts through our moment.
Lara pulls back, eyes wide. “I’m going to get her.”
She stands, and I run my hand down her leg, watching as she disappears down the short hall completely naked. Just as fast, she’s back carrying our daughter, and I grab a washcloth, pushing it down into the water over my junk.
“Is it okay for her to be in here with me naked?”
“She’s just a baby, Mark.” Lara takes off Jilly’s diaper and drops it in the twisty diaper pail.
Then my naked wife and naked baby are both in the tub with me. Lara turns to lean against my chest, and Jilly is on her stomach smiling up at me and slapping the water. We both spit and laugh.
“No, Jilly,” Lara says softly. “Don’t splash Mommy and Daddy.”
That only makes her squeal and slap the water more.
“Here.” I pass her a rubber duck, and she puts it in her little mouth.
“I think she’s teething,” Lara says, watching her chew on the duck’s beak.
So much love blooms in my chest as I hold Lara against me and she holds my daughter in her arms, I almost can’t believe it.
I watch my wife smooth baby wash over my daughter’s soft skin in her hair, relishing the feel of her body against mine. I reach up and wipe a blob of foam off Jillian’s eyebrow.
“She’s so comfortable here. Like this is how her life has always been,” I say, watching them.
“She doesn’t remember it any other way.”
I think of a life always surrounded by love. It’s something I never had. I know it’s something Lara never had.
“I don’t want her to know anything else.”
Lara leans back to kiss me. “Then she won’t.”
It’s a promise. I made it to her mother years ago, and I made it legal today. I make it to my daughter as well. As long as we’re together, as long as I’m living, this will be her life. It will be our life.
We survived the darkness.
Now we’re standing in the sun.
THE END.
Epilogue
The bravest thing you will ever do is love again.
Molly
Joshua’s arm is across my bare stomach, and I watch the blades of the ceiling fan turn slowly above our heads. It’s been six weeks since we brought down Gavin, since Lara shot him in the back of the head as he tried to choke me to death.
We spent years sneaking in and out of hotel rooms, on and off of trains, going back and forth from France to the U.S. and Canada.
The list is complete.
They’re all dead.
But I’m not satisfied.
It’s not enough.
“You’re awake?” Joshua rises up beside me, that irresistible smile on his face.
Silver hair flops over gray eyes, square chin, square jaw, and full lips.
I love kissing those lips.
I love when they part and show off his straight, white teeth.
I can’t be in love with Joshua.
People like me aren’t allowed to love.
“I was thinking about the wedding.”
“Yeah?” He leans that handsome head on his hand and traces a finger lightly down the center of my forehead. “Give you any ideas?”
I reach up and grip his finger in my fist. “We stood in the shadow of the cathedral, steps away from where the theater used to stand.”
Lara told me as soon as Mark verified both Hudsons were dead, he had the old burned-out husk torn down.
“Okay.” Josh pulls my fist to his lips and kisses it. “But it’s gone. Those days are over.”
“It’s still happening, though. It’s happening here.”
“In this bedroom?” His warm hand covers my breast, and I love the feel of him touching me. It sends heat blazing between my thighs.
I’ve never had a real boyfriend. I’ve never had sex because I cared about someone… Until this happy boy singled me out on the street and decided to pursue me. I don’t even remember when I surrendered. Lara left, and I had to stay with him. One night he asked if he could kiss me, and that kiss blazed into a wildfire.
We stayed in bed making love for two days.
It scared the shit out of me.
I’ve never lost control that way.
Now he plays with me. He knows how to touch me to have me melting into his arms, giving in to the pleasure we find together.
Then he told me his dad was some tech billionaire, and I almost left him.
“Don’t distract me,” I say, catching his hand and threading our fingers together.
He blows air through his lips and sits up in the bed. In this enormous loft apartment that probably costs thousands of dollars a month to rent.
I don’t deserve him.
“Do you know how lucky you are?” He looks down at me, brow furrowed.
“Excuse me?” I sit up, eyes blazing. “What makes me so lucky?”
“You’re lucky Lara got you out of there, took you to France and helped you find a new life. A lot of girls are trapped in the cycle. They never break free, or they end up dead.”
Now he’s talking. “That’s why I have to do this. I escaped. I have to help them escape—all of them.”
He nods. “I can help you. My dad sent me here to find what inspires me.” He grins, and that absolutely unfair dimple pierces his left cheek. “You definitely inspire me.”
My stomach flutters. “What does that mean?”
“It means I want between those sexy legs again.” He rolls forward, dragging me down the mattress and beneath him as his expert mouth covers mine.
I’m wet, and my thighs are already parting. “Wait,” I gasp, lifting my chin. “We can’t have sex again.”
His head pops up, and he frowns. “Why not?”
“Because I wasn’t finished.”
He doesn’t get off me, but he does stop kissing me. Bracing his arms on both side of my face, he watches my mouth. I run my eyes quickly up and down the lines of muscles on his lean arms. Joshua is all lean muscle.
“Well?” He nods briefly. “What else? I’m trying to be patient, but it’s hard. Have you seen your breasts?”
My cheeks grow hot, and I blink down to where his stomach touches mine. “You said you could help me.”
It’s a quiet reminder. I’m not sure I want his help, but I am curious.
“We’ll start a foundation, a safe house. I’ll get dad to fund it, you can run it. We can do community outreach, work with the police and soc
ial workers.”
He rattles it off so fast, my head spins.
At the same time, my stomach turns.
Outreach is not what I have in mind.
Still…
“That’s a good place to start.” I nod, thinking. “We’ll need a way to get them on their feet after—”
“After what?”
Shit. I can’t say after I kill the abusers, the pedophiles...
After I cut off their balls and shove them down their throats.
I haven’t been able to shake the asshole on the couch’s words since that night below the tattoo shop. I want tight, thirteen-year-old pussy…
The words have haunted me, plagued me, driven me.
They set my teeth on edge.
They clench my jaw so tight, red floods my vision.
“Where did my girl go? he says softly, leaning down to nuzzle my jaw with his full lips.
Three deep breaths.
Inhale, exhale.
Inhale, exhale.
Inhale, exhale.
It’s how I come back. I learned it when I would kill them with Lara. I had to have a way back to the light. I come back on the last breath.
“I’m here,” I say, exhaling slowly. “I like your idea. I have an idea of my own, but I like yours. It’s good. Like you.”
He smiles and kisses the top of my chest. “Like you,” he says.
It’s his sheltered view of the world.
I’m not good.
And this isn’t over.
* * *
Molly’s story is HIT GIRL, coming March 19…
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More Tia Louise
BOOKS IN KINDLE UNLIMITED
THE BRIGHT LIGHTS DUET
Under the Lights (#1), Jan. 8, 2018
Under the Stars (#2), Jan. 22, 2018
“Sundown” (a Bright Lights novella)
Hit Girl, coming March 19, 2018!
STAND-ALONE ROMANCES
When We Touch, 2017
The Last Guy, 2017*
(*co-written with Ilsa Madden-Mills)
PARANORMAL ROMANCES
One Immortal (Derek & Melissa, vampires)
One Insatiable (Stitch & Mercy, shifters)
* * *
eBOOKS ON ALL RETAILERS
THE DIRTY PLAYERS SERIES
The Prince & The Player (#1), 2016
A Player for a Princess (#2), 2016
Dirty Dealers (#3), 2017
Dirty Thief (#4), 2017
THE ONE TO HOLD SERIES
One to Hold (#1 - Derek & Melissa)
One to Keep (#2 - Patrick & Elaine)
One to Protect (#3 - Derek & Melissa)
One to Love (#4 - Kenny & Slayde)
One to Leave (#5 - Stuart & Mariska)
One to Save (#6 - Derek & Melissa)
One to Chase (#7 - Marcus & Amy)
One to Take (#8 - Stuart & Mariska)
* * *
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When We Touch
Exclusive Sneak Peek
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Prologue: Ember
Where it begins…
Jackson Cane tastes like red-hot cinnamon, salt water, and sin.
When he concentrates, his long fingers twist in the back of his dark hair, right at the base of his neck, and he tugs.
Tugs…
Tugs…
I like to weave my fingers between his and pull.
Then ocean-blue eyes blink up to mine, sending electricity humming in my veins. He smiles. I smile, and it isn’t long before our lips touch. I straddle his lap as I open my mouth, and his delicious tongue finds mine, heating every part of my body.
Our kisses are languid and deep, chasing and tasting.
We sizzle like fireworks on a hot summer night.
Eventually, with a heavy sigh, I pull away, but hours later my mouth is still burning. I taste him everywhere I go.
Lying in my bed in the dark room, my heart aches, heavy and painful in my chest. Every breath is a burden. I blink slowly at the ceiling and slide my tongue against the backs of my teeth thinking about hot cinnamon, tangy salt, caramel and sugar, sunshine, and the best summer of my life.
The instant I hear it, I’m on my feet, tiptoeing to my open window. The low growl of an engine tells me he’s there in the darkness, out on the street in the shadows just past the streetlight.
The late summer humidity hangs heavy in the air. Cicadas scree from the limbs of the mighty oak tree beside the house. Their damp wings make them too heavy to fly, and the sadness in my chest is replaced with breathless anticipation.
I’m panting. I’ve never felt this way for anyone, and I’m desperate to hold onto it. Somehow I know I’ll never feel this way for anyone ever again.
Quiet as a mouse I scamper to my door and listen. The only sound is the hum of Momma’s oscillating fan pushing the warm air around her room. I can’t hear her breathing. I can’t hear anything… except the noise of Jackson’s engine on the street below, waiting.
Red-hot cinnamon.
Salt water.
Sin.
Pressure tingles around the edges of my skull, and a bead of sweat tickles down the side of my neck, dropping past my shoulder, slipping between my breasts.
I’m at the window slowly lifting the glass, and I don’t care if she hears me. I dive through the space, out onto the cedar shake roof in my bare feet. I’ll get a splinter if I’m not careful…
So many reasons to be careful…
I ignore them all.
I’m going to him like a siren’s call in the ocean, like the mermaid story in reverse. I’m the hypnotized sailor. He’s the promise of so many wicked pleasures.
Reaching for the tree limb, I swing my body across the narrow gap two stories high, gliding down the trunk as the skirt of my dress rises to my hips. My bike sits where I left it at the side of the house, and I carefully pull it away, holding it as I tiptoe down the gravel driveway to the street.
I can’t take a chance on anyone seeing us together and telling my mother. Instead, I dash across the street between the thick beams of his headlights. He flickers them to let me know he sees me, and I plunge into the dark woods, pedaling fast.
Tires crunch on gravel, and I shoot down the pine needle path leading away from this place, through the tall, skinny trees, all the way out to the barren jetty of sand stretching under the moonlit sky filled with stars, surrounded by the clear blue waters of the ocean.
It’s our place.
The place where we’re the only two people on Earth.
In the summertime, the visitors to our sleepy little town use it to spend the day sunbathing and playing on the wide stretch of undeveloped sand. Now, on the edge of fall, with all the children back in school and Jackson leaving for college tomorrow, we have it to ourselves.
His engine roars on the road ab
ove, and I stand in the pedals to push harder, fueled by the burning desire twisting in my lower pelvis. I want to be with him now. I don’t want to waste a moment.
I go even faster as the trail slopes downhill. A narrow wooden bridge thump… thump… thumps with the pressure of my tires distressing the aging slats.
The instant the trees part, I toss my bike aside and run out of the darkness onto the glowing white sand. The sizzle of waves crashing on the shore fills the night, and the black ripples are tipped with silver light.
Jackson stands in his canvas shorts, his hands in his pockets, and a thin white tee rippling across his back in the slight breeze.
I’m breathing hard when I finally reach him, and he turns. White teeth in a full-moon night, deep dimples in both cheeks, he smiles down at me, and I feel so small. A lock of too-long dark hair falls over his blue eyes, and my breath catches. He’s so beautiful.
I swallow the knot in my throat as I gaze at him. What star crossed what planet in what solar system and said I could have him, even if it’s only for a little while?
“You made good time tonight.” His voice vibrates the warm air between us.
I force a laugh, moving to him until my hands are around his waist. My forehead rests on his chest, and I inhale deeply. He’s leather and soap and a deeper, spicier scent that’s pure Jackson Cane.
He feels so good in my arms.
His mouth presses against my head, and I lift my chin, reaching for his face. He leans down and claims my mouth, warm lips pushing mine open. I kiss him eagerly, curling my tongue with his, threading my fingers into the soft, dark hair falling around his cheeks, tugging.
An aching moan rises in my chest as he lifts me off my feet. Chasing his kisses, my mouth burns with cinnamon, my core tingles with need. He carries me to our place, a little shelter near the water’s edge where an enormous log is slowly turning to driftwood. We lower to the sand, me on my back, him on his knees looking down at me.