by Alora Kate
“Lex,” I said through pinched cheeks.
“Fine. I’ll go,” she whispered and disappeared.
By the time Molly left, my pain pill had kicked in, and I felt light as a feather.
“Thanks for staying with me even though Alexa is a pain in the ass.” He kissed my hand again. “Your words, Prescot. I love to hear your words.”
I watched him watch me, laying in silence. Not speaking. We could do that; read each other’s mind.
“You can have them,” he finally said.
I leaned in and kissed him on the lips. “Soon, I can have all of you.”
“Ki.” My name rolled softly of his lips, and I kissed him again. “You tempt me.”
“I love to tempt you, Mr. Bale.”
He growled and I put my head back on my pillow and closed my eyes. “I really do love to tempt you.” Prescot held my hand and gently placed kisses on it as I fell asleep.
###
“Donovan,” I said as he walked through my door with two bodyguards.
“Ki.” He smiled and came to sit on the rocking chair next to the couch. Alexa had bought it since I’ve been lying on the couch more than I usually do. It was an old, ugly orange rocking chair from the sixties I’m sure, but she replaced the cushion and said it was super comfortable now. It didn’t match anything we had, but nothing really matched in our apartment. We didn’t need fancy things, nor could we afford it.
“What did the doctor say?” I asked, cutting right to the point.
“I’m fine, Ki. Don’t worry.”
“The surgery?”
“We have to wait for you to heal.”
“Like a month?”
“If you’re healed by then.”
“I’m sure we can do it by then.”
He nodded, adverted his eyes, and crossed a leg. He was worried. He looked out the front window, and I followed. There were small little specs of rain falling on the window. “I love the smell of rain,” he disclosed, and I looked back him and smiled.
“I do also, used to play in the rain all the time when I was a kid.”
“So did I!” Alexa announced, sitting next to me on the couch. “Love it when the rain washed the pain away.”
We both looked at her and she glanced at us. “What?”
Alexa had it worse than me; at least my parents weren’t addicts. My mom wasn’t a bad mom, she just lived her life for my father, not me.
“How’s your shoulder?” my father asked.
“Fine.”
“Just keep resting.”
“As boring as it is, I am.”
Alexa stood and said, “Trust me; she’s resting all the time.”
“She won’t let me do anything but rest.”
She smirked. “I’m grabbing a water, want something?”
“No, thanks.”
“I should go,” my father said, standing. He put his hand out to mine, and I gave him a squeeze because it hurt to hug someone. “Thanks, Ki.”
“Keep me posted; let me know if there’s a change.”
He nodded and let himself out. After the door had shut, Alexa locked up and came back to the couch with a bottle of water. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to work and have lots of sex with Prescot.”
“You aren’t supposed to do either.”
“I know, and it sucks. I can only watch so many movies.”
“You need the break and rest, Ki. Let your body heal so you can then heal your dad.”
I laid my head on the back of the couch and closed my eyes. It hurt my shoulder a little, but not too much; there was improvement, and I couldn’t baby it. I had to move around to keep the muscles from healing the wrong way.
“Is Prescot coming over later?”
“Yes; that okay?”
“I don’t care. You’re in that honeymoon phase where everything is fun and perfect.”
“I guess.”
“The beginning is always the best part.”
“It’s all you do.”
She lightly smacked my leg. “So what? At least I don’t get hurt this way. Or hurt someone else.”
“You aren’t your mother, Lex; you won’t disappoint anyone.”
“Just because I haven’t let you down yet, doesn’t mean I won’t.”
“If I could kick your ass right now, I would.”
“I hardly doubt that. Remember we quit kickboxing class.”
“We should do that again,” I reminded her, lifting my head up. “When I’m healed from my shoulder and bone marrow procedure.” I slid to the end of the couch and stood, holding my arm against my chest.
“Get some rest now before he comes over.”
“I’ll even take my pill.”
“Really!?” she squealed. “I’ll go get it.”
I used the restroom, took the pill, and then crawled into bed. Lex sat next to me and ran her fingers through my hair. “We need to get your highlights touched up.”
“Someday.”
“They still look great.”
“I agree.”
They had grown out, but my hair is usually in a ponytail, so I barely noticed. But Alexa, she would. I fell asleep with her running her hand through my hair and woke up to Prescot kissing my cheek.
“Alexa said you’d been sleeping for three hours.”
“Really?”
I slowly sat up, and the stiffness confirmed the long nap.
“Can we talk?”
“Crap,” I muttered. “Is this a dream?”
He shook his head and I knew he was breaking up with me. But why? We’ve spent every day together when he wasn’t at work or therapy. He looked at me like I’m his world and his kisses held promises of what’s to come. I laid back down. “Nothing good comes from that saying, Prescot.”
“I’m not good with my words, Ki.”
“Just say it, get it over with.”
He was silent. Longer than normal. My stomach was in knots, and I already felt the tears waking up. I sat up and faced him. “I want your words, Prescot; regardless of how much it’s going to hurt.”
“I love you, Ki.” I was completely caught off guard. This man who was three times my size, covered with doves and olive branches, loved me. “I’m not going to give you the speech about how life is too short, we all know that, but it’s true. I know if I lost you, I’d be lost. I’ve been lost once before, and I don’t want to go down that road again.”
“Lost?”
“I never told Vicki that I loved her.”
“But you married her.”
“My mother was horrible to me, never understood me, and treated me like shit, but she was all I had. For some reason, when she passed, I had a midlife crisis. I met Vicki during that midlife crisis, and one night while we were drunk she suggested we get married. I had a prenup done at the firm I worked at a few days later, and then we flew to Vegas and got married. Within two weeks I knew I had made a mistake, and I felt bad for leading her on, so I tried to make it work. I tried to be romantic, but she was only interested in money, and things. She bought lots of things. Things we didn’t need.”
He gave me all his words, making me fall in love with him even more.
“I went back to work at the firm and realized how much I hated it. It was all a bunch of games and nonsense, so I decided to go out on my own and I brought a few clients with me. A few months later, more people found out and more came. That’s when I started hiring associates and other staff members. Thomas, a former classmate of mine, approached me about becoming a partner. After a few weeks of working together, I made him a partner. Vicki hated everything about me quitting and starting my own firm. She thought it was less money, but it wasn’t. I set up a separate account so she wouldn’t bleed me dry.”
There was something undeniably sexy about how open and honest Prescot was being with me. I couldn’t help myself and I threw myself at him and slammed my lips to his. I kissed him hard as the tears rolled down my cheeks. I had one hand behind his hea
d, forcing him to keep our lips locked. I was ready to move on, with him.
My heart now belonged to Prescot Bale.
I scooted as close as I could on his lap, moving against him. I trailed my fingers up and down the back of his neck as his lips gently moved down the side of my neck, resting on my collarbone. He nibbled and licked before moving back up my neck and lightly sucking my earlobe into his mouth. He growled in my ear as I rocked slowly against his growing cock. He braced me, sliding his hand just to the top of my ass, and pulled me against him faster. My eyes rolled and I moaned softly in his ear. So gently, he slid my tank top off my body, sliding his hands up to cup my bare breasts. His thumbs rubbed soft circles around my nipples before he took my mouth again. He sucked and nibbled on my bottom lip as he pinched my nipples, eliciting a louder moan from me. I tugged on his shirt, and he tore it off. I couldn’t stop moving against his hard-on, and by the way he pressed me harder against him, it didn’t seem like he was ready for me to stop either. With a grin on my lips, I slid off his lap, pulling his shorts off with me. I was gentle, cautious about any pain he may still have in his legs before I settled in between his knees. His hard cock stood at attention and I locked my eyes on his. His breathing was ragged when I slid my lips over his tip, sliding all the way down my throat. I could have sucked on him for hours, and from the rhythm I held, and the loud breaths and moans coming from Prescot, I knew he was close. This was all for him.
I released him from my mouth and leaned back. His eyes burned my skin as he tracked my moves like a predator. I ran my good hand down in between my breasts, and slowly down my stomach, before settling on the waistband of my shorts. He drew in a deep breath and tried to reach for me. I grinned and slid my shorts off, letting my fingers linger where he wanted me the most. Slowly, I sat on him, guiding him inside of me. I sighed in his ear and began moving slowly up and down. His warm hands moved all over my bare back as I rode him, answering his demand for slow and gentle, and I licked and sucked his neck before settling on his jawline.
“I love you too, Prescot.”
I hope you loved Prescot and Ki because you haven’t read the last of them.
Flip a page to read Chapter 1 of A Beautiful Acceptance, book 2 in the NYC series from Alexa and Tapper’s POV, coming 10/16/17
A
BEAUTIFUL
ACCEPTANCE
a NYC series
Book 2
By
ALORA KATE
Chapter 1 – Alexa
I watched Ki and Prescot cuddle on the couch while I sat in my new rocking chair. Ki secretly hated the chair, even though the cushion was brand new on the inside. It was only the outside that was a tad ugly, but I knew it was growing on her. I saw her sit in it earlier today when she thought I wasn’t looking, and she looked damn comfortable.
Ki told me this morning about her and Prescot exchanging ‘I love yous’ last night and it was cute to watch but so over rated. I just hoped neither of them fucked it up. Especially Prescot. If he does anything stupid like he did when he banned her from the hospital, or worse, I’d be paying him a visit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for my best friend; she deserved it and it was about time it happened for her. I caught her eye and smiled at her. It’s about time she got over the Brayden thing. I knew as soon as she took him off that pedestal of hers that she would realize that it wasn’t the real thing.
I turned the chair toward the TV and started the movie. It was a movie from the seventies; people were shooting and killing each other and at one point, I picked up the remote to change it but Ki said it was okay. Ki and Prescot were shot during a shootout involving Ki’s biological father and they were both recuperating, which meant they spent a lot of time at home. Our home. Prescot basically lived with us. I didn’t mind though. He was clean and very respectful of our space. And he kept Ki in check; he made sure she took her medication, and he went with her to physical therapy. Ki had surgery, Prescot didn’t, but before that gunshot wound, he’d been in a car accident so he still needed to heal from that as well. His legs were still weak, so the use of a cane was needed. He hated it, it was easy to see but Ki insisted, and the man of few words never argued with her.
We went our separate ways after the movie, which wasn’t as good as the horror one we watched the other day. I did my normal routine of shaving my legs, brushing my teeth, and then combed my hair for ten minutes. I’m not conceited, but my looks are all I’ve got. It’s the only thing I had growing up. Me. Myself. And I. I took care of myself. Every time I stole something to eat, I also took a piece of makeup or hair product. It was needed just as much as food. I had to take care of myself in all matters, and my looks meant something to me. It’s all I had.
Yes, I went to college, and I have a degree, but people don’t take me seriously. That was where I envied Ki. She always complained that she blended in, that she swore she was forgettable but what she failed to realize is that she’s her own kind of beautiful. People listened when she talked. She just didn’t see her worth. I know where I stand. People only see me as a pretty face. I have naturally blond hair, just like my mother, and if she wouldn’t have abused her body all those years, we’d pass as twins. Her sunken cheeks and dry, brittle hair reminded me that looks fade. I’m using them the best I could until they started to fade. I have the best job I could ever dream of, so all the beauty regimens and treatments were also a tax write off. Plus, I liked feeling good about myself, and what better way to do that than to get dressed up every day. I was happy with my life. I loved it. I got to flirt and spend most of my time with my best friend Ki. The business was doing good and we were profiting, which was a bonus living in New York City.
After my nightly routine, I slipped on my silk pajamas and crawled into bed.
I had a text from my mom letting me know she wasn’t going to make our lunch date tomorrow, which instantly had my mind going crazy. This was the first time she’s canceled on me.
Immediately I think she’s using again.
Before the memories can break through my walls, I push them down. I honestly didn’t know if I was strong enough to go through this with her again. I just didn’t know if I would be able to walk away from her for good if she was.
My father passed away when I was younger and she did good for the first year. I was ready to be strong for her, ready to get through the grief together. The day after his funeral, she was up early, making me pancakes and talked about having a girls’ day. I thought she was being strong for me, and I went along with it. I thought we would be okay. I blame myself for not seeing the signs sooner. It was like she was in denial because on the one-year anniversary of my father’s death, she lost it. If I ever had any good memories of them, they were gone. I only remember the bad things. All the nights I cooked myself dinner, all the nights I fell asleep alone because she was gone or too high to realize I was even in the room. After all the shit she’s put me through, after all the times I’ve cried wishing for a new mother, she was finally trying. She was putting in the effort and time in her recovery and I had my mother back, kind of. She was a different person now. A recovery addict and someone I had to get to know all over again. The past several weeks had been a great beginning to our new relationship.
I scrolled through my pictures and found the one I took of Tapper and me, the last time I was with him. We had just woken up, and our hair was a mess but we were smiling. We looked like a happy couple that was in love. Shortly after that picture, I left and never went back. He wanted more. I couldn’t give him more. It’s my biggest flaw, and I know it. The minute things get real, I bail. I’ve seen what happens to a heart once it breaks. I can’t let myself turn into my mother. I haven’t spoken to him since that morning until I saw him in the elevator at the hospital. He was in a wheelchair. His face was scarred. He didn’t look like the carefree MMA fighter that I had once known. Since then, I’ve tried to talk to him and he kept telling me he didn’t remember me; that I was just some random fuck. I knew he was lying and he was
such a jerk about it. He wasn’t the same man. Not even close. He refused to let me apologize. He refused to look me in the eye. It pissed me off and as much as I said I’m done, I’m not. I’ll apologize again and this time he’ll accept my apology.
###
I pulled my phone up, looked at the man’s picture on his Facebook page, and compared it to the one who was sitting at the bar with two other guys. I watched him for a few minutes, flirting with any woman that came near him, taking shots. He wasn’t bad looking but I wouldn’t fuck him. They were talking and high-fiving each other as a woman walked by.
Lame.
Totally lame.
Glancing down at my chest, I had just enough cleavage to get the job done. I put my phone in my back pocket and made sure the envelope was tucked nicely in the waist of my jeans.
This was the fun part.
I walked confidently through the bar, and over to the barstool, and slid right between him and his friend. Sure, I could say his name and hand the envelope over, but this was so much fun. I loved this part of my job.
The bartender came, I placed an order and not two seconds later, he was talking.
“Nice . . . top,” he said, though his eyes were focused solely on my chest.
I kept my eyes on the bartender who was making my drink. “Thanks.”
“The next drink is on me.”
Too easy.
I looked at him, smiled as I looked up and down. “You look familiar.”
He ran his free hand through his brown hair. “Really? I’m sure I’d remember you.”
I winked at him. “I’m sure you would also.”
My drink came, I enjoyed a few sips, then leaned into him and whispered in his ear, “I have something for you.”
“Oh yeah,” he said, his hand slowly sliding from my thigh to my waist.
“Go higher.”
He grunted, his hand moved, inching its way past my shirt hem, and he felt the envelope. He slowly pulled it out. “Does it have your room key in it?”