His to Love (Fireside #1)

by Stacey Lynn

  Next to me, Tyson chuckled.

  Aidan and Declan grinned. That was when I knew they were the same kind of men Tyson was.

  Good men.

  Bossy men.

  I loved that kind of man.

  Chelsea gave in with a defeated sigh and reached for her purse. “Fine then, but I’m leaving a tip. I’ll go call the girls. I’ll see you in a bit?”

  “Yup,” I returned as she slid off her stool. Then I watched her say goodbye to Declan and Derrick, before her eyes shifted and she barely managed to murmur a word to Aidan.

  I gave her a smile when she walked away.

  But I noticed when I turned back to the table I wasn’t the only one watching her leave, because Aidan’s eyes were trained on her back.

  I smiled into my glass when I heard Tyson ask, “You doing anything Declan? Any chance you can get some time off and hang with us?”

  One side of his lips rose into a sneer. “Nah. I’ve had some problems in the alley lately.”

  Tyson’s interest piqued and his back straightened. “What kind of problems?”

  Declan waved him off. “Probably just some little high school shits messing around by the dumpsters, but I want to stick around until close to see if I can stop them.”

  “If you need me—,” Tyson started.

  Declan scowled further. “I think I can handle teenage fuckers.”

  Tyson lifted his hands and surrendered. “All right, man. Just checking.”

  “Damn,” Aidan said, smirking as a waitress walked up with two plastic bags. I figured they were a to-go order Aidan must have called in before he arrived because she walked straight toward him. “Give the guy a lead job in the FBI and he thinks he’s the shit.”

  Declan snorted.

  Tyson rolled his eyes.

  I threw my head back and laughed.

  “We gotta go,” Aidan said, after he took the bags from the waitress. “See you around?”

  “You got it,” Tyson stated, and slapped his friend on the back.

  After a round of goodbyes, and after Declan headed back to the kitchen and our food was paid for, Tyson turned to me and helped me off the stool.

  “What are the chances I have time to get you home and get you naked in bed before we have to be at Chelsea’s? I feel like it’s been days since I’ve been inside of you.”

  It had been less than twelve hours, considering he had woken me up that morning with his tongue doing delicious things in between my thighs, causing me to start my day with not one, but two orgasms.

  I flashed him a coy smile. “How about you take me to your place and find out?”

  —

  “Yes,” I gasped, thrusting my hips further. My hands fell forward until my fingers curled around Tyson’s shoulders. I was on top, after being on the bottom when Tyson had reminded me how incredible his tongue was on all parts of my body. When he’d given me one orgasm, he’d flipped us over and told me the rest was mine to take.

  He meant that for about a minute before he held me by the hips and thrust into me from beneath, rocking my world in more ways than one.

  “Bluejay,” he groaned, and rocked into me. Then he shifted his hips as he pulled me down on him, and he hit some secret place inside me somehow only he’d been able to find.

  It was amazing and intense, and as he continued pushing his hips up, while pressing me down against him, my climax pulled me over the edge. I squeezed my eyes closed, felt my entire body begin to tremble as bright white lights flashed behind my closed lids.

  “Tyson!” I cried out.

  He did his thrust, press, and roll maneuver again, and pushed inside me again while pressing his forehead into the crook of my shoulder. “Fuck,” he groaned out as he sheathed himself to the hilt inside me. I was breathless and speechless. My heart pounded against my chest and I felt his heartbeat match mine.

  My fingertips grazed his back, lightly running up and down his spine while we both groaned out the end of our pleasure and gave ourselves a few minutes to calm down.

  “I want you to move in with me,” Tyson said, pressing his lips to the column of my throat. Despite the two orgasms I already had, that one spot where he kissed me still made goosebumps erupt on my heated skin.

  “What?” I asked, and blinked rapidly.

  He pulled back, braced himself above me with his arms straight, hands at the side of my head.

  “Do you love me?” he asked, and his eyes roamed my face.

  I smiled. “Of course I love you.”

  “Then move in with me.”

  I thought about it for about five seconds before I realized the only con was that we’d really only been together a month.

  Then I realized that con didn’t matter to me.

  “Okay.”

  His eyebrows jumped. “You’re agreeing that easily?”

  I tilted my head and smirked. “Do you love me?”

  His lips twisted. “Of course I love you, you know that.”

  I grinned. “Then why would I say no?”

  He laughed softly, leaned down, and brushed his lips against mine. My body did that full body quiver it always did when he kissed me back to my ear, and then I gasped when he whispered, “Someday, I’m going to give you a new last name. And it all starts with you moving in with me.”

  I swallowed, shocked, but not shocked. I knew a month ago…I knew the day I saw Tyson on the plane to Denver and after that first night we had dinner together that if we ever did get back together, what he was implying was exactly where I wanted us to end up.

  I pressed my hands into his short black hair and tugged him off me, smiling. Then I winked. “Someday, I’m going to let you.”

  “I love you, Gabriella Bluejay,” he whispered when he saw that I was serious, and that I not only meant it, but I wanted it.

  I let all that play out on my face and licked my lips.

  “I’ve never loved another besides you, Tyson. Can’t imagine why I’d ever want to love another.”

  His feigned a scowl, slowly slid out of me, and stood. Then he held out his hand and smiled. “Come on. We need to get to Chelsea’s before she wonders where we went.”

  I was learning that having a group of girlfriends meant that there was nothing sacred in regards to relationships. We shared, and we shared frequently about how good our men were in and out of bed.

  I had no doubt Chelsea knew exactly where I was and why we were late.

  Still, I didn’t care.

  I let Tyson pull me out of bed before I rolled to my toes and kissed his lips.

  I had a life to begin living and enjoying and I didn’t want to miss a minute more.

  To Aaron

  You’re the jelly to my peanut butter.

  Thank you for supporting and encouraging me.

  Love you more.

  Acknowledgments

  While you can often find me sitting on my couch, willing words to come to life while I write books, I am never fully alone. I’m so fortunate to have a great team of people who work with me and support me every single day.

  Thank you to all the authors I’ve met and groups I’ve been a part of for the last several years. I couldn’t survive without the encouragement and friendships I’ve made with the ladies in my CP group.

  To the women in FTN, you all make me laugh every single day! Thanks for being a bright spot in my day and for aiding in my procrastination when the words simply aren’t flowing.

  Shannon, I’ve said it before and I’ll probably say it again: I couldn’t survive without you. You’re the best PA a writer could ask for and I dearly love our friendship. Thank you for always taking the time to read my books and tear them apart, thus making them better for everyone who comes after you.

  Michelle, thanks for taking a chance on me! You’re an incredible agent. I’m so thankful for all of your support and the help you’re always willing to provide.

  Sue, thank you, too, for taking a chance on me and loving my books. I’m so honored to be a part of th
e Loveswept family.

  To all the readers and bloggers who have read, enjoyed, reviewed, and shared my books and teasers…you all are the best. The absolute best. I couldn’t do what I love without all of you helping to spread the word.

  To my family, I love you. There’s nothing you could ever say or do that would ever make me stop loving you.

  Finally, to Him who sits on the throne. All glory and honor is Yours. Thank you for loving a mess like me.

  BY STACEY LYNN

  Fireside

  His to Love

  His to Protect

  Nordic Lords MC

  Point of Return

  Point of Redemption

  Point of Freedom

  Point of Surrender

  Just One Song

  Just One Song

  Just One Week

  Just One Regret

  Just One Moment

  Standalones

  Remembering Us

  Don’t Lie to Me

  Try Me (A Don’t Lie to Me Novella)

  PHOTO: © MAE I DESIGN AND PHOTOGRAPHY

  STACEY LYNN is a simple girl raised in the Midwest. Over the long, frigid winters, she would read every book she could get her hands on, from John Grisham and Danielle Steel to Ann M. Martin and C. S. Lewis. She began writing poems and short stories long before she reached high school, and now, as a wife and mother to four children, she finds solace from the craziness of her life by creating steamy, sexy stories. After publishing her first book, what began as a hobby has now turned into an unending passion.

  staceylynnbooks.com

  Facebook.com/staceylynnbooks

  @staceylynnbooks

  The Editor’s Corner

  Swing into spring this May with Loveswept! We’ve got something for everyone, so take your pick from these fabulous romance books.

  Tracy March brings you another enchanting novel set in Colorado, with book two in her Thistle Bend series, Just Say Maybe. Brenda Rothert releases her first Loveswept book, Blown Away, a sensual, emotionally charged novel of love and loss in which a tender affair gives two daring storm chasers the strength to overcome shattered dreams and the courage to build a future together. Then we go from extreme weather to the world of extreme sports with Zoe Dawson’s pulse-pounding Mavrick Allstars series debut, the steamy Ramping Up. Bestselling author HelenKay Dimon makes her Loveswept debut with Mr. and Mr. Smith. Moving on from the suspenseful to the sensual is a novel of pleasure and persuasion revolving around a high-stakes business deal in which the rules of negotiation are defined by desire in Shawntelle Madison’s Bound to You. New York Times bestselling author Noelle Adams introduces a notorious tech mogul who makes a mild-mannered woman an offer she can’t refuse and gets in return a battle for control—and a million-dollar affair—in Fooling Around. The Hunt Club continues with Pamela Labud’s A Most Delicate Pursuit. New York Times bestselling author Erin McCarthy follows Nashville’s hottest country music duo as they fight for love in a city where dreams often cost a broken heart in Heart Breaker. And New York Times bestselling author Sawyer Bennett proves that vengeance is sweet—but seduction is to die for—in Sugar Daddy.

  Wait—there’s more! Gina Gordon’s White Lace series continues in book two with lots of sizzle and heat in Reason to Believe. A. M. Madden continues the True Heroes series—hot hero alert!—with Glass Ceilings. Two tortured souls share an unbreakable bond even as they break taboos, as Laura Marie Altom does it again with a fabulous stepbrother romance in Stepping Over the Line. Back in the sporting world, Stacked Up continues the Worth the Fight series from USA Today bestselling author Sidney Halston. And Interference continues the Pilots Hockey series from Sophia Henry, where a young single mom falls for a damaged coach pulling double-duty as a cop.

  It’s a great month for relationships, so follow us on Facebook and Twitter and let the romance begin!

  Until next month ~Happy Romance!

  Gina Wachtel

  Associate Publisher

  Read on for an excerpt from

  His to Protect

  A Fireside Novel

  by Stacey Lynn

  Available from Loveswept

  Chapter 2

  I walked away from the woman—Trina—before I did something asinine like demand she tell me who gave her the fading bruise on her cheek. I noticed it as soon as she stepped into the lit doorway of the restaurant and felt the overwhelming urge to pummel someone.

  Figuring she wouldn’t like seeing my hands balled into fists, it took every ounce of self-control I possessed to tamp down that anger and scan the rest of her body.

  When I did, I noticed several things, all at once.

  She wasn’t homeless. My ex-wife Mara spent enough hours at the salon getting her hair and nails done, and then bitching about roots showing and chipped polish, for me to instantly see that this woman lived a lifestyle that Mara craved. This woman’s clothes were high-end. No cheap pair of jeans could hug a woman’s hips and thighs, and most likely her ass, as well as the ones this woman wore.

  A flash of her throwing her hand up in front of her face when I went to stop her from running pierced my mind and I fought the urge to growl.

  No, she wasn’t homeless, like I had originally assumed when I saw her crouched over a bag of ripped up garbage and handing food from it to her dog.

  She was hiding.

  Running.

  And for some damn reason, I had the overwhelming instinct to take care of her.

  For one meal, I reminded myself.

  I had enough shit going on in my life that I didn’t need this additional cause to take on. Saving my restaurant was my priority; it hadn’t had a profitable month all year. And while the fall and football season generally meant more business, I still had more problems than solutions. I didn’t need any more.

  “You decide what you want?” I asked, turning on the grill on the cooktop. Focus. I needed to focus. Feed her, get her out of here, and go home to a stiff drink so I could wash away the memory of what I thought when I first saw her.

  Protect her.

  When she didn’t answer, I twisted my neck to see her hovering by the walkway. She could keep an eye on the door to the alley and her dog, as well as me at the same time.

  I didn’t blame her for being scared of me. Women either wanted to fuck me or skip to the other side of the street when they saw me coming. I couldn’t help it. I’d been addicted to sports since I could walk and throw a football. Four years of college football only increased my love for being in shape. The few minor body building competitions I did after college cemented it. Lifting weights and working out relieved my stress. I carried enough on my shoulders on a daily basis that lifting was no longer a hobby, but an obsession.

  “I can get you a menu,” I told Trina when she didn’t answer me but instead sucked her lips between her teeth.

  “Salad,” she muttered and blinked. “No, wait…” I tried to keep my expression blank while she chewed on that damn lip. Not because it was sexy, but because between the lip biting and fidgeting she was doing with her hands, I could tell she was still nervous. Over a damn meal?

  With a nod, she looked at me, meeting my gaze for the first time. “I want a burger. With cheese. Two slices…oh.” Her face lit up, her smile wide.

  I felt like I’d just been punched in the gut.

  “And with fried onions.”

  “Onions?”

  Her head snapped back at my question and that lip found its way between her teeth again before she looked away. “I mean, if that’s okay. Or if it’s too much work, I’ll just take the salad.”

  Her shoulders slumped as she turned back toward the dog. Somehow, I got the feeling that decision was about way more than food.

  I watched her as she shifted on her feet, eyes focused on the door like she was ready to make a run for it, but then her fingers brushed against the yellowish bruise on her cheekbone.

  Something inside me ignited. Like a match struck and thrown on a fire.

  “Tri
na,” I snapped and then inhaled a breath, blowing it out slowly as she turned my way.

  “I’ll cook you whatever you want,” I said, trying to soften my deep voice even though inside I felt like boiling over. It was a damn burger. This stranger shouldn’t ignite something like this inside me. But damn it. She’d been beaten, that much was obvious.

  And I was beginning to think she’d taken more than a physical beating if her fidgeting and uncertainty was any indication.

  I quickly walked away from the stovetop, hoping like hell she’d stay where she was when I moved toward the office. I grabbed a spare barstool and carried it back, setting it down close to her but trying to respect her personal space.

  She jumped as the wood scraped on the cement floor and her hand fell from her curly blonde hair. Not platinum blonde and super fake like Mara’s was. Trina’s was darker, but with streaks of light that told me she doesn’t just get her hair highlighted…she spends a large amount of money on it.

  My fascination with her was piqued.

  “Have a seat,” I said, keeping my voice soft. “If you want a salad I can make that, too. But if you want a burger with extra cheese and onions, it’s honestly no big deal. Told you I’d cook you a meal, and if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get.”

  My eyes dropped to her throat as she swallowed, and then my gaze zeroed in on one small mole she had right at that tender, fleshy area at the base of her throat. I pulled my gaze away from where I could see her pulse thumping.

  “That’s very kind of you.” Her voice was raspy, still quiet. All her earlier confidence had dissipated into the air and damn it, for some reason, I wanted her to get that back.

  I slid a menu onto the countertop near her before I walked to the refrigerator and took out everything for the burger she first requested. While I was inside, I also grabbed a handful of salad fixings, because hell…maybe she really liked salads, too. Although I doubted it. Something told me she lived on vegetation because she thought she had to. While she was tall and thin, she didn’t need to diet.