Rebecca's Awakening Complete Love Story and Book Series

by J. H. York

  She was wearing the same clothes that she’d been wearing the week before. She had no others, and it embarrassed her. A man like him would surely have noticed. He sat next to her on the sofa that day, and she could smell his scent, the fragrance of a men’s cologne underlined by that special body musk unique to him. She could see the blue-black shadow of stubble on his jaw and skin, and suddenly she was sitting in her own puddle. Just looking at him made her flood with desire.

  “Have you remembered anything?” He asked, in his deep gravelly voice.

  The blue eyes had her mesmerized. She gazed into them for a moment before answering.

  “I had a dream,” she said, frowning.

  She was beginning to wring her hands together and when he put one of his on top of them to stop her. She jumped. He tried to draw back but she held on. It was a big hand, lean and strong. He could caress her to ecstasy with those hands; she just knew it. She began to describe the dream and he listened silently.

  When she’d finished he sat back and gently disengaged his hand, then scribbled something on a notepad.

  “Anything else? Feelings? Impressions?”

  “Feelings. I saw some guys playing cards in the park last week and I almost remembered something, but it went before I could catch it.”

  “How did it make you feel?”

  "Scared," she admitted, "I knew it had something to do with the dream.”

  He sat back and thought for a minute. She watched him.

  “You look tired,” she observed, then put a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be personal.”

  He smiled.

  “Don’t worry,” he replied, “I am. It’s been a long week.”

  “Maybe I should go.” She half stood up but he put a hand on her forearm and stopped her.

  “Don’t go,” he said huskily. “Your – your time’s not up yet.” He stuttered slightly.

  Reacting to his own emotions, he stood up abruptly. “Can we try hypnosis?”

  She looked at him doubtfully. “You won’t make me do chicken impersonations?” She asked, laughing.

  He laughed too.

  “I can’t make you do a thing you don’t want to do,” he replied. “Hypnosis is a natural state, it’s just an extra-focused state of consciousness. You will remain in control.”

  She nodded. “OK. Let’s do it. Anything’s better than this – nothingness.”

  As she lay back on the couch Olivia was aware of how vulnerable she was, but she wasn’t afraid. There was something very gentle about Nick but in spite of his very masculine appearance she knew that something or someone had hurt him badly.

  “I’m going to describe something to you. You’re in a wood, walking on a quiet path. All around you are trees and flowers. Breathe in and inhale the scent of the flowers you see. Breathe out and leaves drift down from the trees. As you sit down on the mossy bank, you feel very relaxed. A pleasant, drowsy feeling comes over you. You’re sleepy. You can’t lift your arms and your eyelids are heavy. Breathe in the scent of flowers. Breathe out butterflies. In, out, in out. You’re so sleepy...” His voice is deep and gentle.

  Olivia falls into a hypnotic sleep.

  When she wakes, it feels like time stood still. Had it passed at all? It didn’t seem so.

  "Well done," he smiled at her. "Your name is Becky, and you're twenty-six years old. You told me that your parents were drug addicts and you all lived on the streets for a while. Afterwards I encountered a block in your mind, something you’re not ready to discuss or think about. But you’ve done well for today. How do you feel?”

  “I feel – I feel wonderful!” She laughed and stretched out her arms, straining her t-shirt over her breasts.

  He tried not to look at her, tried to will away the erection that just would not go away. Then he did something unforgivable. He leaned over and kissed her, pulling her across the sofa so that their thighs were touching. His lips were firm, and as he passed his tongue round the inside of her lips she wished the moment would go on forever, but it ended, and they gazed at each other, both of them breathless.

  “I’m so sorry,’’ he pushed a hand through his hair in a distracted gesture. “Please forgive me. Would you like me to refer you to another therapist?”

  “No,” she replied softly. She cupped his cheek with her hand and smiled at him. “Definitely not.”

  He stood up.

  “We’ll have to stop here,” he looked down at her, but he was frowning.

  Something in his eyes told her he was reliving something unpleasant, but she was the patient, not the therapist, so she said nothing and tried to calm down.

  “I’m sorry too,” she whispered. "This isn't helping, is it?"

  He shook his head, and then abruptly became business-like. She could have cried at his rejection.

  “I have something to show you.” His eyes couldn’t stop starring at her.

  She almost threw herself at him again. His eyes...they simply held her breath.

  Nick grabbed his car keys from his desk and pointed to the door. Olivia nodded and followed him with intrigue and curiosity.

  Nick approached a red Chevy pickup truck. It was a 1972 vintage vehicle that fitted him like a glove, Olivia thought. Big macho car, big macho man... Yet, there was a gentle vulnerability about Nick that was at odds with his stature. Nick opened the passenger door and Olivia stepped inside.

  Nick pulled up and stopped at a four-story apartment building.

  It wasn’t in the best neighborhood in town, but it wasn’t the worst either. Inside the place, there was a tiny one-bedroom with a toilet, shower, and a kitchen. It was furnished with plain, thrift store furniture, an old TV probably made in the 90’s, and a double bed covered with a bright patchwork comforter.

  “I’m sorry about the furniture,” he said, embarrassed. “I’ll replace it when I can.”

  “This is for me?” She asked incredulously. She looked right into his face, her eyes were filled with tears. "The rent-"

  “--is my business,” he replied firmly. “I bought this place as an investment last year. I was going to sell it again when the value went up, so you’re doing me a favor by looking after it in the meantime.” He smiled and handed her the keys. “I got you a job, working part-time in a friend’s bookstore. It’s only three days a week but it should cover your expenses for now.”

  3 CHAPTER THREE

  There was silence for a moment. They looked at each other across the room, and then in three strides he covered the distance between them, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hungrily. He swept her effortlessly up in his arms and laid her on the narrow double bed. He looked down at her with a question in his eyes, and she answered it with a smile.

  She lay passively while he stripped off her t-shirt and bra then cupped her breasts with their rosy nipples before bending down to suckle them. She unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled it off and ran her hands over the ridged muscles of his stomach. There was a sprinkling of dark hair on his chest. She unzipped his trousers, she could already feel his manhood growing hard. He wanted her. She was wet with desire, too. She could smell her own arousal and hoped that he could too. She pulled down his boxers then grasped his penis, and ran her thumb over its tip. He had already started to ooze a little semen. She licked it and took him inside her mouth. He groaned then pushed her head up and down while she sucked him. She was excited as she ran her hands over his rippling muscles. He pushed a finger inside her and she moaned with pleasure. She wanted him inside her. Releasing his penis, she guided him inside of herself. She was so wet, so welcoming to him. In minutes their desires overcame them and together they reached a most glorious climax. He tried to withdraw from her, but she restrained him, holding him inside by grasping him with her thighs and her heart.

  “Again” she whispered, looking into the dazzling eyes.

  “I can’t,” he laughed softly.

  “But you can,” she replied, and began to move her hips up and down. To his amaze
ment, he felt the climax building again, gentler this time but what a satisfaction he held within. She came quietly, moaning with pure pleasure and the delight of a caring they both now shared, one for the other.

  “I can’t believe what just happened,” he said in disbelief. Taking a small double-take in seeing Olivia’s face, he paused and motioned to her before asking gently, “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s my memory. I remembered something,” she said, starring up at the ceiling. “I was watching someone having sex. I was with a group of people who smoked some weed at a party.” Concern draws up her face with concern. “Nick – do you think I was a drug addict?”

  He laughed; righting himself but sweetly rested his lips on her hair.

  “If you are, then so am I along with many other recreational partiers. I believe there are many people who have smoked weed at one time or another.”

  She nestles her body into his, fitting into his every crevice. He sighs in return.

  “Listen, I can’t be your therapist now,” he whispers.

  “You can. You’ve already helped me,” she answers.

  “But we can’t keep our hands off each other.”

  “It’s helping,” she insisted. She smiles. “Isn’t it?”

  “It’s certainly helping me,” he laughed.

  She wanted to ask him why he sometimes looked so sad, but he stood up as if he was wrapping up this session of intimacy.

  “I don’t know what to do now,” he says, frowning, as he dressed hastily. “I have to think. I need to think clearly, so I need to do it away from you. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Olivia, but since I first met you I can’t think about anything else. I have to get my head straight. I’m sorry.” He gestured to turn away, but she stopped him.

  “Nick?” She stepped out of bed, naked and unashamed, right in front of him.

  He gazed at her greedily, “Thank you, for everything. I’ll see you next week.”

  He turned back and kissed her passionately, then rushed out the door as if the devil himself were chasing him. Olivia felt so happy inside despite his evident feelings of concern. She danced and sang around the apartment for ten minutes before she getting dressed. Hungry, she decided to check out the kitchen for any groceries. Finding a full refrigerator, she began searching inside of every cupboard. They had all been considerately filled with groceries, and underneath the 12 ounce ground coffee packet, she found an envelope that contained a thousand dollars. Reflectively she exhaled in confounded shock. A smile slowly spread across her face. She had to sit down. She found herself on the bed and cried hard with tears of pure joy and appreciation...

  Nick was absolutely floating on a cloud. He drove home on autopilot and could barely remember the journey when he got there. His hunger was ravenous. He cooked himself a massive steak and drank a celebratory beer. Energized, he walked inside the walls of his home gym. Thank the heavens, he didn’t have to drive to a gym and put on a face for a crowd. He could just get lost in his own thoughts and work out. He just couldn’t stop reliving his lovemaking with Olivia. Those firm breasts, the smell of her arousal, that moment when he slid into her. And he couldn’t believe two orgasms in one minute! How had he done that? How had she made him do that? He dropped to the floor mats. He rolled over on his back and began to masturbate again, but this time, it was even better since he didn't have to imagine what she might be like, anymore. When he climaxed he called out her name over and over again.

  Olivia lied in bed, alone for the first time in months. It felt odd, pleasant and unpleasant at the same time. Pleasant because there are no other patient roommates in her living space... Nor are there any other strange women around her. Her only regret in relishing in this new place is the lack of Nick being there to share her enormous sense of relief. No muscular stomach, no masculine musk, and no hard warmth. She began to stroke herself and imagine the moment when the hard shaft of his penis entered her and thrust into her again and again. When it came, her orgasm was titanic, and she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

  The next day she started her job in the bookshop. She loved the work. She realized that she was in her element. The staff was pleasant and made her feel welcome. She found a love in loving these books. Then it came… another memory.

  Find the continuation of Finding You Beneath…

  on Amazon by Jessica Hart. If you’re reading a digital file, like Kindle or an epub file, just click here …

  Did you love Finding You Beneath?

  Then you should read:

  Wounded Heart

  by Jessica Hart

  Once unmasked, can beauty love the beast…?

  Kayla Mistry’s new home is now a remote castle. And the man, Mr. Wadleigh, who owns her, she has never seen him.

  His face is hidden beneath a mask. She only knows fear of him at first, but his voice and his touch brings a secret desire to her surface. She is escorted to him each night to be ravished but he leaves her while she sleeps.

  There are dark secrets that she intends to uncover. He will do everything in his power to prevent her discovery of his truth.

  Will the beast survive the consequences of her desire?

  Note: This romance story is of more intensity and it explores a darker topic that may be unsettling for some readers, however it does conclude with a happily ever after in the end…

  The content is recommended for 18+ due to mature themes and sexual content.

  Wounded Heart

  JESSICA HART

  Copyright © 2016 Jessica Hart

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Heart2Heart Bookreads, 2016.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  WOUNDED HEART

  First edition. September 30, 2016.

  Copyright © 2016 Jessica Hart.

  Written by Jessica Hart

  Wounded Heart

  PART I

  “Each word leads us to an elsewhere.”

  PAUL ASTER

  0 PROLOGUE

  As beauty begins…

  Ayaan Mistry was a man who had truly carved out his own happiness. Like the lotus flower born within muddy waters, he was a soul hungry for light. And when light showed itself to him, he grabbed its rays like ropes and pulled himself out of the muck.

  Born in India under harsh conditions and living a life of impoverishment, he came to the United States to pursue a business and marketing degree. He then proceeded to amass a small fortune with his position as the top salesman of a rich company that sold costly and luxurious pashmina shawls and scarves.

  But the best part, the physician Crystal Shetland was his, the love of his life. And they had a beautiful daughter named Kayla.

  Kayla's mother had long blond hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. Consequently Kayla's features turned out to be lightly olive, maybe two shades lighter than her father's. She had wide blue eyes like her mother, and dark curling hair. She definitely looked exotic.

  Theirs was the happiest family for so long. Life was wonderful for them. Kayla's father's business continued to flourish, and Kayla's mother spent her free time away from the hospital doing the second thing she loved best in life after healing people, and that was helping the less fortunate to their feet. She belonged to many local charities and was renown in the county for her generous contributions and hands-on assistance.

  Then the U.S. banking system was hit hard as The Great Recession took hold in 2007. At the time Kayla was only nine years old. Her father lost his job in the pashmina business due to company-wide layoffs. After that, he just couldn’t seem to get back on his feet.

  That’s when Kayla's mother took over. Not in an angry or bitter way, no, she was happy and determined for their beloved family to keep flourishing. At first Kayla's father was so stubbornly proud and it was so difficult to watch his wife leave for work in the morning. He would just stand inside the doorframe and watch her car leave the driveway, and the look on
his face was utter shame and guilt, as if he had let his family down greatly, it was the type of shame in his heart that was equal to the societal stigma of Ayaan having even tried to murder his wife and daughter. For, in his eyes, in his culture, what he had let happen was equivalent to murder. He tended to believe in strict notions for male and female roles in society, and Kayla's mother and he could get in heated debates. But he always showed his beloved wife respect and demonstrated understanding for her viewpoints, even if he didn’t agree with them.

  And Kayla's mother, though she worked impossible hours, still found the time to donate herself to her precious causes.

  It had been maybe a week after Kayla's eighteenth birthday when her mother organized and funded a black-tie fundraiser whose purpose was to find and free those in child slavery. That very night Kayla was busy packing and preparing for the next day’s trip to what would be her new home, a dorm room at the University of Pennsylvania. Her dream was to study the stars. She was sifting through a pile of mismatched underwear when her mother came into her room.