Keeping Jahleel: Jahleel #1.5 (Loving All Wrong)

by S. Ann Cole

  Miguel’s Adorn poured out in smooth waves through the surround speakers, floating around us, calming us.

  When my body started going numb because of Jahleel’s weight, I reluctantly pushed at his chest. “Roll over. You’re crushing me.”

  With an audible sigh, he moved onto his side, but drew me up to him so we were facing each other. “You hate me?”

  Guilt-stricken, I shifted my gaze from his. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that I was the one who messed up yet he was the one suffering compunction.

  When there came no response, he released me and rolled onto his back, then scrubbed his hands down his face. “You can’t even look at me…I’m so sorry.”

  This wasn’t right.

  I moved, draping my upper half over his hard chest. Finding his golden gaze, I whispered hoarsely, “No. No, JK. I fucked up. Not you. You’re the one who got hurt. You did nothing but love me and keep your promises. I’m sorry, JK.”

  With a downhearted expression, he watched me, his brows drawn low. “Back in that hotel room, I was rough and mean to you…” His warm hand cupped one side of my face. “I apologize for all of it. For my anger. I hated hurting you, Saskia. ‘Cause when you hurt, I hurt. I can’t help it. We’re too connected. I’m too in love with you. I feel what you feel.”

  I smiled, though it was sad. “I believe you.”

  “Not gonna lie and say I’m over the shit that went down, Sassy. That’ll take some time. Those images are gonna be in my head for a long time, maybe forever.”

  At that, I released a long, soul-twisting breath. What had I done to us?

  Jahleel continued before I could start crying again. “But every relationship has their flaws. This is our flaw. This is something I’ll have to love you through. We won’t be the only couple on earth with a rift in our love. A lot of relationships seems perfect from the outside lookin’ in.

  “But it’s a lie. No relationship is perfect. There’s always an ugly story swept under a rug of happy pictures and smiles. ‘Cause when you find the one, it’s just too fuckin’ hard to give them up, no matter the pain, no matter the shame, no matter the cost. So we have to patch up that fuckin’ rift, and love with a broken love. And it will challenge us to love harder, stronger, with more faith. Love fierce enough to overcast that rift, to make sure it never breaks open again.

  “And I love you now more than I did before, Sassy. Because I’ve gotten a bitter taste of what life without you is like. It’s fuckin’ miserable. You are my light. You are my world. I’ve never truly smiled until you. Never truly laughed until you. Never truly lived until you. Never truly loved until you. And I don’t ever wanna lose you. I don’t wanna know the future without you in it. You are mine. Do you believe me?”

  Tears were streaming half-way through. But happy tears this time. No mixture. Just tears of bliss. Because my life was back. My world was right again. Those golden eyes were glowing with love again. His touch was warm again. He was mine again.

  “I believe you,” I whispered.

  When he leaned up on his elbows to look down at me, his eyes were passive. Completely passive. He was so damn vulnerable right now, baring himself to me, hiding nothing, giving me everything.

  He loved me. Unequivocally. It was all there. Unconcealed.

  Jahleel Kingston loved me.

  “Now’s the time, Sassy,” he said, ever so softly. “You agree?”

  Momentarily thrown, it took me a minute to catch on. When understanding dawned, I grinned. Delirious with happiness.

  Now.

  Now was the time.

  “Yes. I agree.”

  The smile he gave me was so blinding, it was as if all his other smiles before now had been fake and this was his first real, genuine smile. “The gazebo? Yeah, I say the gazebo.”

  “It doesn’t matter where, JK.” My voice was hoarse from crying so much, and my cheeks hurt from grinning so hard. “As long as you’re there.”

  “Perfect.” He moved to get up from the bed. “Gonna call Dad.”

  “Wait.” I gripped on to his bicep to stop him. “Can we do the last part first?”

  “Fuck?”

  My expression to that made him chuckle, then corrected, “Er, I mean, consummate?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I prefer the term ‘make love.’”

  Laughing, he got up, then leaned down and lifted me from the bed. He threw me over his shoulder and I let out a squeal at the suddenness of it. “‘Kay. But let’s do it in the shower. I have ugly tears and some pretty nurse girl named Ashley all over me.”

  With a growl, I sank my fingernails into his skin and he yelped.

  He was still an arsehole.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Would you like to exchange vows?”

  Mr. Kingston, though called upon at short notice, had arrived half-an-hour ago both with disapproval that we wanted to do this in secret, and with pleasure that he was the one called upon to bind us.

  Jahleel and I sat cross-legged on a thick blanket in the gazebo outside, facing each other, hand in hand. While Mr. Kingston hovered above us.

  While I was in pajamas, Jahleel was barefooted in a normal sweats and T-shirt. Raw, just as we were. No one but us—and the pastor, of course. Who was also Jahleel’s father.

  The night was quiet. And the temperature was just right: not too chilly, not too warm. A full gray moon. Constellations out glistening. Not a single one hidden.

  It was the perfect night. With the perfect man. The perfect union.

  It was time to close the old book and start a sequel.

  At the mention of vows, though, I winced. Because I had none prepared. Who knew we’d be getting married immediately after reconciling?

  “Um…”

  “Hurts that you got nothing to say to me right now,” Jahleel said with mock offense, peering at me under his lashes.

  Letting go of his hand, I retrieved his ring from the throw-pillow between us, on which both our rings sat, then slid it onto his finger. “I’m no Shakespeare or Jane Austen. All I know is this: I love you. And if I lose you again, Jahleel Kingston, I swear to God I’ll die. My strength is all used up, so this ring means I’m leaning on you. You’re my fulcrum.

  “I’m leaning on you to get through the bad times, the sad times, the sick times, the storms and the quakes. Because you are my everything, I’m leaning on you for everything. You were my dream, then you came true. I wished to be your girl, and it came true. Then I wished to be your wife someday…” I paused to flash him a grin. “Apparently someday is right this moment. Now, I’m squeezing in another wish: to live a hundred years and day with you. I love you, JK. You are my life. Where you end, I end.”

  Jahleel smirked. “Wow. I’m the shit, aren’t I?”

  I reached over and punched his arm. “We’re getting married, you sod. Can you not be a cocksure arse for two seconds?”

  Above us, Mr. Kingston cleared his throat and I winced, murmuring an apology.

  Still smiling, Jahleel took up my ring from the throw-pillow and slid it onto my finger.

  “Sometimes people fall in love, and in the beginning, every little thing is cute and adorable. They laugh at each other’s jokes, and they crave to be around each other 24/7. But soon, things change, all that goes in reverse, then they fall out of love.

  “For us, I pray that never happens. My Always: I want to stay in love with you, always. I want to find the things you do cute and adorable, always. I want to laugh at your farts and compete with your belches, always. I want to tease you about your snores and your untidiness, always. I want to laugh at your shitty jokes and get turned on by your accent, always. I want to crave you always.”

  On a pause, he made a deep exhalation as his gold eyes glazed over. “My Promises: I promise to rub your feet when they hurt. I promise to pick up the slack when you’re beat. I promise to be more punctual and never leave you waiting….or hanging. I promise to be honest in all things and tell you the truth even when it hurts. I promise
to be a pillow for you to cry on, and a shoulder for you to lean on. I promise to be your nurse when you’re sick, and strong when you’re weak. I promise to never, ever hurt you again, physically, verbally or emotionally.

  “In tough times, I promise to stick with you, stay with you, fight for you. I promise to keep my promises. Before GOD, I make all these promises, Sassy. So please mark the sacredness of this moment. I never believed in Him because I never thought He cared. But then I started prayin’ for five things repeatedly: Love, contentment, peace of mind, humility, and light. And He gave me one thing in return”—a weak tear dropped from a single eyelash, so near imperceptible I would’ve missed it if I wasn’t staring so deep into his eyes—”you. I love you, Sassy. Thank you for sayin’ yes, to this. To us. Don’t ever leave me. Because, ‘You are my life. Where you end, I end.’”

  We stared at each other for a whole minute after he finished, because I was lost for words. Blown out of this world that I, me, Saskia Day, had managed to get the mighty Jahleel Kingston so undone. He shed a tear for me. His words… His promises…

  That made me shed a tear of my own. Two, actually. Or three.

  Okay, I was flat-out crying.

  Mr. Kingston cleared his throat again and we both glanced up. I’d forgotten all about the man’s presence.

  Eyes identical to Jahleel’s glossed over under the warm glow of the gazebo light as he said, “By the power given to me, I hereby pronounce you, Mr. and Mrs. Kingston.”

  Before we could even kiss to seal the deal, Mr. Kingston walked out of the gazebo, but stopped when he reached the bottom of the steps to look back at Jahleel. An honorable smile tipped up his lips when he said, “I’m so proud of you, son. Your mother was upset she wasn’t allowed to come. But I guarantee she’s going to sniffle all night when I repeat your vows to her.” Then that blessed golden gaze shifted to me. “Take care of my boy, Mrs. Kingston. I concur, you are his light.”

  With that, he turned and left.

  Swiveling my attention back to Jahleel, I panicked, “We seriously need to start planning some kind of reception or something, because once our people—ahem, Lion—find out we got married in secret, it’s…off with their heads!”

  Jahleel barked out a laugh at me, tumbling back on the comforter. The sound so soothing to my ears. Taking my hands, he yanked me down with him. “Breathe easy, wife. We can tackle that tomorrow. Or the day after…or the day after that. For now, let’s just be.”

  Inhaling a lungful of felicity, I snuggled up against him and did as he decreed. Be.

  Because, why not?

  After almost seven years of obsession, stalking, heartache, and pain, I finally had him.

  For real this time. As in legally, bindingly. That forever kind of way.

  I had him.

  I had Jahleel Kingston.

  And I was bloody well keeping him.

  For life.

  The End.

  We have no fucking end.

  Acknowledgements

  THANK YOU:

  To all the avid readers who took a chance on Jahleel, loved it, left a review, and recommended it their friends.

  I love you all something fierce.

  One Love!

  About the Author

  S. Ann Cole is a passionate writer and reader, and a lover of anything that distracts her from the real world. Reader first and second a writer, S. Ann Cole is an exaggerator, a laugher, sometimes overly chatty, sometimes overly shy. She believes cats are evil, and also detests dogs with a bitter passion—mainly because she’d been bitten over a dozen times on separate occasions by the rambunctious creatures in her formative years (even by her own dogs).

  Ann is not your typical girl: she hates chocolate, candle-lit dinners and all that hearts and flowers stuff makes her feel awkward, and coffee makes her drowsier than ever.

  A lover of all things ‘romance’, Ann has always been a writer of poetries and songs of any kind. All who’s acquainted with Ann can attest to witnessing her write her way through life: through destruction, devastation, hardship, sadness and disappointments, her coping mechanism has always been writing.

  Having an obsessive and unquenchable affair with the written word, she’s naturally a recluse who dwells inside her imagination and has to suffer continual bashings from her friends for being a neglectful pal who does nothing but sit around the computer all day, writing.

  When she’s not abusing her computer keyboard, you can find her nosing a novel, watching anything on television that makes her laugh out loud, studying the Bible, or nursing any of the three alcoholic beverages: Black Label and Coke, Heineken, or a glass of Merlot.

  Visit www.AnnCole.net for more information on S. Ann Cole’s books and upcoming releases.

  Contact Ann

  Twitter @AnnColeRomance

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  Website www.AnnCole.net

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  Goodreads www.goodreads.com/author/show/7010006.S_Ann_Cole

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  Facebook www.facebook.com/S.AnnColeRomance

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  Email: ann@anncole.net

  S. Ann's Bookshelf

  Mr. Mysterious in Black

  The Mysterious Man in Black could always be seen sitting by himself in his rented booth of the club that Sadie Francé begrudgingly worked to make a living. The peculiar man wasn't someone Sadie wanted to become acquainted with, because, as irresistibly handsome as he was, he was also eerie.

  So when he persistently continued to request a dance with her, she determinedly continued to shoot him down.

  On her last night, however, she caved.

  One strange conversation was all it took for Sadie to get sucked into the complexity of the sinfully hot, but unnerving, man in black.

  He sure as hell wasn't like any other man she'd ever come across. The man was simply...odd. Sadie could never understand him, his parabolic statements, his weird and inconsistent behaviors, or his weaving emotions.

  Still, Sadie found herself drawn to him, wanting him with a burning need. Why was she so attracted to him? Why was it so hard for her to resist him? Why was it so hard for her to stay away? Why did he seem so familiar?

  As he barged into her life, so did the frequency of inexplicable migraine attacks. When Sadie began having strange dreams, dreams that were her forbidden memories, memories that doctors told her were irretrievable, the mystery behind the man in black slowly, but surely, began to unravel.

  And it was painful.

  Love Has A Name

  A battle for control between two dominant souls. Who will submit?

  Being the daughter of Vince Blacksille, proprietor of a multi-billion dollar armament company, Axia Blacksille is rich by default and holds control over everything and everyone around her.

  She’s her own woman, who has her own money, her own business, and stars her own show. She does whatever she wants, whenever she wants, however she wants, because her life is hers and no one else’s.

  Control is hers. And, as she was taught by her famous, but dark, ex-boyfriend, she never, ever submits.

  Until… Nah, there’s no ‘until’… is there?

  When Axia inadvertently comes eye to eye with the illegally-handsome, cocky, womanizing, Internet billionaire Lovello Nelson, she doesn’t even bat an eyelash. Because if there’s one thing she hates, it’s pretty boys. Well, that’s her excuse…

  But the slate-gray eyed billionaire, who has Love as a name, is determined to get the stubborn, dark-haired gym owner beneath him and under control. To some extent, he succeeds, of course. The guy isn’t labeled a ‘genius’ for nothing.

  However, at the velocity which Axia and Lovello’s relationship takes off, there can only be one outcome: A heart-wrenching, yet beautiful, disaster.

  For a relationship to work, there either has to be a unilateral submission, or a bilateral compromise. Which will Axia and Lovello choose to save their catastrophic relationship?

  I Choose You

  Trevillo Nelson is a different
kind of billionaire. He wears that sharp business suit, but it sure as hell doesn’t fit. He does things on his own terms and lives by his own rules.

  A man of singular tastes, this thirty-two year old, oversexed demon doesn’t do young chicks.

  Are you single, free and disengaged? Sorry, he’s not into you.

  Are you off the market? Well, he’s most certainly attracted. And best believe he’ll seduce your underwear right down to your ankles, leaving you no choice but to give in.

  That’s how the real estate mogul has always lived his life—backwards. But things take a radical turn, both for better and for worse, when twenty-five year old interior designer, Krissan Kingston, walks into his office…

  Precious savior, it’s Angel versus Demon.

  Krissan Kingston is carefree, selfish, and unconcerned with the complexities of life. She lives each day as it is given, uses men for her own sexual pleasures, and then discards them without a second thought. She believes life and people are overrated, so she strides through life with a shrug and a “whatever”.

  Right out of the blue on a normal workday, Krissan Kingston gets summoned to her elusive boss’s office.

  She enters…

  …takes one look at the intimidating man with searing, azure blue eyes and sees only one thing:

  Danger.

  But instead of running in the opposite direction, she runs straight to him, crashing, colliding, exploding, not knowing who’s more hazardous to whom: Him to her, or her to him?

  When temptations arise and they are both tested, they both fail. And before they can even begin to forgive each other, to work it out, those mistakes erupt in their faces, throwing both their lives to the threat of death.