A Sweet, Sexy Collection 1: 5 Insta-love, New Adult, Steamy Romance Novellas (Sweet, Sexy Shorts)

by Kaylee Spring

  Then I hear his whole story. Him coming to Paris with my father. Spending every day going from hospital to hospital. Showing my picture to strangers on the street. When I ask when my father is going to get here, he says that he’s having heart palpitations. Of course, I sit up straight at this news.

  “Don’t worry,” he says with a soft voice. “I made him go back to the States just this morning. Told him he had to take care of his health first and that I would stay here and keep up the search.”

  Lucas isn’t telling the whole truth. His lie is as thin as a favorite t-shirt you keep but should throw away. If his heart was bothering him, why not see a doctor here? I leave this be for now. For now, my time is Lucas’s.

  He pretends to punch me on the cheek in slow motion, “I’ve heard of playing hard to get, but you took it a bit far, don’t you think?”

  I laugh. It’s hoarse and ends in coughing, but it’s the first time I’ve laughed in France. I’m sure of it. Even before my accident, I was too busy studying and getting used to the jetlag to have any time for fun. Only Lucas could do this to me. It’s confirmation that our bizarre promise to come to Paris and—as Lucas said the first time I met him—get married is as right as it feels. Though we’ve never talked about it with any seriousness, I can’t imagine not going through with it. In fact…

  “Hey. It got you here didn’t it?”

  Now it’s his turn to laugh. “I guess you got you me there. Not exactly the way I imagined spending our time in Paris, though.”

  “Lucas.” I rub his face with my fingers that I notice are bonier than they were in the past. Seeing my fingers makes me remember something missing. I look to the side table and open the drawer, hoping it will be in there.

  And there it is. The silly plastic ring he gave me sitting next to the book of poems I have always suspected were his. I always kept them in my purse, reading through them whenever I got a chance.

  Lucas confirms my suspicions when he reaches for it and says, “How did my book get here?” Clockwork is ticking behind his eyes. I can see him working it out until he asks, “You found it?”

  I nod. “The day we met. I kept planning to ask if it was yours, but I always forgot.”

  Lucas begins flipping through it. “There was a poem I was reading that day. I couldn’t remember the name of it for the life of me, but the last line has been running through my head all month: After each sorrow—”

  “—Joy came back again.” I take his hand in both of mine. “Well, I’m back. Remember what you said before we even met? How you were going to marry me.” He goes completely still. In fact, I think he’s stopped breathing as well. He is just watching, analyzing, waiting as time threatens to stop the next words from coming through. “There’s something I need to say too.”

  He opens his mouth but shuts it again just as quickly. We both swallow audibly at the same time. I have to say it. I’ve made him wait too long already. I slide the ring on my ring finger where it now fits after all my lost weight, and stare into his eyes.

  “I do.”

  Chapter 15

  Lucas

  Even standing at the front of the chapel, a priest on one side, Madame Anna on the other, I still can’t believe how fast everything came together. Just twenty-four hours earlier, Joy was telling me that she wanted to get married too. Still so frail in the bed, IVs hanging out of her arms, machines keeping track of her heart’s pace. And just three hours ago, we were still arguing with her doctor as we pushed our way out of the hospital and into the open air again, Joy leaning on me as she stretched her legs after her long rest.

  Only sixty minutes ago, we finally had our first moment behind locked doors. No nurses barging in to inject fluids or check her temperature. No well-wishing yet bothersome students from her school. No more reasons to hold back. Just the two of us in the same hotel room we would be returning to after the wedding for our first night as husband and wife.

  Joy isn’t back to her old strength, but she is moving around on her own now. She wears a wedding dress she picked out in under thirty minutes from a shop down the road from the hospital. I told her to take her time looking around, but she said it didn’t matter what she was wearing. The only important thing was the man she would be standing beside.

  I had to help her get into it, which is hardly traditional, but Madame Anna and her father are at the chapel getting everything prepared, so there isn’t anyone else. Her best friend’s flight was delayed, and we’re not even sure she’ll make it to the ceremony at this point. Everything happened so quickly it left people scrambling to catch up, but it also means I get to be the first person to see her in the dress.

  “You look gorgeous,” I say stupidly, unable to pull any other adjectives from the air. She pulls at the shoulder strap which keeps sliding down and then rubs her hands down her side to her hips.

  “You said that already.” She looks in the mirror. “That coma took all my curves, and it’s not like I had many to begin with.”

  She has lost weight, but Madame Anna already swore to remedy that. “Just stunning,” I say, happy with another description to fall back on.

  “Remember that time at the drive-in theater?” she asks, leaving the mirror to press up against me. She rubs her hands down my chest, across my stomach, landing on my crotch. She gives a light squeeze that immediately wakes my dick.

  “You mean when I stupidly rejected you so we could wait until we were in Paris?” I groan as grinds against me.

  “Do you know where we are now?”

  “Don’t you want to wait until after—” Her hand on the back of my head pulling me down, her lips locking onto mine, her tongue darting in my mouth. Joy doesn’t have to answer my unfinished question to let me know that there will be no more waiting.

  “Get me out of this thing,” she says, motioning at the million buttons running up her back that I just finished fastening. But she doesn’t pull away from our embrace, leaving me to blindly fumble at the things, desperate to get them undone and her free. Free and on top of me. When her hand wriggles down the front of my jeans and takes hold of my manhood for the first time, unhindered by denim, I give up getting the buttons off. I’m about halfway through when I just rip the rest away, feeling her smile against my lips as the fabric screams.

  Under her dress she is wearing only panties, and with her lost weight, those practically fall off of their own volition. Suddenly, Joy is naked, and I can finally admire all of the woman I am to marry.

  “Gorgeous and stunning,” I mumble out as she helps me out of my jeans and shirt. She pushes me back and I land on the bed. With a sweep of my arm, the tuxedo that was lying across the comforter tumbles to the floor. Joy straddles me, her breasts falling against my stomach as she begins kissing around, and then on, my nipples.

  “Oh, Joy,” I can hardly get the two syllables out between moans. My hands dig into her back, just under her shoulder blades when I remember where she was just the day before. The condition I found her in. I relax my grip and push her away, just long enough to ask, “Are you sure you’re healthy enough for this?”

  As an answer, she slides down my body, her breasts rubbing twin paths down my thighs. This time, she doesn’t take any time to tease me, instead immediately taking my dick in her mouth in a single motion, swirling her tongue around, moving in and out in a hypnotic fashion that leaves me wriggling and gripping uselessly at the bed sheets. She pulls her lips all the way up and off to smile at me. “Are you sure you can stop this time?” While her head is lowering again, she adds, “Don’t worry. You’re not going to break me.”

  I last three more seconds before taking hold of her shoulders, pulling her up, and flipping us around so that now I am on top. Joy lies under me, unashamed and unafraid. “I can’t hold back anymore. I need to be inside of you.”

  “Please,” she growls. My hand meets hers on my dick as we guide it into her slowly, and for the first time I get an idea of how wet she is. I almost stop, the word ‘condom’ on my lips,
but her hips push up and my penis runs up the length of her vagina. A united gasp falls out of us. Joy’s legs wrap around my waist, pulling me in as we match our rhythms. Her each moan throws me into wild hysterics. I take her hands in mine and hold them above her head, kissing under her ears, around the nape of her neck, nibbling at her earlobes. She is convulsing under me, her pussy tightening.

  “I can’t believe I’m about to come already,” she whimpers. And that is all I need to hear. I pull her up into my lap so that we are both sitting. Rock back and forth for a moment, but it’s not enough for her. Not enough for me. So I lift her from under her arms, moving her up and down and myself in and out. Right before I feel that I am going to explode, she shudders and latches onto me, her whole body running through uncontrolled quivers as though she has just been hit by lightning. Then I am following her, each gripping one another for dear life.

  At some point, I fall back, Joy on top of me, each with ragged breaths and flushed faces. She kisses me again. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” I answer. She smiles back. “Can you wait until after the wedding for that again?”

  She shakes her head against my chest. Then she pulls back, her eyes going wide. “My dress!”

  Chapter 16

  Joy

  The pews were not empty as we expected, but full of students and instructors from my school. Becca made it too, waiting in a lavender dress across from Lucas at the end of the aisle. My father walked me down the aisle. It was the picture-perfect wedding, except for the dozen wedding cakes waiting at the reception. Upon hearing about my ceremony, the school had initiated a competition to make the best cake in a short time. My classmates had pulled through brilliantly. The winner though was Madame Anna’s work. A five-tier strawberry chiffon cake.

  She claimed to have used over a thousand strawberries in its production, actually selling out no fewer than three fruit vendors in the process. It was a magnificent sight and even more delectable on the tongue. It was without a doubt the most amazing thing I have ever had in my mouth.

  Well, maybe the second most.

  But the wedding was months ago. We left Paris soon after, touring Europe by train on a honeymoon that lasted through to the end of summer. Then, right before courses started up again, we returned to Paris to continue my schooling with a scholarship from Madame Anna and money from my dad to keep us going.

  “You sure you don’t need something while I go out?” Lucas asks me. He’s been taking this break as a chance to work on his poetry, but when he gets tired of staring at his paper, he goes on walks around the city. And he always makes sure to bring back a baguette. It’s our favorite snack for nights when we snuggle up and watch classic black and white movies together. “Oh, do you want me to pick up some of that wine again? The stuff I got last time? That was good, right?”

  He hugs me from behind, and his questions finally break through my concentration. My long overdue stretch is broken by him kissing my neck. “Just be sure to bring yourself back.” My gasp at the sudden kiss evolves into a moan as he works his way up my neck and begins nibbling at my earlobe. He knows this drives me crazy, and he also knows I have an important exam in two days.

  “Or you could just give me a reason not to leave.” Lucas turns me around in the swivel chair, giving him access to my lips. My arms go around him without any permission from my brain. Of course, my lobes are drowning in a flood of endorphins. So when one thick arm goes behind my knees and the other around my back, my only tiny effort of resistance is a squeal. Instead of turning for the bedroom, though, he drapes me across the counter and pulls away. “I’m not going to keep you too long. I know how much you need to get back to your books.”

  The last page I read flashes across my memory, but the words are all scrambled, and then Lucas pulls my panties away, leaving me exposed under my skirt. I’m expecting him to unzip himself, but he drops to his knees and licks his way up my thighs. My shudder is all the prompting he needs to flick across my clitoris. He knows its location intimately, as well as how it likes to be treated. My knuckles shine white as I grip the edges of the countertop, arching my body up as blood rushes down, along with the attention of every iota of my being.

  “Oh, god.” The words seep out of me like the last note of a symphony. I think back to our first time, and soon I’m repeating his words back to him. “I can’t hold back. I need you. Now.”

  I don’t know if he already had his dick out, but before my next desperate breath, he is sliding inside of me. A horrible grunting moan shakes through me, an embarrassing sound in front of anyone but Lucas. I’m all too aware of the way my breasts bounce up and down as he plunges deep inside me again and again. But I don’t care. As he cups them in his hands, I take the opportunity to latch onto his arms. Pull him down for just long enough to kiss me.

  Then he is back upright. I’m on my back, exposed and riding a cresting wave. Before I can ride it to it’s crashing conclusion, he pulls out, the lack of his presence making me sigh. Then I am flipped upside-down, my chest across the counter, and he is inside me again. The initial shock disappears as I am shot back to the edge of the wave. He uses a free hand to rub my clitoris in a circular motion, subtly speeding up to keep rhythm with his thrusts.

  “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” I’m repeating even as I quiver around him. Just as I orgasm from what feels like every corner of my body, he erupts inside me.

  After a minute to catch our breaths, he pulls me up and hugs me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “I knew I would marry you the moment I saw that photo in the diner.” After a contented breath and a squeeze of his arms, he finishes with, “But I never imagined all of this.”

  “All of what?” I ask, barely coherent after that orgasm. It’s definitely in our top three, and that is some tight competition. “Paris?”

  “Not Paris.” He squeezes again. “All of you.”

  “And I certainly can’t get along without my poet. Or his obsession with baguettes.” I laugh a little and feel him smile.

  “And life is nothing without my Joy.” We kiss again, and he adds, “You know, I was watching this French documentary about cooking the other day. It said food is all about passion. Not books. So I was thinking tonight, instead of studying we could—”

  I stop him with a playful slap on his chest. “No sir, mister. We had our fun, now it’s back to work.” I push him towards the door. “Go get your precious baguettes and wine.”

  He smiles back at me, holding the door open. The fresh scents of fall in Paris blow in through the crack. Lucas repeats a little phrase we’ve gotten into a habit of saying. A simple back and forth, reciting the final line of what is now our favorite poem. “After each sorrow,” he begins.

  And I finish with, “Joy came back.”

  Chapter 1

  April

  Clay looks nothing like his profile photo.

  “My friends are going to get us in without paying the cover. How sweet is that?” He walks too close to me so I can smell his broken relationship with soap and deodorant.

  “What kind of music do they play?” I’m being polite, despite the fact that he isn’t actually close to six feet tall. Not that it’s something I care about it, but that’s how tall I am, and I vet guys out by this on dating apps like the one that led to my current fortuitous meet-up. I find that if I have more than three inches on a guy, they always focus on this difference. As if something they have no say in, like the color of their eyes or the length of their fingers, is a good way to judge someone.

  The stained t-shirt and grimy toenails unhidden by sandals about to fall apart I can all overlook. God knows I’ve looked worse myself after a weekend binging my favorite shows, eating nothing but ramen noodles and cereal. The only difference is that the last time I did that was four years ago. Back when I was in college and could shirk responsibilities as easily as letting the laundry bag overflow. Clay seems the kind of guy who’s never met a responsibility he hasn’t immediately tossed aside.<
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  “They’re not a band,” he says with a laugh that’s somehow as greasy as his scraggly face. “They do role-playing. It’s this new rendition called Fantastic Feats, and there’s this whole exhibition center that they’ve got for the weekend. It’s like Comic Con, but without all the fakers. You ever heard of Comic Con?”

  The extent of my knowledge is that it’s a place where people dress up as superheroes and Japanese characters. I think it takes place in California, but I’m not sure. I nod anyway.

  “Anyway, I figured we could grab a bite to eat before heading there. You like Italian food?”

  Before I can answer, we are at his favorite ‘Italian restaurant’, which in actuality is a Dominoes Pizza. Clay laughs at his joke and orders a supreme pizza. When I say that I’m actually a vegetarian, he says I can just pick off the meat. We wait for the food in the parking lot, because this is a delivery and pick-up location only, so there’s not a single table in sight.

  Only half listening to his rambling about his friends’ character sheets and stats and all the rules about role-playing, I watch the traffic ripping across the highway, wishing I was in any of the cars passing by. And planning how I can get back at Ashley for setting me up with this wreck of a human. She did say that she hadn’t spoken to him since high school but still thought that since we were both interested in fantasy stuff that we might hit it off. Clay is the typical guy who probably lives off his parents, spending any money he does make on video games and fedoras. Meanwhile, I see one Japanese animation and according to Ashley I’m a total nerd, but Clay’s entire life is two-dimensional. The truth is that I’d rather curl up to a mediocre rom-com any day over a critically acclaimed blockbuster featuring magic or flying protagonists.