by Carmen, Roya
I close my eyes. My heart is so full it feels as though it can’t take anymore. I hold his beautiful face and look into his eyes for eternity. The past week plays in my mind like an old film. A beautiful story, a book with pages bright and colorful, turned eagerly. From the first time I laid eyes on him to the first time he pleasured me to the first laughs we shared.
There are so many memories I can barely process them all: posing for him as he sketched me, the two of us dancing around each other as he showed me his beautiful city, the playful smile on his face as he picked out my favorite books at the library, the taste of his lips, the feel of his hands on me, the look in his eyes when we made love. No one has ever looked at me like that.
And before now, I’ve never looked at anyone that way either. “I think I love you too, Alex.”
We don’t say another word. He presses his mouth against mine, then wraps his strong hands around my face as he pushes his body slowly into mine. With every sensual thrust, he brings me closer and closer until he brings me to the edge.
I don’t want this week to be over. I don’t want the night to end. I don’t want to ever fall asleep, but in spite of myself, I drift into slumber, tucked comfortably in his arms.
* * *
The drive to Vermont is great, full of laughs and good conversation. But as we stand by my house, I’m a mess. I don’t want to say good-bye.
“So this is where you live,” he says quietly.
“Yes, that’s me up there. I rent the top floor.”
His face stretches into a wicked smile. “That is something I would love to see.”
I bite my bottom lip, already aroused. With just a look and a playful smile, he has the power to drive me crazy. “Well, I will need help with my luggage.”
He doesn’t take even a second to check out my place. As soon as we’re inside, he presses me against the wall, kisses the hollow of neck, and digs his warm hands under my summer skirt. I’m already wet for him. He slides down my cotton panties, grabs a condom from his pocket, and undoes his fly so swiftly I barely have a chance to see his beautiful, hard cock.
He pounds into me so hard the photos on the wall rattle. The picture of my childhood cat, Areo, crashes to the floor. One last quickie to tide him over for the long ride back. He can’t stay because he has an interview the next morning and he needs to get his portfolio ready.
“I want to make you come one last time,” he says, his words pressed against my ear. “I want you to scream.”
As I feel my body flush, my breath gets away from me. My climax is nearing, and yes, I want to scream. We moan loudly, the sounds of our pleasure thunderous in my apartment. God, I hope the neighbors downstairs don’t hear.
It feels so damn good, I don’t even care.
He holds me up against the wall for the longest time, almost as if he never wants to let me go. But eventually, he releases me. His gaze clings to mine—he seems as heartbroken as I am. I’m sure he wants to stay. He pulls his gaze away, hiding his emotions. “I don’t want to, but I should probably go.”
His words sting. “Yes… I understand.”
He leaves me to go to the washroom. I’m in tears when I pull my panties back up. I know he has to go. When he comes back, I offer him a drink, and he accepts a bottle of water. I don’t have any food to offer him, and he says he’ll grab lunch on the way.
“Have a good trip,” I say. “Thank you so much for driving me back.”
“It was my pleasure.”
I take him in one last time: his gorgeous hazel eyes, the playful smile and unshaved jaw. He just fucked me against my wall, but I want him again.
Just before he steps out, he kisses me on the cheek. “I will miss you, Samantha. Promise to keep in touch.”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Good. Good-bye, my little firecracker.”
And the next second, he’s out the door.
Epilogue
It’s been six months. I still think about that week all the time. Of course I would—it was the most amazing week of my life, and I don’t want to forget a single detail.
Trish says I should move on. She tells me I should find myself a new guy and get on with my life. Although even she admits that I probably won’t be able to snag another guy as hot as Alex.
I haven’t tried very hard to forget him, that’s for sure. His sketches of me still hang in my bedroom and living room, set in matted white frames—they look lovely in my apartment. And I’ve displayed the dress, tucked in the corner of my bedroom on a vintage mannequin I picked up at a garage sale a few months ago. When I saw that mannequin, tall and flamboyant, I knew it was meant for my dress.
I’ve been busy working, reading, and hanging with Trish and our friends. I was so inspired by my trip I’ve also been learning French. And to my mother’s delight, I’ve even taken up art. I dabble with ink and watercolor, creating whimsical abstract pieces full of emotion and colors. I’m still experimenting and trying to find my own style.
I might very well be destined for spinsterhood, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I just don’t see other men anymore. Alex has ruined me for other men. I compare everyone to him, and they just don’t measure up.
I never think about Matthew or Melanie anymore. I’m not even sure if they’re still together. I haven’t looked at their social media since the fateful morning I left for Québec City. Now I’m busy stalking Alex. And he’s busy stalking me back.
Trish says this isn’t healthy, but there’s no way I can say good-bye. We chat every day online, and occasionally we video chat—I’m filled with excitement every time. We’ve both said we would move on with others, but we never talk about it. I know I haven’t moved on, and sometimes I wonder if he has. I don’t dare ask. We share our art and our stories, and we never seem to get bored of each other. I cannot imagine my life without him. If this is all I’ll ever have, I’m okay with that.
I’m cradling a cup of hot cocoa and staring at my poor excuse for a Christmas tree when my phone buzzes. My breath catches every single time it makes a sound, and I wonder if it’s Alex at the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
“Hello, firecracker.”
I smile as soon as I hear his voice. “Hello to you too. What are you up to today?”
“I am busy,” he says, his voice cheerful—I can almost see the smile on his face. God, how I wish I could see him in the flesh and hold him. “I have some very good news for you. I think you will like it.”
My breath catches, anticipating his next words. I sit on the edge of my sofa, gazing at the nude sketch he did of me that first day of class.
“Well, you know how I have been looking for a job teaching?”
“Yes?”
“Well, I did a video interview last week with the Vermont College of Fine Arts,” he tells me. My mind goes numb, not quite grasping his words as he goes on. “I wanted to tell you, but I did not want you to be upset if I did not get the—”
“You got the job?”
“Yes!” he cheers. “A six-month contract… starting right after the Christmas break.”
I’m so happy my eyes instantly tear up. I know he did this for me.
“The only problem is I have nowhere to stay,” he says with a hint of a laugh.
I smile. “Well, I know my place is small, but there’s plenty of room for you.”
“Thank you. And maybe there is room in your bed too?”
“Tons of room,” I reply with a giggle.
“Mmmm…” he breathes. “Are you in your bed right now, baby?”
“Um… wait…” I jerk up from the sofa and bound over to my room. I plop on the bed. “Yes.”
“I like the thought of you in your bed…”
“Are you in bed too?”
“Uh-huh.”
I bite my lip as I picture him in his bed.
“Are you naked?” he asks playfully.
I smile and slide up my T-shirt. “Almost… I still have my T-shirt on.”
He laughs
. “I love you, firecracker.” He pauses. “You’re the only one for me. It’s only you.”
“I love you too,” I reply, giddy. “And ditto… only you.”
“I think I might marry you one day.”
I smile. “Yes, you keep saying that.”
“Now take that T-shirt off.”
I laugh, and with those words, I pull my shirt over my head.
And I let him rock my world.
The End.
Thank you so much for reading!
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A note from the author:
Hi! Thanks so much for reading ONLY YOU. Hope you enjoyed Alex and Sammy’s story. If you enjoyed the novella, please consider telling your friends about it, or writing a review and checking out my other books.
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Cheers!
About the Author
Roya Carmen is a book junkie, self-professed chocoholic and hopeless romantic. A graduate of Ryerson University, she worked in Graphic Communications before becoming a stay-at-home mom. She has always loved writing, finding her passion for romance in 2008. She enjoys spending time with her family, camping, playing billiards, and painting. And of course, there is nothing she enjoys more than sitting down at her laptop and making up stories – and if those stories should include beautiful men, a little romance, and a few steamy scenes, all the better!
Roya lives north of Toronto with her husband and three children.
Also by Roya Carmen
The Ground Rules Trilogy - Bestselling erotic romance trilogy.
The Riverstone Series – A series of steamy standalone reads. All books available on KU.
One Week Series - A series of steamy standalone reads. All books available on KU.
Back to You - A sweet summer romance. Available on KU.
Read below for more detailed info.
The Riverstone Series
A beautiful inherited estate.
Three unforgettable love stories.
All books available on KU.
Loving Amber
(A standalone novel. Book 1 of The Riverstone Series.)
Torn by tragedy. Reunited by love.
A steamy forbidden romance. Two years following her husband’s tragic death, a widow struggles with feelings for the man she holds responsible.
“Loving Amber is a second chance at love story with a twist of the forbidden. This book had so many feels. My heart broke over and over again.” - Sultry Sirens Book Blog
Author's note: contains sexual scenes and some coarse language. This is the first book of the Riverstone Estate Series and can be enjoyed as a STANDALONE read.
Loving Ruby
(A standalone novel. Book 2 of The Riverstone Series.)
A sinful boss secretary romance.
I’ve heard all the rumours: He killed his wife. He’s on house arrest. He’s a vampire. Yet still, when I get a job offer from the reclusive Mr. Hyde, I jump at the chance. Yes, I know I’m crazy.
I’m cautious at first, but then I discover a beautiful, quirky man. I also see a tortured soul who lives in darkness. I know I should run, yet I can’t tear myself away. I want to discover all his secrets. I desperately want to help him. And when he draws me deeper into his strange little world, I want to stay.
Author's note: contains sexual scenes and some coarse language. This is the second book of the Riverstone Estate Series and can be enjoyed as a STANDALONE read.
Loving Jade
(A standalone novel. Book 3 of The Riverstone Series.)
A story about courage and new beginnings.
In an attempt to escape her abusive husband, a woman seeks refuge at a horse estate and falls in love with her equine therapist.
Author's note: contains sexual scenes and some coarse language. This is the last book of the Riverstone Estate Series and can be enjoyed as a STANDALONE read.
The Ground Rules Trilogy
Two beautiful couples. Five simple rules. One hot mess.
Gabe and Mirella Keates are happily married – high school sweethearts, in fact. But by chance, one fateful night, they meet the rich and enigmatic Weston Hanson and his beautiful wife Bridget.
Mirella is instantly drawn to the sexy, mysterious, peculiar man and soon becomes obsessed with him. And when the dynamic couple makes them an unthinkable proposal, Mirella and Gabe accept, driven by lust and desire, despite knowing the risks.
The ground rules are clear, but as Mirella discovers the kind and gentle man hidden under Weston’s cold, rigid exterior, she soon falls hard for him. And as Weston’s walls begin to crumble, he starts to break his own rules as well.
As Mirella falls deeper, she is torn between her feelings for Weston and her love for her husband. And as the volatile and passionate Gabe becomes increasingly jealous, Mirella realizes her entire world is tearing at the seams.
Author's note: contains sexual scenes and some coarse language. This is a trilogy but the first book can be enjoyed as a standalone read. The Ground Rules (Book 1), The Ground Rules Rewritten (Book 2), The Ground Rules Undone (Book 3)
Read the excerpt of Chapter One following this section.
The One Week Series
A series of standalone reads.
All books available on KU.
One Week
Gabbie and Eli’s story.
A troubled marriage. A one week hall pass.
A married woman falls for a beautiful stranger she meets online, and is given permission by her husband to spend a week with him.
One Week Hating You
Maeve an Blake’s story.
A second chance love hate romance.
One Week in Paris
Kayla and Oscar’s story.
A friends-with-benefits love triangle.
The Ground Rules - Excerpt - Chapter One
Preface
FEW WORDS were spoken. Yet I knew. I can’t really explain it…physical attraction is a powerful thing, an all-consuming thing. I didn’t want it, and I certainly wasn’t looking for it, but there it was, nevertheless.
I should have run in the opposite direction. But I didn’t. No…I yielded to it.
It’s amazing how life can change so easily—veer off the path. A single moment, a decision you make, however insignificant, can change the course of your destiny.
For me, it all started with a pink dress.
Chapter One
GOODNESS…MY TOES are a disgrace. I haven’t looked at my feet in a while, and as I stare down at the faded, chipped blue polish on way-too-long toenails, I realize I might be letting myself go.
I really need a pedicure.
I can’t remember the last time I gave myself a pedi. Chloe’s toes are perfect little shiny red buds—I just did her nails yesterday.
When did my daughter’s toenails become more important than mine? Probably about eight years ago or so. I first painted her toenails when she was just a baby—just wanted to see what it would look like.
I suppose that’s what happens when you become a mom. One day you have a life. You look hot. Other men (men who are not your husband) want to do wicked things to you.
And then…you’re painting your baby’s tiny toenails.
I sigh as Chloe wraps one of my colorful scarves around her neck, her dark brown curls caught under the silk. We’re playing dress-up.
She twirls in front of the wall mirror. “Do I look grown-up, Mommy?” Her gorgeous eyes gaze at me intently. “Well, do I?”
“Yes, sweetie. You look very sophisticated.” Classier than me, I muse—ghastly toes, shabby sweats, and all. Every time I look at her, I see her father. She looks so much like him—the crazy dark curls, the gorgeous, sleepy hazel eyes and the slightly off-kilter, devilish
smile.
She’s precious, standing in my over-sized black pumps and red cocktail dress, a hodge-podge of necklaces draped around her neck.
Her little sister stands on a vanity chair, arms stretched as she reaches for one of my dresses. “How ’bout this one?”
I give Claire the pick of the crop. I never wear them anymore. And I do have a lot of dresses—when a pretty one catches my eye, impulse overtakes me. I never ask myself, “When am I ever going to wear this?” If I did, I probably wouldn’t have this overstuffed closet.
I’ve taken over the closet, in fact—Gabe’s clothing is stuffed in an armoire, but I don’t think he minds. He’s a simple guy—he wears mostly jeans, T-shirts, and plaid button shirts. He doesn’t need a closet.
Well, that’s what I tell myself anyway…
I study the dress Claire has picked out—it’s one of my favorites, probably the favorite. It’s a fifties-era dress I spent a small fortune on at one of those posh vintage stores—pink chiffon over taffeta, a corset-like bodice with lacy straps, and a flowing skirt that falls just above the knee.
The pink dress brushes the carpet, hanging off Claire’s tiny six-year-old frame. She looks so sweet in it. I can’t help but stare. I’ve only worn it twice—once at the theatre, the other time at a wedding. Gabe’s oldest brother tied the knot on a beautiful July day, which somehow managed to turn into a torrential downpour. We all got drenched. Gabe and I sprinted to our hotel room, undressed in a fury, and made love. Gabe’s wet shirt was plastered on his body, the tribal tattoo covering half his torso peeking through the soaked fabric. It’s one of my favorite (very hot) memories.