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Twisted Christmas

Page 37

by Sara Cate


  I mean, are there other girls like me out there who are sleeping and are in love with their ex’s father or am I the twisted, odd one out? If so, I don’t think I mind.

  Being loved by James is teaching me a lot and one of them is, it’s perfectly all right to be different. He allows me to cry for my parents and the lie that has been hanging over my life, but soon, the shock wears off and the hurt subsides. Harold & Vanessa Lloyd may not have been my biological parents, but they did love and care for me.

  As for Val, well, I haven’t heard from her since she stormed out but I can’t help but be a bit worried.

  I stare at the flames in the fireplace, snuggled in my fleece blanket on the couch. James and I are still at the carbon, it’s been hard to leave such a beautiful place. Honestly, I don’t think I can stomach going back to my busy but fruitless life.

  I didn’t want to come to Colorado for the holidays, but from the moment I saw James in the pub, sharing that incredible night with him then him showing me what love really feels like, I can’t help but be grateful.

  He’s made me feel desired, wanted and valued and no one has ever made me want someone else the way he does.

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  His deep, baritone voice is the sound of gods! I love the way I seem to come alive when he speaks.

  “A penny?” I scoff kiddingly. “I didn’t know you were this cheap.”

  “That’s how rich men stay rich,” he laughs, the sound carrying into my soul like a melody from Heaven. He drops down on the couch, looks at the distance between us, frowns, then he wraps an arm around my waist and practically lifts-pulls me closer to him until I’m in his lap. He lifts my chin with his fingers, then he pauses, staring down at me.

  “She’s in New York right now,” he says.

  “What?”

  “You’ve been worried about Valerie. She’s still your sister and you can’t help looking out for her so I had my security track her.”

  “And she’s in New York?” I whisper, disbelief in my voice. I thought I was doing a pretty awesome job, hiding my worry from him. But he saw it all. He’s always seen me, even in the dark.

  “She’s in New York,” he repeats. “Is that where you want to go?”

  I hold his stare, seeing the sudden turbulence there.

  “I do want to go to New York,” I whisper and it’s like watching the security doors of a bank shut down. He gets closed off and silent for a minute, watching me.

  “You do, huh?”

  I nod, trying my hardest not to smile. God, this man makes my heart race in more ways than should be possible.

  “I need to give my boss my resignation letter in person. She was good to me and she deserves that respect.”

  He goes from wanting to obliterate the universe to smiling so beautifully, my heart pounds painfully.

  “And then what?”

  “And then I thought I’d have to break my lease at this shitty apartment and move to this secluded, private cabin in the mountains of Colorado,” I whisper. “I love that v=cabin. I feel like i found myself, my heart and my soul in that cabin, So if the owner of the cabin would let me… I’d love to live in that cabin for as long as possible.”

  “Oh really? Who is the owner of this cabin?”

  “Hmm, he’s this rugged, shrewd and amazing businessman who prefers life in the wild than in the city where he makes his millions.”

  “Billions, but please, do go on.”

  I laugh, planting my head on his shoulder so I can whisper in his ear. “I love the way he looks at me. I love the way he holds me when he’s sleeping, as if he doesn't want me to go anywhere. I especially love how he sees me, as if I’m the…”

  “Most precious, most beautiful, fucking sexy and the only person who is everything to me,” he finishes, a serious, solemn look on his face.

  “See,” I whisper, tears in my eyes. “The things he says, my soul interprets it as the truth.”

  “It is,” he growls. “You are my truth, baby and fuck I’m never letting you go.”

  I believe him and I don’t mind at all.

  “Good, because it would be a fucking mess if you ever think you can get rid of me.”

  “As opposed to the way I’ll set this world on fire? I guess we’ll never know.”

  He kisses me then, like it’s Christmas, New Year’s and the Fourth of July all wrapped in one. lIt’s a promise, a vow, a seal of forever that I’m so damn looking forward to with this man. Maybe we’ll encounter trouble somewhere down the line--at this point, that’s a given--but I’m willing to go through it if I’m with him.

  “I love you, Nicole Cross.”

  “Cross?”

  “Forever means fucking forever, Nicole and you’re mine.”

  I stare at him, reading in between the lines. There was a time when I wanted the whole Instagram worthy proposal with rose petals on the floor, candles everywhere and all that sugary stuff, but no, this, right here, in the home that both if us feel safe, vulnerable and open, I’m so damn happy.

  “Yes, yours. Forever.”

  My forbidden, twisted one-night--double night--sexy Mr. Cross. Some secrets, well, they might be dirty but they are so much fun.

  About the Author

  Lover of books, coffee, and chocolate ice cream!

  Writer of angsty new adult contemporary romance, some of them with an unconventional twist, Ivy lives a blessed life, surrounded by her two most important men—her husband and son. She also doesn't mind living with the fictional characters in her head that can’t seem to shut up and keep her awake at night. Books and romance are her passion. A strong believer in happy endings and that love will always prevail in the end. Both in life and in fiction.

  * * *

  For more news on upcoming projects, get the inside scoop and sneak peeks by stalking Ivy on social media. Click here for more info.

  Thandie

  Writes dark and twisted characters with stories that are steamy, heartbreaking, and all-consuming. She writes new adult contemporary romance. To find out more, oin my reader group on Facebook.

  Check her website

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  Hating Mr. Cooper

  BY AMANDA RICHARDSON

  Hating Mr. Cooper

  Amanda Richardson

  Published by Amanda Richardson

  © Copyright 2021 Amanda Richardson

  www.authoramandarichardson.com

  * * *

  Editing by Nice Girls, Naughty Edits

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  * * *

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  “Hating Mr. Cooper”

  A best friend’s dad romance

  * * *

  I’ve always known that Mr. Cooper hates me. And truth be told, the feeling is more than mutual. It doesn’t help that he’s also my best friend’s dad—and hot as all fucking get out. When I tag along with them on a trip to Prague over Christmas break, I expect the banter and the brooding glances. I expect awkward silences and teasing. But what I don’t expect is how possessive he acts when I go out clubbing, or the furtive glances he’s beginning to throw my way. And then one night, our tension reaches a boiling point—and Mr. Cooper unleashes himself upon me. I guess it’s true when they say hate is so very, very close to love.

  * * *

  Hating Mr. Cooper is an age-gap, student/teacher romance. It is taboo, but please know that the characters are 18+ and everything is consensual.

  Chapter 1

 
; Wren

  * * *

  Taylor licks my neck as his hands rove across my bare stomach, pulling me closer. I push his face away and throw my head back. Faking a groan, I roll my eyes in the process and move his hands up to my nipples. His fingers graze the taut skin, but they tease me without accomplishing anything. I shove them back down to my pants—maybe if he just focuses on one spot…

  Before I can even show him where to touch, his fingers trail up to my hair.

  Jesus.

  “I have to get to class,” I lie, pulling away from him and climbing out of his lap. The windows have fogged up in the ten minutes we’ve been fooling around in here, and I fix my hair quickly before grabbing my coat, completely unsatisfied.

  “Come on,” Taylor whines. “Since when do you care about getting to class on time? Let’s smoke a joint and ditch.”

  His offer is tempting, but then I remember NYU. I need to bring my GPA up this semester before sending in my application, and that entails actually attending class.

  “Since today.” I give him a quick peck on the cheek and exit his car.

  I hoist my backpack over my shoulder as I slam the door behind me. The chill doesn’t hit me at first, but the longer I walk, the colder I become. Shivering, I pull my suede jacket tighter as I walk through the open gate of Regent Charter School. I glance down at my phone, scowling. A minute late—which is just great, seeing as my teacher already despises me.

  I jog down the hallway to my class, my heart hammering in my chest. Quietly pushing the door open, I see Mr. Cooper facing the whiteboard, writing something down. I slink to the closest seat. Please don’t notice, please don’t notice, please don’t notice…

  “Nice of you to join us, Ms. Chambers,” he drawls, still facing the white board. “You’re three minutes late, so I’ll have to mark you tardy.” He turns to face me, and I feel my cheeks heat as a couple of people around me snicker.

  “I’m sorry, my car wouldn’t start after lunch,” I lie, sitting down and staring right back at him.

  He remains expressionless as he nods, but his dark eyes find mine and seem to see through my lie, like they always do.

  “Even so, I will have to mark you tardy.”

  I grind my jaw and nod once. “Fine.” He turns back to the board, and I resist the urge to call him a motherfucker under my breath.

  The class passes slowly, despite my love of history. I’m still angry that my tardiness may count negatively toward my overall grade. In this class especially, I really need an A.

  I’d love to major in history one day, and perhaps even teach the subject. I also dream about going on archaeological digs and restoring old buildings. I like working with my hands, and I like history. Maybe there’s a job out there for me that combines the two...

  If I ace this class.

  I don’t hear the bell until people begin to file out, and I shoot out of my seat, gathering my things.

  “Ms. Chambers, may I have a word?”

  My whole body freezes in place, and my eyes snap to Mr. Cooper. He’s sitting behind his desk, hands clasped in front of him.

  Great.

  I wait until everyone is gone to walk to his desk, feeling the embarrassment flush my chest. It’s bad enough that we don’t get along—but does he really have to be so handsome while also being such an asshole? It makes the fact that he hates me that much worse, because I almost can’t take him seriously. Early forties, dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin…

  And today he’s wearing a white button-up that’s rolled up to his elbows, and black trousers. He remains one of the cool kids on campus because he’s the only adult I know who can pull off lace up boots. Everyone loves him and wants to take his class—much to my chagrin. I tried to avoid it like the plague, but alas, he’s the only history teacher that teaches seniors, so I got stuck in this class.

  Still, does he have to be so pretty?

  I shake the thought away as I approach him. “Yes?” I ask, crossing my arms.

  He tracks my movement with his dark eyes, and his jaw feathers as he leans back slightly. As he crosses his arms and leans back, my eyes scan the way his shirt clings to his large biceps, and the way he has the top two buttons on his collar unbuttoned; an attempt to seem more casual to the students, I’m sure.

  All I can seem to look at, though, is the dark hair peeking through the top of his shirt.

  “It’s the third time you’ve been tardy since Thanksgiving. Felicity tells me you’re applying to NYU?”

  Traitor.

  My best friend is a traitor.

  Oh, and did I mention Mr. Cooper is my best friend’s dad?

  Yeah.

  “I was thinking about it,” I answer casually. I don’t tell him about the major I know I’ll be applying for, or the fact that I spent three hours last night on Google Street View near the school in Manhattan, daydreaming about living there. My application is nearly ready to send in. My essay is airtight. All I’m waiting for is my final report card.

  I’ve also been staying up late, doing extra credit for all my classes—including this one. He must know, because I’ve emailed him in the middle of the night the last three weekends in a row. In fact, despite him thinking I’m a bad influence on Felicity, I’ve really buckled down this semester and gotten my grades under control.

  Yet, he’s focusing on those three minutes like it’s life or death.

  “And you realize I will have to start docking your grade for tardiness?”

  I clench my fists at my sides. “I didn’t realize being three minutes late would affect my test scores,” I hiss.

  Mr. Cooper sits up straighter. “If you want to challenge the way I grade you, please feel free to discuss it with the principal. But you’ll be hard pressed to find someone within the administration who doesn’t agree with me.” He crosses his arms. “Why were you late today, Wren?”

  The way he says my first name feels too intimate for this conversation—like he’s using the fact that he’s my best friend’s dad against me. Like he’s trying to be my friend.

  But fuck that.

  He’s never liked me, and I’ve never liked him. It’s easier if we continue with our polite yet antagonistic existence.

  “Like I told you, my car wouldn’t start.”

  Because I was too busy fooling around with Taylor Harris, but okay.

  Something flashes in his gaze, but he doesn’t say anything as he nods and sighs.

  “You should probably have your car looked at.” His eyes find mine through his lashes, and I swallow nervously. Again, it’s like he can tell I’m lying.

  “I will.” I stand up straighter and adjust my shoulder bag. “Is that all?”

  His jaw ticks once.

  Twice.

  To the beat of the clock—like he wants to say more but chooses not to.

  Tick, tick, tick.

  “Yes, that’s all.”

  I don’t say anything as I twist around and walk toward the door. He’s playing nice today, but I’ve seen the heavy sighs, the pissed off expressions, the exasperation on his face on a near daily basis. If it’s not at school, it’s at his house, where he’s deemed me a bad influence on his daughter more times than I can count. So, while he might be humoring me right now, I know for a fact that he can’t wait until this semester is over and he won’t have to see me every day.

  “By the way, next time you decide to lie about why you were late to class, you might want to be sure that your teacher doesn’t see you mounting Mr. Harris in your car.”

  Each word clanks through me, one syllable at a time. As his words sink in, my heart begins to hammer in my chest. I’m about to turn around and give him a snarky retort when he brushes past me, scowling.

  “Have a good day, Wren.”

  And then he’s gone.

  These next two weeks can’t come soon enough. He won’t be my teacher anymore, thanks to our block schedule, and I can disappear into anonymity and only see him when I see Felicity.

  Thank f
ucking god.

  Chapter 2

  Wren

  * * *

  I’m still fuming as I look for Felicity after school. Even though Calculus and Anatomy should’ve been palate cleansers when it comes to Mr. Cooper, I couldn’t quite let go of the disappointment I could’ve sworn I heard in his voice.

  Have a good day, Wren.

  Why was I even trying to prove anything, anyways? His opinion outside of the classroom didn’t matter. So why did I care so much?

  I see Felicity texting frantically on her phone as she leans against her locker. Smiling, I walk up to her, tamping down my irritation directed at her dad.

  “Hey.” My voice surprises her, because she jumps a little bit and looks up at me with bright eyes.

  Stunning.

  My best friend is stunning. Dark, curly hair, light brown eyes, the same golden skin as her father…

  Stop it, Wren.

  “Oh my god, guess what? You are going to die when I tell you.” She grins, biting her bottom lip. “My mom can’t take me over break anymore!” she squeals.

  I furrow my brows. “And that’s a good thing… why?”

  Felicity and her mom get along just fine, and I know she was looking forward to seeing her for a whole two weeks…

  “I mean, I’m sad I won’t see her, but I guess she has to work overtime and shit, so it’s fine. I’ll see her soon enough. But this means I can go to Prague with my dad!”

  I’d nearly forgotten that Mr. Cooper had booked a two-week trip to Prague a few months ago. He’d made our class write papers on Bohemia because he was so excited.

  “Ugh, I’m jealous,” I whine as we walk to the parking lot. “We’re going to stay with Grandma Mildred in Long Island. It’ll be a total bore, like always.”

 

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