by Amali Rose
Sighing, my father stands up, his broad shoulders slightly hunched, and a look of frustration crosses his face. Closing his eyes, he takes a breath and seems to regroup as the sound of his phone buzzing with a text fills the air.
Looking down and pulling up the message, a slow smile lights his face, all sense of frustration gone.
It’s her, I realize with horror and I feel a single tear escape. Brushing it away furiously before he can notice, I watch as he slides his phone in his back pocket and resumes packing with a renewed vigour.
Moments later, he zips his suitcase closed and approaches me.
“C’mon, honey, walk me out,” Dad says, holding his hand out to me. I take it hesitantly. There’s no way I can stop this so refusing seems petty, and I allow him to lead me to the front door.
“I’ll call when I get home, okay?”
Home. This is your home, I want to scream. Here with me and Mom! But I don’t. I nod mutely and let him draw me into a tight hug. All too soon, he pulls away and with a last brush of his hand across my cheek, he turns and walks out the door. I watch him make his way down the front path, hop into his car, gun the engine and drive off down the street. The hand I had raised to wave goodbye, drops quickly back down to my side. There’s no point. He never looked back.
Chapter 1
“Ugh, shit.” The words fall from my lips as I trip over the cushion left on the floor with all the grace of a stumbling hippopotamus. Okay, maybe that last glass of wine wasn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever had. As I pull myself up I search for my kindle and sigh in relief as I spot it safe on the couch. I reach down and pick it up as I make my way to my bedroom, ready to curl up and enjoy my latest book boyfriend and this wine buzz I have going on.
After getting ready for bed I am snug and settled, devouring the filthy words on the screen with the enthusiasm of someone who has clearly not enjoyed any sexy times in a ridiculously long while. As my eyes eat up the words, my hand unconsciously smooths its way down my body, seeking relief from the tension pulsing in my core. As my fingers slide through the wetness, I groan softly. Grazing my clit lightly, a shiver escapes me. I am so worked up it’s only a matter of minutes before my teasing fingertips have worked their magic and I am moaning my release.
I sigh as I roll over thinking how too many of my nights are ending this way. I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like to have an actual guy touch me, and frankly, I’m ready to give myself the “it’s not you, it’s me speech”. I think about the advice my best friend Cassidy gave me the other day; online dating. I mean there’s no shame in it these days, right? We’re all busy, it’s a perfectly respectable way to meet people. And it works. I’ve seen the testimonials and surely, they wouldn’t lie. Right?
While I still retain a bit of liquid courage, courtesy of all the wine I drank tonight, I grab my phone and google “most successful dating sites”. It would seem Happily Ever After is the site of choice for all the despera... I mean, hopeful singles out there. I stifle a laugh at the name. I’m not looking for a happily ever after. Just a happily ever orgasm. So, before I lose my nerve I pull up the website and click on the ‘create an account’ button. Ten minutes later, I have completed my profile and set it loose into the online dating world. My smiling face gazes out at me from the phone screen and I can’t help looking at myself with pity. A sense of dread settles in my stomach as I send out a silent prayer to the dick-pic gods. Please no delfies. Or, you know, at least make them dicks worthy of my admiration. Oh god, what have I done?
BEEEEEP.
I sigh quietly as I reach to open the microwave and pull out the dinner for one as Cassidy continues her rant in my ear. “Seriously, Skye, I’m not sure how much longer I can stay there. The work is boring as fuck and the people are even worse! How can I be expected to work under those conditions? I’m not getting any sleep at night because I’m falling asleep out of boredom every day!”
I try to hold in a giggle as I listen to Cassidy complain about her job in office administration. Unfortunately, the result is an unattractive snort-giggle that alerts her to my mirth. “Well, I’m glad you find my pain so funny, loser!” she shrieks, and I can feel her glowering through the phone, which causes me to lose any pretence and I burst out laughing.
“It’s work, Cass, it’s not supposed to be fun. It’s just the eight hours we have to get through every day to get to the fun stuff.”
“Speaking of the fun stuff, you wanna go out tonight? Cocktails and tapas?” The change in Cassidy’s voice is immediate and if I didn’t know her so well, would be slightly disconcerting. But after ten years of friendship I am used to her swift mood changes and at times like this, I am grateful for them. Her work diatribes are becoming a daily occurrence.
“I would but I’ve got myself a hot date tonight. Ben and I agreed to chat at 8 o’clock.” I listen as Cassidy whoops loudly on the other end of the phone, mumbles something about sexting and starts to sing “bow chika wow wow.”
I roll my eyes at her outburst but I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. Cass is my opposite in every way. The yin to my yang, the Scary Spice to my Baby Spice. She is the dark to my light and I couldn’t imagine my life without her. She has also seen me despair over the long list of less than desirable men that have replied to my online profile, and encouraged me to persevere. Cassidy claimed the answer to my sex drought was only a click away, and don’t think she didn’t proclaim her triumph loudly when Ben Mackinnon appeared in my Happily Ever After mailbox. Sexy as hell and, if his messages are anything to go by, sweet, smart and funny; he ticked all my boxes and then some. And I’m not going to lie; the fact that he didn’t send me a dick pic within the first ten minutes had definitely worked in his favor.
“Okay, okay, okay, enough!” I laugh as I cut Cassidy off mid-chika. “I have fifteen minutes to scarf down this meal before it’s B-time so I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“B-time? Really? I sincerely worry about your cool cred sometimes, you nerd. But that’s a topic for another day. Later, Skyballs, and remember, two hands on your phone at all times, young lady!”
I groan as Cassidy hangs up on me and I place my phone on the kitchen counter. Tucking a strand of my long brown hair behind my ear, I pick up my fork and dig into my lean cuisine. After a quick glance at the clock I see it’s ten minutes to eight, and feel the butterflies start. Truth be told, I’m completely out of practice with this whole dating thing. My list of exes did nothing to change my mind and convince me that a happily ever after was in my future, and I had forgotten about this complex mix of excitement and fear which left you unsure if you were giddy or nauseous!
Placing my dishes in the dishwasher, I move to the couch and settle in for what I hope will be a long chat. Because chatting to Ben has become the highlight of my day, and while I probably should, I feel absolutely no shame in admitting that. The last month talking to him has been fun and easy; I find myself almost craving the contact with him. He has tried to convince me to meet him in person a handful of times but I’ve resisted. There is safety in where we are now, in the protection that the phone screen affords me. I started this online thing to find someone to have fun with. Someone who can scratch my metaphorical itch anytime it tingles, but the longer I talk to Ben, the more I can see myself falling for him and I can’t let that happen. My head understands this but as my phone dings and my heart begins to pound, it’s clear that my heart might not be on the same page. Ugh, someone needs to give me a stern talking to. I am a twenty-eight-year-old grown woman, not a giddy, giggling preteen. Then again, I haven’t gotten laid in a while so I give myself a pass.
BEN: You there, beautiful?
SKYE: Yep. How was your day?
Riveting, I know. Have I mentioned I’m out of practice?
BEN: Good, busy. One of the systems crashed so we spent the day trying to clean up that shit storm. I hope yours was better?
SKYE: I’m not even going to pretend to understand the compu
ter stuff lol but it sounds like a rough day, so I’m sorry. I almost feel bad telling you that I had a fantastic day, I got a promotion!
As happy as I was about the promotion, it was bittersweet. My boss, Juliet, had informed me that she wanted to take a step back from running Books & Beans, the bookstore slash coffee shop that she owned. So, she was promoting me to manager, and while I was incredibly excited about the chance to have more responsibility, and my mind was bursting with ideas, I was also slightly terrified at the prospect of failing.
BEN: That’s incredible news! We have to celebrate. What about dinner on Friday night?
My hand freezes over the phone keyboard. I’m not ready for this, it’s too soon. I mean, I know that realistically it stopped being too soon about two weeks ago (according to Cassidy “Bow Chika Wow Wow” Jensen, anyway) but I’m not sure I’m ready to take that next step yet. My phone vibrates in my hand, bringing my gaze back to the screen.
BEN: Baby, I’m sorry, I have to go, work just called and they need me back there. I’ll make some reservations for Friday and get back to you, okay? I’m really happy for you.
Well shit. I guess I’m meeting Ben.
Under The Cherry Blossoms is AVAILABLE NOW!
OTHER TITLES
Under The Cherry Blossoms
BY AMALI ROSE:
(Fleurs d’amour #1)
Skye Emery believes in true love.
A romantic idealist, she believes that everyone will get their happy ending. Everyone except her.
After drowning in the devastation left behind by a cheating father, keeping men at arms length and finding solace in a dirty book and a pint of ice cream is a safer option.
Enter Ben Mackinnon. The sexy reformed manwhore with a complicated past of his own, he overwhelms her with his perfect mix of sweet sincerity and dirty talking dominance.
When Skye and Ben stumble upon a childhood memory that connects them, Skye’s walls begin to tumble down. But when Ben’s past threatens to tear them apart she’s torn between running to protect her heart, or fighting for the only relationship she has ever invested in.
Book 1 in a STANDALONE series.
Get your copy here!
Dandelion Dreams
BY AMALI ROSE:
(Fleurs d’amour #2)
Cassidy Jensen has known true love.
With a wild heart and a fierce spirit, she lives life passionately, determined to embrace all it has to offer.
After a crushing loss she fights to regain her sense of self, attempting to rediscover the happiness that she knows can exist. However, one bad experience after another has Cassidy questioning whether lightning can strike twice.
Enter Mason Alexander. He is everything she doesn't want. Guarded, aloof and a workaholic; the only emotion he ignites in her is frustration.
When Mason and Cassidy are thrown together and forced to work with each other, they must learn to navigate their new relationship. Along the way proving that sometimes what you want isn't always what you need.
Book 2 in a STANDALONE series.
Get your copy here!
SNEAK PEAK
DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE
by
JOZ MAXEL
PROLOGUE
My mother loves to entertain; no reason is too insignificant. Tonight's barbeque is different, though. My little sister, Nala, and I are going to meet the man my mother has been dating for the last couple months. It must be pretty serious because not only are we meeting Larry for the first time, but also his son, who still remains nameless.
The back yard is starting to fill with pretentious couples who look like they have never stepped foot on grass, let alone been to a barbeque. Some faces look oddly familiar, but from where, I couldn't for the life of me tell you. I'm guessing these are Larry's people. The only other detail I have, other than he has a son, is that he's a CEO for some oil company.
The one person I'm excited, yet nervous to see, is Thomas. I've been crushing on him for the past month, and he gave me my first kiss two nights ago. It was sweet, but unexpected. I passed over an invite to him from my mom, who said she would love to meet the boy who makes her daughter "perky".
"I wanted to apologize for last night. I shouldn't have gotten touchy-feely with you."
I nibble on the inside of my cheek. "No, it's okay. I liked it."
He turns to look at me and smiles. "Yeah? I was worried you hated me."
I shake my head, trying to quell the blush I can feel staining my cheeks. "I could never hate you."
He nudges my shoulder. "Never say never."
I spot Thomas coming through the side gate, scanning the crowd for me as I put the dish of hors d'oeuvres on the table. By the time I'm done arranging the other dishes, Thomas grabs my wrist and pulls me into the house.
"Thomas, wait. What are you doing?"
"I just want to be alone with you for a minute."
He continues leading me to the staircase and down the stairs, to the basement. I try loosening the grip he has on me, but the more I try to pry his fingers off, the stronger his hold gets.
My brain is firing off warnings that this isn’t a good situation to be in.
"Thomas, stop. You're scaring me."
My heel catches on the edge of a stair and I fall into him, almost throwing him off, but he steadies himself before reaching the bottom.
It's an unfinished, open plan with exposed insulation and ductwork. A mattress sits on the cold cement floor in the corner directly in front of us, and a washer and dryer are situated a few feet to the left. The only closed-in space is a closet my mom built specially for all her pageant dresses.
''What's in there?" He points to the double white doors as he continues walking toward them.
"Can you let me go, now that you know where the basement is?"
He looks over his shoulder with an insidious smile. "The fun hasn't even started yet."
"I'll scream bloody murder if you don't let me go."
I claw at his arm, trying to get him to let go. With his free hand, he gets one of the doors open, pulls me inside and shuts the door. The lights flicker on, bathing us in a soft glow, as Thomas leans against the door, blocking my only way of escape.
I feel like I'm going to vomit.
He takes a deep breath and holds his hands up in surrender. I stand opposite him, terrified I may have started something that’s way beyond my sixteen years.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I hope I didn't hurt you." He looks at the hand I'm flexing to work the circulation back in to, the wrist a deep shade of crimson. "I'm sorry."
I cradle my throbbing hand to my chest. "Please, let me go. I want to go."
"You’re so beautiful and innocent. I just wanted to spend some time with you before..."
"Before what?" My young mind is having a hard time computing what’s going on. His eyes are manic, unfocused, and glassy. "Are you okay?"
He takes a few steps toward me, still holding his hands up. "I just want to make things right with you, is that okay? Can I come close?"
I’m suddenly frozen, doing nothing to stop him from coming closer. As he runs his hands up and down my arms in a show of comfort, my head screams at me to run, but my heart is relishing in the feel of his eighteen-year-old hands on me.
"You like when I touch you? Feeling my hands on you? My breath on your skin?"
Closing my eyes, lost in the heady fog his touch and words are creating, I don't even realize that we move until I'm pinned between him and the door. He trails kisses down the column of my neck while his hands skate up my legs, slipping under my skirt. I try to halt his movement, but he just shoves my hands away.
I open my eyes to see his pants are around his knees, his cock bobbing against his stomach. His lips are now pressed against my ear, whispering, "So damn beautiful," as he gives me most of his body weight while pushing my skirt up to my waist.
"No. Please, Thomas, not like this. Please, I'm not ready for this." I look him in the eye, hoping my desperation sp
arks something inside of him to stop this.
He pries my thighs apart forcefully and moves my panties to the side before driving himself inside me. I try pushing him off, but it only seems to excite him more.
With one hand, he manages to pin my hands above my head, and the other he uses to cover my screams as he picks up speed.
Something foreign begins to stir, causing a warm sensation to take over my body. My heart kicks up to a rapid beat—not in fear...but pleasure? How could I possibly enjoy what he’s taking from me against my will?
I begin to pulse around his cock, and this makes him smile.
"You’re gonna love what comes next."
Maybe if I close my eyes, if I concentrate hard enough, I can stop the impossible.
"Oh yeah, come for me, Keely," he grunts as he pumps once, twice, and then silently releases inside me. The quiver I feel between my legs starts off as a tremble and sends me soaring over the edge in a tsunami size wave.
Wordlessly, he drops my legs, pulls out and tucks himself inside his jeans. I can't breathe, let alone move. I stand there, watching him step back from me like what just happened was an everyday occurrence. The stickiness between my legs is starting to trickle down my thighs.