Finding Perseverance (The Unexpected Love Series Book 3)
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Finding Perseverance
Book #3 in The Unexpected Series
T.E. Black
Contents
Playlist
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Finding Perseverance
Copyright © 2016 by T.E. Black
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, locations, and names occurring in this book are the product of the author’s imagination, or are the property of their respective owners and are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, locations, or persons (living or dead), is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
All trademarks and trade names are used in a fictitious manner and are in no way endorsed by or an endorsement of their respective owners.
Contains sexual situations, violence, sensitive and offensive language and mature topics. Recommended for age 18 years and up.
Cover Design And Formatting—T.E Black Designs;
www.authorteblack.com
Cover Photos—Jenn LeBlanc; Illustrated Romance;
http://jennleblanc.photoshelter.com
Editing—Ashley Williams; Adept Edits
Playlist
“Please Don’t Go”—Joel Adams
“Never Forget You”—Zara Larsson
“Lips Of An Angel”—Hinder
“I Told You I Was Mean”—Elle King
“This Time Around”— Tove Lo
“Mansion”—NF
“(Don’t Fear) The Reaper”—Blue Oyster Cult
“Silhouette”—Aquilo
“Don’t You Find”—Jamie T
“Silhouettes”—Of Monsters and Men
“Moments”—Tove Lo
“You Don’t Know Love”—Olly Murs
“Don’t Wanna Be Your Girl”—Wet
“The Funeral”—Band of Horses
“Four Walls”—Broods
“Closer”—Chainsmokers
“Say It”—Flume
“Easy To Love You (Acoustic)”—Theory of a Deadman
“Everything You Are”—Ed Sheeran
“tust”—Christina Perri
“Please Don’t Leave Me”—P!nk
“Start Again”—Conrad Sewell
“Bed Of Lies”—Nicki Minaj
“Witness (Stripped)”—Daughtry
“Save Me”—Nicki Minaj
“Fools”—Lauren Aquilina
“Nervous”—Gavin James
“Mine”—Third Eye Blind
“She Sets The City On Fire”—Gavin DeGraw
Listen on Spotify
Dedication
For My Family …
Prologue
Ryleigh
Ten Years Earlier …
“Do you have everything packed?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe.
“Yeah. Come here.”
Rook gazes at me from his spot on our bed. He stares through me, touching my soul in a place that hasn't felt vulnerable in a long time. He has always had a way of doing that—making me feel.
“Leigh?” he questions, probably wondering why I was still standing in the doorway.
“Sorry.”
Forcing myself to move, I walk to him. My breathing increases, and my palms sweat profusely at the thought of never being in his personal space again. I don’t want him to leave. Why did he have to get an offer from a trainer? It’s not fair.
They are going to whisk him away to a big city and mold him into something he’s not. They’ll turn him into the poster child for violence—a fighter. That isn’t who he is. Rook is a good man, not a beast.
When I stop in front of him, his fingertips dance over the skin on the back of my thighs, sliding up and under my shorts. The sensual feeling of his touch is enough to pull a moan from my lips.
“Babe, you know we could make this work, right? It doesn’t have to be this way,” he pleads, nuzzling his face into my stomach.
I love him.
My fingers wind into the back of his hair, as a single tear rolls down my cheek. “Yeah, it does. You’re going to be in California, and I’ll be in Boston. The distance is too much.”
Admitting my and Rook’s harsh reality causes an ache in my heart. He can try convincing me this could work, but I know better. I won’t do it to myself … or him.
It wouldn’t be right for me to take on the responsibility of a long-distance relationship. I know we would never cheat on each other. Rook has always been loyal to a fault, as have I. The problem is the emotional turmoil of us being thousands of miles away from each other.
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Leigh. You can come with me.”
I back away from him as if he smacked me in the face. “Are you kidding? You want me to drop my life and follow you?” I snap. “I don’t know where you got that impression of me, but it’s not who I am.”
My harsh tone causes him to wince, but he collects himself. “I know it’s not who you are. I get it. But it doesn’t change the fact that I want you with me. I won’t ask you to give up your dreams, the same way you’ve never asked me to give up mine. That’s not fair, but I can tell you that I’d be invincible with you by my side. I can tell you I need you more than you think I do. I can tell you I won’t be able to sleep at night without you, and that the love I feel for you is more than any I feel for a career as a fighter.”
My eyes lock with his while he digs his fingertips into the backs of my thighs. The gesture ignites a need in me I’ve been suppressing since I found out the offer he got.
If I let Rook stay, he will eventually resent me. He will slowly stop loving me altogether. Yes, he loves me, but he loves fighting just as much. Who am I to ask him to give up his dreams and settle down in a shitty dive bar? It isn’t Rook’s dream.
“No.”
“What?”
“I won’t do that.”
“Leigh, what the hell are you talking about? I’m telling you I’ll stay if you want me to. Isn’t this what you want—what you’ve been hinting at?”
Removing one of his hands from the back of my thigh, I hold it in mine. The rough texture and the countless scars from fights he
fought to protect me leave me speechless—broken even. My chest burns from the lack of air, and when I turn my eyes from his hand to his face, there is hurt in his eyes. I’ve never seen him look at me this way, but his tell-all green irises give away every ounce of pain he feels.
“Do you see this scar?” I trace the one sitting on his knuckle.
“Yeah. I see it. I saw it the day I cracked Tim Lewis in the mouth for calling you a bitch, too.”
I give him a caring smile before continuing, “See, the thing is, you’ve always done things for me, Rook. You’ve always given a hundred percent to our relationship, and I’ve always taken it with the utmost gratitude. The problem is I’ve never been able to give anything back.”
Before I can even keep on with my good-bye, he stands abruptly and pulls me against his chest. The feel of his hard body against my softer one is enough to make me take back all I’ve said and let him stay.
“Don’t stand here and belittle yourself so you can send me away. I don’t care if you think this makes my leaving easier. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I won’t let you say otherwise. I’ve loved you since I was twelve, Ryleigh O’Donnell. I loved you before I had anything else to love besides my family, so don’t act like fighting will ever come first. It won’t. You will always come first. I won’t leave Boston unless you’re coming.”
“Rook … I can—”
“Fuck, Leigh! What do you want from me? I say I’ll stay, and you tell me to go. I tell you I’m leaving, and your eyes beg me not to. You have to give me something here. I have to sign a lease in California in less than twenty-four hours.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m trying to do the right thing. I’ve given you every option I can come up with, and yet, we’re still standing here without a damn answer. I need you to tell me what you want—what you need. I’m not trying to force this on you, but I need you to decide if I keep packing my suitcase or not. Please, babe. Tell me what you want.”
Swallowing down the bile rising in my throat, I look away from his love-filled gaze. The weight of this decision rests on every inch of my heart, soul, and body, but I have to make it. He’s right.
He has less than twenty-four hours to sign a lease on a condo in California and less than twelve before his already booked flight takes off. So what the hell am I waiting for? Why don’t I tell him to cancel his plans and climb back into bed? Why don’t I tell him I want him to stay?
I have always given him something when it came to our relationship without even knowing. When I smile at him, I give him a piece of myself not many get to see. When I kiss him fearlessly, I am being brave for him. They are silent but sincere gestures, but it is the way I show him how much he means to me. I put him before myself. In every aspect of my life, I have thought about Rook Wallace before my own needs. I have taken his feelings into consideration when it came to making decisions.
I have loved him selflessly.
“You should go to California,” I say with a fake confidence.
“What?”
“You should go. You’re going to be an amazing fighter one day, and I won’t stand in the way.” I pause before cracking a joke to lighten the now heavy mood. “Plus, I’ll still be here when you want to come back. All you have to do is look for Max’s neon sign and the bad-ass, blonde bartender who makes a mean cocktail.”
“Please don’t tell me you want me to go if you don’t. I need you to tell me the truth. I don’t want to lose this—us.” He waves his hand between us.
“We’ll keep in touch. I promise. But we can’t date anymore. It’ll only complicate things. We’ll figure it out. All right?” I shrug.
Wrapping his arms around my shoulders, one hand cups the back of my head before he pulls it against his chest. I take comfort in his embrace, letting him surround me for as long as he’ll keep me. I won’t get this after he leaves, and it’s going to rip me apart. At least I’ll know I put myself through hell for the right reasons.
I took from myself to give to him.
Some may say putting a man first is weak, but forget them. Because those “some” who think there’s an ounce of weakness in my body are idiots. I have a newsflash for them.
When you love someone, you’re willing to go to extreme measures to make them happy. You will do anything to make sure they live the best life they can, and you will do this without them actually knowing.
It may be something they miss on a daily basis, and that’s okay. Because one day, they’re going to wake up and think back on their life. They will rerun every detail of it in an attempt to retrace the roads traveled. Do you know what will be on each of those roads? A person who loves them so much they do what is right instead of what they want.
Chapter One
Ryleigh
“Holy shit. You taste delicious.”
I wind my fingers through spiky, chocolate-colored hair, and give the face between my legs some guidance, but there is still nothing.
Is this a joke?
I haven’t had a guy’s face between my legs in ten years, but there’s no way it sucked this bad in the past. From what I can remember, when Rook used to go to town, I loved it. He would have me screaming in a matter of minutes. So what’s this dude’s problem?
“How’s that, baby?” He growls against my clit.
I toss my head back in frustration, and it hits the headboard with a thud.
“A little to the left,” I instruct, hoping for something—anything.
He follows my command, but it still doesn’t do a damn thing for me. I don’t know if he just really sucks at eating pussy, or if it’s me. Maybe being straight isn’t for me after all. It’s the only logical explanation.
“Better?” he mumbles, swiping his tongue over my clit.
“Ah … go right. Try to the right.”
When he moves his tongue, he hits the spot I’ve been waiting for him to find the entire time. My back arches off the mattress, and a desperate moan slips from my lips.
“Oh God, yes. Right there. Yes. Keep going.”
He mutters something, but thankfully, I can’t make it out. I’m pretty sure his deep voice is screwing with my inner sexual diva.
It could be that I’m not used to hearing a male’s voice when I’m about to get off, too. That could very well be it. I’m used to hearing the sweet, soft voice of a female. Maybe the issue isn’t this guy can’t eat out a woman, but my love for a woman’s sensual touch.
The pressure builds in my abdomen, and the tips of my fingers tingle from gripping the sheets so tightly. I’m almost there. He just needs to keep doing what he’s doing, and I’ll reach my climax in no time.
“Fuck,” I moan as he sucks my clit into his mouth.
“You like that, sweetheart?”
Oh, no! Please don’t talk. You’re ruining this.
“No talking.”
My body is wound so tightly, if he can keep quiet, I’ll find my release easily.
“Why?”
“No talking,” I snap again.
I can’t decide if bringing this Brad guy home from the bar was a good idea. He’s attractive, and when he had the balls to hit on me in the bar, I figured why the hell not? I was in a taking mood, and Brad was interested in giving me what he had to offer. I’d be a fool not to take him up on it.
At thirty-one, I have to take what I can get. I’m not flawless by any means, but I get plenty of compliments on my incredible rack and tanned skin. Having blonde hair doesn’t do me any harm either.
Since deciding to try this whole exclusively straight thing again, I’ve been picky when it comes to men. Before I brought the bar guy home, it was looking as if I’d be sexually frustrated for the rest of my life. While the odds looked good a few moments ago, the way he’s lapping at me as if I were a bowl of water makes me give up. The amount of spit coming from his mouth is enough to kill what little progress we’d just made.
What is happening?
I push at his head to get his attention. “Uh … Brad?�
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He looks up with a classic pussy eating face—the face that tells me he thinks he’s hitting every magical spot, but in reality, he’s nowhere close. His lips glisten from my wetness and a sly, cocky grin lingers on his lips.
Oh God. I’m going to be sick.
“You close?” he questions.
“I don’t think …”
“Do you need something more?”
I rub my hands over my eyes, praying that when I open them he won’t still be looking and acting as if he were going to give me the best orgasm with his mouth.
“This isn’t working.”
His brow furrows, and he gives me a perplexed look. “What’s not working?”
“This,” I state, saving us both from the embarrassment of my orgasm never happening.
“Why didn’t you say you weren’t into having your pussy eaten?”
His comment pisses me off. He actually thinks the problem’s me when it’s not. I love having someone eat me for breakfast, lunch, and dinner—hell, even dessert. But it’s this guy’s problem he can’t figure out how to use his tongue.
“Oh no. I love getting my pussy eaten. The problem isn’t me, big guy.”
“I think different,” he throws back, his cocky grin fading. “I’ve been pleasing women for years and eating them out. Not one has ever said my tongue was the issue.”
How dare he imply it’s me who has the problem? Why can’t he man up and say he’s shitty at oral?
“Let’s agree to disagree. Either way you look at it, the mood’s dead, buddy. I couldn’t fuck even if James Deen were standing in front of me with his cock pressed to my lips.”
He looks confused for a moment before recognition of the name comes.
“Did you just use a porn star to insult me?” He scoffs. “Wow. That’s a first.”
“I dig James Deen.” I shrug, unapologetically.
“Maybe you should call him and see if his mouth could get you off then.” The bitterness in his tone is obvious, and I can’t help but laugh to myself.