by Remy Blake
Table of Contents
Prologue
Lucy
Magnus
Epilogue
About the Author
Afterword
CLIPPED
Avery
Wes
Acknowledgments
TIMBER
Remy Blake
Copyright © 2017 Remy Blake
All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This novel is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to people either living or deceased, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are only used for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.
Cover design by PopKitty Designs
Proofreading by Hawkeyes Proofing
This book contains mature content.
Contents
Prologue
1. Lucy
2. Magnus
3. Lucy
4. Magnus
5. Lucy
6. Magnus
7. Lucy
8. Magnus
9. Lucy
10. Magnus
11. Lucy
12. Magnus
13. Lucy
14. Magnus
15. Lucy
16. Magnus
17. Lucy
18. Magnus
19. Lucy
Epilogue
About the Author
Afterword
CLIPPED
Avery
Wes
Acknowledgments
LUCY
Six Years Ago
Impatiently I sit on the edge of the park bench waiting for David to make an appearance. It isn’t unusual for him to be late, it’s even a possibility he won’t show up at all. David and I have been in a relationship for two years, but the last six months have been rough.
Getting together our senior year of high school, it was your typical friends to lovers scenario. We hung out in the same crowd, we had the same classes and went to all the same parties. I thought we’d be together forever.
I always knew David wanted to go to college, and while I hadn’t made my mind up yet, I ignorantly waved him off to the city thinking everything would be okay. Boy was I wrong.
This year was hard, and the last three months even worse. David became douchebag David, he would come down to Piney View once a month if that, and most of his time involved hanging out with the guys. If we saw one another, it was all about the sex and he couldn’t make the effort for me outside of that. The boy I knew was turning into a man I wanted nothing to do with.
I had planned to put my big girl panties on and call it quits, but instead I’m sitting here, waiting to tell him news that will change our lives forever. Praying somehow we can work this out together.
I hear the rustle of autumn leaves under his feet before I see him, and wait till the very last minute to look up. Inhaling the cold, brisk air, I notice a very irritated looking David staring in my direction.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.“I thought we weren’t meeting till tomorrow? I’ve got to get to Wes’ house to watch the game with the boys.”
“Of course, wouldn’t want to keep you,” I say dryly. He raises his eyebrows expectantly and I internally chastise myself for rising to the bait so quickly. Closing my eyes I count to ten and give myself the pep talk I need to get through this. There’s no point in delaying this any longer.
“Dave.” Hoping the use of his nickname will remind him of the happier times we shared. I wait for his concern to kick in, and a slight chuckle slips out of my mouth when I realize it’s not going to happen. “I’m pregnant,” I blurt out.
“Wait, what?” He runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends lightly. His body reacts to my words, like a kick to the stomach he bends at the waist. His breath loud and heavy. “Is it mine?”
Thinking there’s no way I heard right, I wait for him to stand up and look at me.
“Is it mine?” He repeats, glaring at me. God I want to kick him in the balls right now.
I do nothing to disguise my disgust at his accusation. “What do you mean is it yours? How many people do you think I’ve slept with?”
Finding the long plank of wood, David sits down and eventually manages to look me in the eyes. “Are you going to keep it?”
My heart stops. This isn’t how I wanted him to react. I’m being foolish, I know, but part of me desperately wanted him to be excited, for this to be the missing part of our puzzle. The other anticipated the shock, the lack of support and the denial, but what David doesn’t realize is not having this baby isn’t an option. It’s not how I was raised and it’s not something I feel comfortable with. Would I love his input? Yes. Do I need it? Hell fucking no.
“Yeah, Dave. I’m keeping it.” The silence stretches between us as he looks everywhere but me. “Is that okay? I mean, are you going to do this with me?” I hate the vulnerability in my voice, he doesn’t deserve that from me.
He rises and strides toward me till we’re toe to toe. “Luce.., I met someone.”
“Sorry?” I question. “I thought I just heard you say you met someone, when I’m pretty sure we’re still together.”
Lowering his face, he at least has the decency to look slightly ashamed. “I met her at college. And it just happened, you know?” he explains.
“No. No, I don’t fucking know. This is why you barely visit? Why you can barely stomach to make an effort?” The realization of exactly what’s happened between us crushes me. I step backwards as I stare at my biggest regret. Never once did I think he was cheating on me. I shake my head, as the tears drip down my face, “You couldn’t break up with me? Instead you just strung me along. And you had sex with both of us?” My questions turn into accusations and the frantic beating of my heart, has me struggling to breathe.
“Lucy. Lucy,” he shouts louder. “Breathe, baby. Breathe.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I seethe. I wipe the tears off my face and straighten my back. His eyes meet mine, regret warring with hurt and I know with all my heart this is the last time I’ll ever see David again.
“I just don’t see myself being a dad yet,” he admits.
As defeat begins to wrap itself around me, I know I need to end this conversation and go home. “David, I don’t ever want to see you again.” Folding my arms across my chest, I lay down the rules, loud, clear, and non-negotiable. “My baby will want for nothing; no thanks to you.”
“I’m sorry, Luce.” His voice is full of guilt.
“It’s Lucy to you and sorry isn’t going to cut it. You made your choice. Don’t think for one second I’m going to absolve you of your guilt.” Leaving him behind, I walk away from the boy that broke my heart, the way only your first love can. Looking over my shoulder, I threaten him with everything I have. “And if you think for one second you’ll ever be able to waltz back into town interested in my baby. You’ve got another thing coming.”
1
Lucy
Curled up on the couch, with my legs comfortably folded beneath me, I slowly sip on my overfilled glass of wine and try to quash the thoughts running through my mind. Silence is all I wan
t, just some time to stop, breathe and catch up.
It’s been a long week. Scratch that, try a long year. I don’t usually like to beat myself down with how hard life can be, because I’ve had some rock bottom moments and I’m responsible for a lot of them. You live and you learn, right? But now with everything going on, it’s endless days of too much, too fast. My to-do lists are a mile long and the expectations I have placed on myself are proving to be extremely unrealistic.
I’ve never regretted my decision to have a baby so young, or choosing to do it on my own; in fact the way I feel doesn’t have much to do with being a single mother, but rather it being the only thing I know how to be. I went from being a daughter and an older sister, to a girlfriend, and then a mother. Being Jeremiah’s mom is where it stopped. Where is Lucy?
The minute I found out I was pregnant, I knew this would be my future, and I chose it. With a smile on my face and a little bit of hurt in my heart, I decided I would have, hold and love this baby, no matter what his douchebag sperm donor decided to do. I had a kick ass mom, who showered me with enough love all by herself when I was growing up, I just knew I could do that for my baby too. And all this seemed to be enough; until now.
They say when you juggle too many balls, one of them is bound to drop. And when one falls, everything else follows. The night I found my mom unconscious on the floor, after suffering a stroke was the first ball to drop. She’s my rock and my right hand. She’s the woman I’ve learned so much from and still have so much to learn from. Seeing her lying there, helpless and so close to death changed everything. It not only gave me perspective, but it brought to surface doubts, worries, and insecurities I convinced myself were non-existent.
The second ball to drop was my carefully constructed routine with Jeremiah. With school and work everyday our nights are planned down to the second. Or they used to be. Now we’re running around like headless chickens trying to juggle mom’s rehab in between everyday life. And Jeremiah is suffering. It’s not too obvious, and others would tell me I’m over reacting, but I feel it in my gut. Change is hard for anyone, especially a five year old boy.
On the upside my sister Avery has come home. Even though mom’s stroke is the only reason she came back, I can’t deny how much I’ve missed having my baby sister around. Even if she is unknowingly adding to my stress levels.
Avery moved to California straight after school, desperate to get out of Piney View. Now she’s back, she’s caught the attention of one of my only close friends, Wesley Steele. And he has no plans to let her go.
Wes, Avery, the sperm donor who shall not be named and I all went to school together. And while everybody’s lives went a different route, Wes and I built our own future here. He’s a successful business owner with a heart of gold.
Their dramatic game of cat and mouse has been fun to watch, but after my weeks of introspective thinking, I’ve realized how monotonous and dull my life has become. I live on my own, but my life is entwined with my mother’s and everything I do for fun involves games with my kid. I don’t know how to relax, and can’t remember the last time I got dressed up, put makeup on and went out. And on nights like this where I sit at home alone, I miss sex.
Not the feelings, not the talking and not necessarily the connection with another person. I just miss having a moment when your mind switches off and your body takes control.
Standing, I finish the last mouthful of my drink and drop the glass into the sink on my way to bed. After brushing my teeth and changing into my pajamas, I climb under the blanket, and tap on the Tumblr app on my phone.
My fingers eagerly slide beneath the waistband of my boyshorts with purpose, slowly rubbing circles around my clit. My other hand scrolls through the constant reel of bodies thrusting against one another, each visual setting my imagination into a frenzy. I stop when I see a beast of a man, fucking a petite little thing into oblivion. He’s pressed her up against a wall, his head buried in her neck while she clings to him like a vine around a tree. Her head is thrown back, her eyelids fluttering, and her mouth forming the perfect “o” every time he hits the spot. Her face is the personification of the word orgasm.
I throw my phone to the side, lift my tank top up and close my eyes. Tweaking and pinching my nipple, I fantasize about what it would be like to have someone fuck me like that; with such ferocity and abandon. My lower body tightens and my toes curl in anticipation as I visualize every thrust. Conjuring up images of a thick cock pushing inside me; deep and hard. My hips rock as my slick fingers move faster. I’m desperate for this release, in need of something to rid my body of the built up tension, and give me a small window of exhilaration.
I bite my bottom lip as my limbs weaken. A rush runs through me and all the blood in my body pulsates at the tips of my fingers. I tremble with ecstasy, just in time to hear the click of a door open and the pitter patter of small feet getting closer.
“Mommy.”
Fuck.
2
Magnus
“One more just like that,” the photographer directs, clicking the shutter rapidfire. “Okay, great. Now, Talia, slide on over and put your hand on his chest.”
Just fucking fantastic.
I’m not sure what this picture has to do with promoting a protein shake, but what do I know? I’m just the brawny body they need for this shoot and the face the sponsors chose to represent their product. And with the ridiculous amount of money they pay me to do this, I can hardly complain.
Talia, the model, is an ex-girlfriend of mine. Although we ended two years ago with an ugly and messy breakup, she continues to be excessively attentive every time we have to work together. Lingering touches, and blatant flirting are never in short supply even though I’ve never once gone back for a repeat and I never will. I’m not sure why she hasn’t given up by now. She’s persistent; I’ll give her that.
Talia presses her large tits into my arm and lightly scratches my chest with her disturbingly long, blood red fingernails. Her touch does nothing except remind me of my own idiocy. I let myself be sucked in by her outer beauty and quickly fell for her sweet and innocent act. Boy was I surprised when I caught her in our bed with another fitness model. I kicked them both from my house butt naked and threw their clothes out the door behind them. He’s lucky I didn’t kick his ass.
All her possessions were packed up, the boxes stacked neatly in the driveway by the end of that same day and I’ve never had a conversation with her again by choice. Even now, when I’m forced to work with Talia, I limit my answers to one word and keep things purely professional. I’m not about to get sucked in for a second time by her deceptively sweet nature.
Now, I’m careful to avoid becoming involved with any women at all. Talia broke my heart and damaged my ego. I’m not willing to give anyone else the opportunity to get close enough to do the same.
“Okay, it’s a wrap. Great job, Magnus,” the photographer steps forward to shake my hand. “Always a pleasure working with you.” His grip is firm.
“Yeah, you too, thanks.” I keep my reply brief as usual. I’m a man of few words and the few I share have a purpose. I don’t believe in talking for the sake of filling up empty space or listening to my own voice. Being around people I’m not familiar with makes me anxious. As a young kid, I struggled with anxiety so much I developed a stutter. The more flustered I got the more pronounced it would be. Which meant being teased by the other kids and the taunting had me stumbling over words even more so. It was a vicious cycle and made me hate going to school. I avoided speaking in all situations unless I had to. My social life suffered as a result and in high school I began going to the gym to make up for my lack of close friends.
With time, I’ve learned to control the stutter and do better in social situations, but I still don’t enjoy them. I’d rather be at home with Sybil, my temperamental cat. At least I know where I stand with her. She doesn’t pretend to be something she’s not.
Speedily moving toward the door of the studio, I don’
t dare linger around in case Talia chases after me. Once I’m out in the brightly lit hallway, I meet up with my personal assistant, Cameron, as he walks in my direction.
“There you are,” he waves his hand, dramatically. “We need to hustle and bustle right now, Mags.”
I don’t reply, I just trek toward the front door as Cam hands off the black backpack he has slung over his shoulder.
“Thank you,” I reply politely, as we step outside into the high early summer temperatures. The humidity in the air hits my face full force like I’ve walked into a brick wall of wet, heat. Drawing breath into my lungs is difficult and I’m tempted to head back into the air conditioned studio.
“We have to head over to the Book Bin so you can sign some calendars and then we have to stop at The Men’s Mane to get your haircut,” Cam informs me as we make our way to my coal black Hummer.
“I don’t need a haircut,” I inform him, clicking the keybox and unlocking the doors. Sliding inside, I place the key in the ignition and start my girl up. This beauty is my baby. She’s good to me and vice versa. The rumbling purr of her engine as I pull onto the street and give her some gas pleases me.
“It’s a promotional event. You’re getting paid one thousand dollars to have your haircut and your beard trimmed at this salon and be filmed while doing it. They’re also gifting you a year’s worth of free shampoo, conditioner and beard oil.”