by Ann, Pamela
“How many children did you guys plan to have?” Stella asked Sienna, piqued.
Before his wife had the chance to respond, Blake did it for her. “Five.”
“You two better get on that then.” I teased, but deep inside, I wanted to start my own.
The number didn’t really matter to me. I know Stella was young and she was busy with her business, so I hadn’t really sad anything because I didn’t want her to feel pressured. Maybe next year…
That’s how our Sunday went.
It was spent with a group of friends. Luciana and Mark later joined us. I must say that married life was suiting us both well.
I was deep in thought, driving us home in the motorway when I felt Stella hand reach out for me.
“What’s that smile for?”
I was smiling? I didn’t even notice. Taking hold of her hand, I kissed it again and placed it against my heart for a few seconds before placing it on thigh. “I was just thinking how much I love being married to you. I’m deliriously happy, wife.”
“That’s always good to know.” She glanced at me before looking out the window, then back at me again. “How do you feel about babies?”
Funny how our thoughts were in the same subject, I thought as I approached the subject that I had wanted to discuss with her. “Cute little monsters.”
She snorted, squeezing my hand tight. “They’re cute, aren’t they?” she murmured much to herself, before directing me the next question. “How do you feel about making one when we get home?”
Did I say how much I loved my wife? “Don’t joke about that if you aren’t serious, my love.” I darted her a quick glance.
We haven’t been on this particular subject really. I wanted Stella to be happy and as much as I wanted to start expanding our family, her needs came first.
This might sound odd for some, but I’d choose my wife over my children. Yes, I would love my offspring’s madly, but my wife is world. Without Stella, life would hold no meaning for me. Other parents, I knew chose their kids over their spouses…but for me, it was the other way around.
My wife is my other half. Take that piece away, then I would be half a soul.
I was hers—unequivocally, forever was too soon, loving her was my reason for breathing kind of being owned.
Stella shook her head. “I wouldn’t joke about such a subject, Cal. Not only do I want one, but I also want to feel your baby growing inside me. When I said I want your all, I meant the whole thing. If you’re not so confident about your baby making skills, I would understand.” She lightly teased, but knew she was undoubtedly serious about having a child.
Pressing the gas peddle on my sports car, I gave the love of my wife a heated-can’t-wait-to-get-you-writhing-underneath-me-gaze. “You better take the next few days off because you wouldn’t manage to walk, my dear wife. And as for my skills, they’re legendary.”
We didn’t say a word until we were united in bed. The thought of Stella baring my baby brought me to my knees.
No matter what happens in the future, my wife came first—forever and always. Her needs were my own. Her desires were mine to deliver. Her wishes were mine to achieve.
Stella was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. When I agreed to marry her when she was eighteen, I didn’t know then… but I just realized that she Richard’s last gift—he gifted us love, each other.
It was true what they say… that sometimes what you’ve been looking all along was right there in front of you. We get so blinded by so many things that we fail to see what was before our very eyes.
Never more, my heart vowed as I looked into her crystal gray eyes.
~ THE END ~
Turn the page to read a sneak preview of Mirage by Ashley Suzanne and It’s Him by Grace Villar!
Dimitris and Lindsey
Read their story in Lindsey’s book, Scorned (Torn Series #4)
Their second book, Unveiled (Torn Series #6) October 2013
Both were also featured in Frayed (Torn Series #2)
Formula Men Series
Coming 2014
Monza Luca di Medici
Nice Jacques Bertrand
Barcelona Andrès Franco
Sienna and Blake’s story
In The Chasing Series:
Chasing Beautiful
Chasing Imperfection
Chasing Paradise
To read more about Pamela Ann and her upcoming releases, follow her through Facebook, Twitter and her blog.
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Pamela-Ann-Author-Page/401789403246597
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https://twitter.com/PamelaAnnAuthor
Blog:
http://pamelaannbooks.blogspot.com/
More books by Pamela Ann
The Torn Series Order:
Scornfully Yours
Scornfully Hers
Frayed
Blasphemous
Undeniably Yours Coming Soon
Scorned
Fixated On You September 28
Unveiled October 31
Crushed January 2014
Lily’s Mistake
Loving Lily Coming Soon
Upcoming Stand-Alone Novels:
My Summer in Venice
Pieces of You & Me
Havoc (Dark Erotica)
Bartered (Dark Erotica)
More from The Chasing Series:
Chasing Forever (Lucy & Toby) Coming Soon
Chasing Memories (Kyle) Coming in 2014
Ashley Suzanne’s new novel Mirage
NOW AVAILABLE!
Prologue
The picture frames that once lined the table in the hallway are now scattered across the floor, in shambles, like the pieces of my heart. Anger and sadness flow through my veins as I look at the broken glass that reminds me of my shattered soul. I am sitting on the cool hardwood floor with my back to the couch and hands in my hair. Tears stream from my eyes and my chest heaves up and down, as I try to catch my breath. All I can do is think back to the best day of my life and try to figure out how it all went wrong.
“You’re it for me, Pea,” Danny said. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. We’re going to be so disgustingly happy, our friends are going to hate us,” he joked.
“Don’t I know it! I already see the girls making faces when we’re together. This is going to push them over the edge,” I teased. “Do you think we should make a group announcement? Head out on Saturday night, like usual, then BAM, look at my ring, we’re getting married.” I was already disgustingly happy and I couldn’t wait to tell everyone and show off my classic princess cut ¾ carat diamond on my left ring finger.
“We can do it however you want, Pea, as long as you promise me forever and always.” How could I not swoon when he said stuff like that?
“I’m yours as long as you will have me,” I said as I crashed into him, pulling him in for the most passionate kiss of my life. Even though I instigated the kiss, it wasn’t long until Danny took control, claiming my mouth for his own, just like he did my heart.
In that moment, I thought to myself, ‘I am hopelessly in love with this man. Please dear God, don’t break my heart.’
Five weeks later, the night of our college graduation, I am in my apartment with a few girlfriends, Kylee, Marisol and Lena, getting ready to hit the after party. Knowing Danny would be here soon, I decide to wear something that would tease him in just the right way. My Danny was a boob man, so I put on my black lace corset top, that was meant more for lingerie, but God I looked amazing in it. I paired the top with a pair of dark washed jeans and my favorite black peek toe pumps. I was ready to celebrate four years of study groups, aggravating professors, finals, midterms, and lack of sleep with my friends and my man. This is the beginning of the rest of my life …
Danny showed up a little after nine on his bike. “Hey Pea, are you ready to go,” he called from the hallway leading to my apartment.
“I am. I heard you pull
up. I guess since we’re on the bike, I’m not bringing a purse.”
“You know the rules, Pea. No purses or heels on the bike. Change your shoes please. You can put your heels in my backpack, if need be,” Danny said sternly.
I headed back into my room, I exchanged my pumps for a pair of black leather knee high boots that fit perfectly over my jeans. Looking at myself in the mirror, I was surprised. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier. This looks so much hotter. “Damn Mira,” I said to myself.
I grabbed a thin black hair tie from my dresser and used my fingers to brush back my long brown hair and placed it in a low ponytail. I am sure glad I decided to curl my hair tonight because the wind would have really messed up my hair and knotted it if I would have straightened it.
Giving myself one more glance in the floor length mirror on the back of my bedroom door, I walked out of my room, shutting the door behind me, “I’m coming.” I slipped on my leather riding jacket and left the apartment walking downstairs.
Danny was waiting for me on the front stoop of my apartment building. I don’t know if it was just an emotional day or what, but Danny looks somewhat more mature. He was wearing light faded jeans, an all black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his tattoo on his right forearm.
Last summer Danny and Skylar got matching tattoos. Danny’s right forearm displays, in old English lettering the word Smash and Skylar’s says Axe, in the same spot and lettering. Skylar’s uncle used to call them Smash and Axe while they were growing up. Boys will be boys. I think it’s silly, but these boys are two peas in a pod. I’m surprised I’m not dating both of them.
Kylee was just finishing putting her helmet on and climbing on to the back of Skylar’s bike when I reached where Danny’s bike was parked. Danny was riding his beloved GSX-R. Again, the boys have matching bikes. I swear, these two did everything together. The only difference in Danny and Skylar’s bikes was the color of the seats. Where Sky has purple, Danny has a dark midnight blue. Everything else was all black. I think the boys called it “murdered out” but I have no clue what that means. It’s just looks like flat black paint to me.
I pulled on my black with pink pinstriped helmet and jumped on the back of Danny’s bike. This was my favorite part. I can just lie on his back, rest my head on his shoulder and go along for the ride. No talking, no music, nothing but us and the road. Some girls get off on buying shoes, me, I get off on the sound of a bike. There is just something about the rumble of a bike that makes me want to flip around the front and madly kiss the man I’m so in love with.
Maybe it wasn’t all bikes. Maybe it was just Danny’s. I knew the sound. Even though it was the exact same as Skylar’s bike and many other bikes around this town, something about the sound of this bike screamed Danny and nobody else.
We left the parking lot and headed towards the highway. With my legs squeezing the life out of Danny’s legs and almost laying down on top of him, going fast. This is where I get my thrills in life and I’m so happy I get to do it with my future husband.
My future husband. Oh hell. In a few months, I’m going to be Mrs. Daniel Thomas. Mira Rae Thomas. That sounds like music to my ears.
I’m totally in my zone on this ride, I didn’t even notice when a car came swerving into our lane. Danny’s bike started to sway beneath my legs. I gripped his waist even tighter and tried to remember everything he ever told me. There is an art to being a passenger on a bike.
Don’t fight against me. Don’t lean into turns with me. Keep your body centered. Hold on tight. If we go down, try to stay on your back with your head raised. Try not to tumble.
Ok. Alright. Trying to keep my body centered, grip tight and not fighting against Danny, the bike continued to sway beneath me. Before I knew it, we were headed right towards the guard wall in the middle of the highway.
Panic set it. “Danny .. Danny .. What do I do?” I screamed and I knew he couldn’t hear me over the traffic and the roar of the bike.
We hit the wall. The sound was so loud; I felt it in my bones. The sound of metal slamming against concrete is a sound I will never forget. Nails on a chalkboard don’t even compare.
I flew off the bike. The pain of hitting the cement of the highway at over sixty miles per hour is excruciating. I felt my bones in my leg snap as I try to keep on my back without tumbling.
“Aaaaahhhhhhhhh,” I screamed out in pain. Every inch I slid down the highway until I hit my final resting place was terrifying. I had no idea what was going on around me.
My body finally won out against me and my head slammed against the hard cement and pain shot through my entire body.
I assume I blacked out. When I finally came to, I was in the back of an ambulance with medics looking over my body and starting an IV, their faces looked grim.
“Danny?” I asked, my voice coming out weak and barely there.
The blond medic just looked at me with blank eyes. He slightly shook his head.
“No,” I cried, “no, please no.”
My Danny didn’t survive. They said he had too much trauma and died on the scene. My body screamed in pain as I tried to get off the gurney and go to where ever Danny was. The other medic, who I don’t remember too well, grabbed my shoulders softly and pulled me back to stay on the gurney. The blond medic inserted a syringe of medication into my IV and within seconds, I felt my body go lifeless and relaxed.
In that moment, my world came to a screeching halt and that was it for me.
Skylar came to visit me in the hospital, for the two days I was admitted, while I was treated for my road rash and broken leg. Surprisingly, I didn’t have it too bad. Because my injuries were minimal, I was released on the second day, with crutches and a wheelchair that Skylar had “borrowed” from the hospital. I had a pretty bad bump on my head, some scrapes and bruises and a broken leg, but I was alive. Which was more than I could say for Danny…
Now here it is, five days after the accident and the day of Danny’s funeral. At the service, his mom asked me to sit with her. She told me that I was practically family anyway, being engaged to Danny and all. It did feel a little weird not sitting with my friends and parents, but it was nice to be able to sit with Mrs. Thomas, who looks so much like Danny it’s scary.
Immediately following the burial, we all went back to Danny’s mother’s house. People were coming and going. Friends, relatives, faculty from the school, members of the community.
I don’t remember eating much today, or any day since Danny died, for that matter. I can hear my stomach growling. I know it needs some sort of sustenance, if I am going to take the pain medication the doctor prescribed, but the thought of consuming anything, makes me ill.
“Mira, honey, you have to at least eat something. Trust me, I know how hard this is, but you have to take care of yourself,” Danny’s mom pleaded with me.
“Mrs. Thomas, I promise I will eat something later. I just can’t right now,” I responded back emotionless, not even making eye contact with the woman.
Everything seemed to pass by in such a blur, I didn’t even realize that I was being wheeled out the door with Kylee on my side and Skylar pushing the wheelchair.
“Where are we going?” I asked them.
“We’re taking you home, Mi. You have had enough for one day. You need a shower and some sleep,” Skylar said.
“And something to eat,” Kylee chimed in.
When we got into mine and Kylee’s apartment, I immediately saw the long thin table by the front door lined with pictures of my past. Some of the happiest days of my life, captured forever. I will be forever haunted by these images in my memory, let alone to look at them every day.
“This isn’t fair. Why did you leave me?” I yelled as I swiped my arm across the table, knocking everything onto the floor, shattering the glass in the frames.
“Come on, Mira, let’s get you in the shower,” Kylee said. I saw the pity in her eyes and Skylar just looked at the floor, not making ey
e contact with either of us.
“I’m sorry guys. Today was just an emotional day,” I said apologetically.
“Mi, we all miss him. Just take care and call me if you need anything Kylee,” Skylar said as he walked out and closed the door behind him.
“I’ll clean up this mess, hun. Just go,” Kylee said to me as I got out of the wheelchair, carefully sitting on the floor and tried to pick up the pictures around the glass.
Kylee grabbed a shoe box that wasn’t taken out in the trash and started putting my memories away. “I’ll just put them all in here, for safe keeping, until we can buy new frames,” she told me as I used the crutches to maneuver into my bedroom.
It’s Him
By
Grace Villar
Chapter One
Georgina Wallace
This is it! I am finally going to London! When I next set foot in LA, it'll be with a British accent and an MFA in scriptwriting. —at LAX
@ginawallace
London bound! #London #lovingLondon #iloveLondon
Georgina64 listened to
London Calling—The Clash
My new apartment was a university accommodation in the area made famous by Sherlock Holmes, just a few steps from Baker Street Station. Even more exciting than that, I was going to be living close to the gorgeous Regent's Park and just a stone's throw from the southern end of Edgware Road, renowned for its unique Middle-Eastern atmosphere. The flat, as the Brits call them, was also walking distance from Oxford Street, where the lights during the holiday season are to die for. Or at least that's what the guidebooks said. I read half a dozen of them on the 10-hour flight.