Designer Genes - The Boyfriend Cut
Page 39
His brow arched, "I'm just curious why. Having second thoughts?" Jesse leaned closer. "Reconsidering my offer?" His lips pressed my cheek lightly, but I didn't turn my face to accept a kiss in return. My lips pressed my coffee mug instead.
"Sort of," I confessed. Another sip warmed my throat and bought me a couple of seconds. My heart clanged in my chest. I faced Jesse, taking his hand. "I needed someplace quiet to sort through the confusion."
Jesse's fingers wrapped my wrist and he drew me closer, but I pulled back.
"No more seduction tricks, Jess. It's important you listen to me."
"Okay, you have my attention. What?"
"This morning I realized something. I care for you Jess, yes, but nothing close to what I feel for Jordan." I placed my hand to the side of his face to keep him from turning away. "I did consider your proposal, more seriously than you think"
"What changed your mind back to Jordan?"
"The other night you told me to choose my happy-ever-after with my heart. Jess, Jordan holds my heart. He always has. I don't care who holds the strings to my future, as long as he shares it with me."
Water pooled in Jesse's chocolate eyes. "But is love enough, Mars? When you wake up someday not having realized your dream, will that love for Jordan be all you need?"
"Jordan is my dream. He's the prince charming I've fantasized about my whole life. We've already survived enough drama for me to realize that together, we're strong. Our love grows with our problems…not fades. I know life holds no guarantees and believing otherwise would be foolish. But I want the chance to prove the odds wrong…with Jordan. I love him, Jess. Not you.
Tears dripped from Jesse's eyes and my heart wanted to hurt for him, but too much joy filled it. I threw my arms around him and he crushed me to him.
"Damn this hurts."
"Like hell," I validated. "But I can't take it back, Jess. I don't want to."
He pulled away and heaved a couple of large breaths. "I won't believe it's over until a preacher says so." He handed me his receptor. "I think there's someone looking for you." He brought my hand to his lips, softly kissing my knuckles. A tear splashed and rolled off my wrist, its origin unknown. His or mine. "Be happy."
He trudged down the boardwalk, his hands stashed deep in pockets, head hung low. He never looked back.
I leaned against the bar, closing my eyes against the golden rays bending into the galley and warming my face. The forgiving voice answering on the other end of the receptor sent my heart racing.
"Hey, baby, I miss you. Are you all right?" Jordan asked, pensive.
"I will be as soon as I'm in your arms. Come get me?"
The voice suddenly sounded close. "I'm already here, but until I'm holding you, I'm not complete."
I drank in the faded jeans riding his hips in such a way my mouth parched, my gaze following the lines of the narrow waist to the broad chest testing the threads of the heather gray Cornell University T-shirt, up the tanned neck where a hard swallow rolled, then over the square chin to the heart-shaped lips that knew how to turn bone marrow to hot liquid. Dimples framed the corners when they tweaked upward and when my gaze locked on eyes the color of a deep, still pond, my heart leapt with excitement. Every nerve ending in my body pinged.
Jordan lifted me onto the counter, hands firmly on my hips and moved his six foot three inches of unbelievable gorgeousness between my legs in an extremely intimate embrace.
I locked my hands around his neck. "What are you doing?" I asked unable to mask my needy tone.
He pulled me tighter and I sucked my lower lip against the surge of excitement rocketing through me. Jordan took my chin in one hand, pulled my lip from my teeth with his thumb and settled his mouth gently on mine.
"Research for a future project."
I blushed hot enough to combust. "You're terrible."
He kissed me again and laughed lightly against my lips. "Let's hope not."
I threw my head back with a wicked laugh and Jordan bathed my neck with tiny nips, turning my laughter to moans. My fingers twisted into his silky bronze locks, still damp and smelling of mango scented shampoo. I circled my legs around his hips, keeping the sensuous feel of him pressed against somewhere soon to be only his.
Jordan's fingers skimmed my face, trembling, and his secret weapon lips claimed my mouth hard, possessive, and greedy. One arm slid up my back and he released my hair from the twisted bun, tangling his fingers into the loose strands. His other hand pressed my lower back, pushing out any molecules of air remaining between our bodies. I swam deliriously in the intoxicating kiss, relishing the rush of feelings awakening more frequently and stronger, chipping away my self control.
Jordan broke the kiss, rested his forehead against mine and struggled for air through ragged breaths. The torture I put him through mirrored in his blackened eyes. I ran my thumb slowly over his lips watching them dilate further.
"Marry me?" I whispered.
He kissed me again, slower, softer. "You're really going to make me wait, aren't you?"
"I believe page four of our contract says we're sworn to celibacy," I teased, knowing full well from this moment on all laws would be broken, boundaries crossed, and the only limits that mattered were those Jordan and I set ourselves. To hell with The Program.
"Marli, when I'm with you there are no rules. Everything and everyone fades away. It's only you and me. What do you say? Want to fool around?"
I bit his bottom lip…hard.
"Damn, girl."
Turn the page for a glimpse into Book Two of the Designer Genes Saga.
Prologue
"Son, have a seat."
Out of instinct, I chose the black leather wingback closest to the door. When Jess and I were younger, being summoned to our father's private office generally meant we'd been caught doing something we shouldn't, or some parental decision had been made—one we wouldn't like. Once the announcement was delivered or punishment rendered, you wanted out of the room before anyone witnessed your emotional reaction. Like tears.
The heavy wooden door closed behind me, silencing the room. Dad paused at the wall of windows showcasing a picturesque view of the harbor, and cerulean ocean stretching to infinity beyond the border patrols. His shoulders rose and fell with deep, contemplative breaths, and mine turned shallow in response with panic rooted deep in my stomach.
"Jordan," he began, his back to me and his serious tone resonating off the bullet-proof glass. "I can't begin to describe how pleased I am with your decision to marry Marli Davis. The choice has been yours to make from the beginning, but I'm proud of the way you let the relationship evolve into one of trust and mutual admiration, instead of exercising dominance." He glanced over his shoulder. "Her eyes tell how much she loves you."
"I love her so much, but I'm afraid to trust in how happy I feel."
He angled my direction, a questioning air about his demeanor. "Why?"
"Because of The Program." An honest answer. "I fear she'll be taken from me any moment. I almost wish we'd had sex so they'd be forced to consider the match official."
A small smile bent his mouth, but disappeared before settling permanently. The heavy breath expelled through his nostrils offered little comfort. He lowered into the chair behind his massive desk and drummed his knuckles against his mouth. A trace of weariness bracketed his eyes.
"I see. I'm somewhat relieved to know you haven't, although I'd never render judgment. You and Marli are old enough to understand the responsibility behind such a choice. If, however, by 'they' you mean Tony Peterson, a moral compromise won't matter."
Not the answer I needed.
Nervously, I punched my fist softly against my palm below the desktop. "Maybe after our engagement is recorded in the database, the Petersons' obsession with Marli will end."
Dad's mouth twisted and he gave me a worried look. Bad news coming.
"I wish the solution was that simple." He leaned forward, eyes dropped to an ivory envelope. "Jordan, I need you to
hold off contacting Marv for a bit."
Marvin Gomez, my counselor, would be the first step in notifying The Program of my decision to make my relationship with Marli permanent. He would, in turn, notify Marli's counselor once he met with me and finalized matters. In the meantime, neither Marli nor I were allowed to share our news outside of immediate family until The Program officially changed our candidacy status.
The fact Marli didn't want to call Rick when we returned to the penthouse to share something so important, worried me she second-guessed her answer. If I postponed changing our status, I risked my worst nightmare coming true because I'd give her the escape hatch she already appeared to search for.
The muscles in my shoulders roped tight. I lifted my arms, locked my hands behind my skull, and studied the carved wooden tiles covering the ceiling. "Why would I want to wait?"
From my peripheral vision, I watched Dad push the envelope across the desk. I dropped my hands, twisting them in to a tight knot between my knees. I slumped close to the desktop, refusing to touch what I assumed contained another control agent I'd despise.
"What's this?"
"Jordan, The Program is struggling to find eligible candidates. Moral standards are almost non-existent. Personally, I'm saddened to see that even the academic numbers have fallen drastically. Traditional educational options are being discarded for false hopes of attaining big money by working for corporate conglomerates, in particular, those promising fantasy positions on one of the three operating space stations."
"Careful. SpringCor is one of those corporate monsters."
Dad scrubbed his hand across his chin. "Don't remind me."
"So back to the reason why I have to put my life on hold? Marli's going to freak, especially if she thinks I'm keeping something from her." Again.
"Well then she's really going to hate what I'm about to ask of you."
The hackles raised on my neck. "Me?"
He tapped the envelope I still hadn't picked up. "New Year's Eve, the two governing districts in The Program will host a ball. Six hand-picked candidates, three girls in the West and three boys in our section, will play hosts and hostesses to a select few candidates, for promotional purposes. All staged and, hopefully, enticing to those potential candidates gleaned from the database in February. I'm not comfortable with the advertising stunt, nevertheless, I'm not in the control seat. You, Jordan, along with Ambassador Kirk's son, and…"
"Shit! Doug Peterson?"
"Check you language, son. Even between us. And yes, Douglas Peterson. Each of you will be given an assigned dance card of sorts with the young ladies you are to dazzle for the cameras."
"Marli? Is she on my card?"
When Dad didn't answer, I bolted from the chair and stood at the window, neck craned sideways to see if I could spot Marli by the pool. Flashes of sunlight bouncing off the ripples told me someone swam, but all I could see were a couple of deck chairs resting in puddles that had splashed on the deck. At least I hadn't lied about anyone seeing us in the hot tub last night.
The memory kicked my lower regions into action and my pants suddenly felt snug. Marli's satiny skin running the length of mine under water, a free pass to explore parts of her previously forbidden, and her granting permission to such intimacy, tore down the remaining wall between us. For the first time, I believed I'd earned her complete trust. Now, I risked losing it again.
"Jordan?"
"No. I won't do it," I declared, the defiance rising in my chest. "I'll never lie to Marli again."
The chair squeaked behind me when the man I loved, respected, and loathed at the moment, left it to cross the room and join me at the window. The words spoken next were the same ones I'd heard over and over all my life, but this time, cut deep. Anger, fear, and frustration melted into a heavy ball weighted in my gut.
Dad shoved his hands deep in his pockets. I braided mine behind my back, my feet shoulder-width apart in an all too familiar military stance.
"You don't have a choice, son."
"I see." Quiet but tense. "Tell me, Father, when will the choice be mine? At what point in my life will I have control?" Remaining rigid and facing forward, I turned my head, jaw set hard, and throat tight. "If anything happens…" Tears burned without warning and I swallowed them down. "If I lose Marli because of this asinine Program, I will hold you personally responsible." I turned back to the world moving beyond the plate glass, unaware of the control subtly manipulating innocent lives.
"And…I'll hate you forever."
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
It's been said it takes a village to raise a child. The same holds true for publishing a book.
The Designer Genes saga has been over four years from concept, to publication of this first book. Every change in this story stood subject to scrutiny by wonderful critique partners, beta readers, and finally through an editorial fire that brought the characters to life. Thank you "my village" for sacrificing endless hours to help Designer Genes go from sticky notes to something I'm proud to share.
To my husband who stands at my side with pocket book open and tissues in hand, I love you.
To Kaye, Karla, and Sascha. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sticking with me once again, and not letting me wave the white flag as I threatened countless times during this process. Your friendship is priceless.
To my mentor and editor, Lynne. You made me laugh when I wanted to cry. Your blatant, somewhat colorful, honesty regarding my characters' flaws, and unfailing perseverance in helping me develop them into stronger, three dimensional individuals, is what makes Designer Genes shine.
Lastly, to my fans. Thank you for your support. Without you, my dreams would never come true.
You rock!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Harley Brooks dreamed of being an astronaut when she grew up, but when she entered her teens she discovered boys, and her quest for the stars turned to finding her prince charming. Vivid memories of the emotional rollercoaster called "life" during those years, influenced her decision to write teen romance.
Known for writing racy, edgy, and emotionally charged stories filled with unforgettable characters who can't seem to get out of their own way, Harley Brooks untangles superheroes from their capes.
When she's not writing, she's exploring scenic byways on her Harley Davidson. She still wishes on the first star of the night and the last one sparkling in the morning.
Fans are what make her world go round and she loves to hear from them. You can find her at the following hangouts:
www.harleybrooks.com
harleybrooks.author@gmail.com
Facebook – Harley Brooks, Author
Twitter - @_harleybrooks
Other award-winning books by Harley Brooks
Riley's Pond
Table of Contents
1. . . Chosen
2. . . The Interview
3. . . Hijacked
4. . . Kismet Unleashed
5. . . Busted
6. . . Gossip Train
7. . . Devil's Advocate
8. . . Last Dance
9. . . Game On
10. . Graduation Presence
11. . Beach Party Breakup
12. . Door Number 3
13. . Hide And Seek
14. . My Alaska
15. . Burying The Past
16. . Collision Course
17. . My Mission Impossible
18. . No Choice
19. . Park City
20. . Complicated Goodbyes
21. . Tuscany Romance
22. . Jordan
23. . Puppy Love
24. . The Scavenger Hunt
25. . Tropical Bliss
26. . Things That Go "Bump" In The Night
27. . Revelations
28. . Full Disclosure
29. . Close Call
30. . Bartering
31. . Expect The Unexpected
32. . Thanksgiving
33. . Hearts And Roses
34. . Bit
tersweet
Acknowledgement
About the Author